Around me, I realized I could hear more than I should have of conversations that were probably meant to be veiled by foreign tongues. One woman was telling her companion, not as quietly as she should have, about a particularly nasty ulcer she’d developed. When I heard the location of the sore—which was in a place I’d probably not reveal to Brooklynn in private, let alone in a roomful of strangers—I couldn’t help glancing her way.
“She’s lovely . . .” I heard a woman say.
“Unsophisticated,” alleged another.
These were words that should have been hidden by language.
I did my best to ignore the things I wasn’t meant to hear, to afford others the privacy they sought, but Sabara’s name was bandied about more often than I cared to acknowledge.
I turned my gaze back to Filis, who was still holding my hand. “I—I—”
“Let her go,” Neva protested.
The empress pouted, but her eyes sparkled playfully. “Can you fault me, really? She’s incredibly . . .” She grinned a wicked grin. “She’s just plain incredible,” she finished at last.
Slowly, understanding infiltrated my awareness as I took a longer moment to study the empress, realizing what it was that I’d missed. Her masculine attire, her flirtatious greeting, the pretty girls who followed her around. I smiled back at her. Under Sabara’s rule, those who didn’t conform had been forced into hiding, and could only express their preferences in the underground clubs. If caught, they were sent to the Scablands . . . or worse.
I was a different sort of queen. “Thank you, Your Majesty. You’re quite”—I raised my brows—“incredible yourself.”
Her mouth fell open as her eyes widened in disbelief. My heart stammered and I wondered if I’d misjudged the situation, if I’d just made some grievous blunder. This was a serious matter. I had no business making jokes or light banter in a place like this. Not when I still didn’t understand the rules.
A halo of silence enveloped us, ringing painfully in my ears, as it seemed that everyone around us had been listening to our conversation, waiting to see how the new queen reacted to the empress. Maybe she’d been a test of my tolerance.
Maybe I was simply a fool.
I searched the room, looking for Brooklynn and Aron, and instead I found Zafir. I beseeched him with my eyes to save me, but like before, when I’d met Neva, he remained stone-faced.
And then she let out a howl of laughter, Empress Filis, as she reached for me, draping her arm around my neck. “You’re going to fit in just fine,” she said exuberantly. “Come on, let’s see if you’re ready for Hestia.”
I wasn’t, as it turned out, ready for Hestia. Or “Queen Hestia,” as would have been proper, if she hadn’t been so . . . so odd.
Queen Hestia, as Xander had warned me, preferred not to be addressed by her title, but rather by her country’s name. And in turn, she addressed the other royals by their queendoms.
“Lochland,” Empress Filis managed to keep her jovial voice dry as she greeted the other queen who carried a small dog in her arms. I remembered, too, what Xander had told me about the Hestia’s affinity toward dogs.
“Imperial Brasil,” Hestia beamed. “Lovely to see you again! And you,” she said, handing the dog to a harried-looking woman who stood at her side. The dog growled at being passed off, and the woman holding him winced, pulling her chin away from it, as if she actually feared the animal might try to bite her. “You must be Ludania!” She reached for my hands and stood back, appraising me. “Oh my, yes, you are as exquisite as I’ve heard. Just look at that skin. . . . It positively glows!”
I swallowed a lump, wishing I’d listened to Brook and had tried powdering my cheeks. Not that I expected to keep something so conspicuous a secret, exactly—that would be near impossible—but I preferred to draw as little attention as possible.
Except that now everyone seemed to be looking my way.
I tried to smile, but my lips felt stiff. I was worried that I might be sneering instead.
To my right, the crowd parted with a rush of low murmurs, and a woman with soft brown hair and warm eyes appeared. “Astonia,” Hestia said, releasing my hands. “Have you met Ludania? Ludania, this is Astonia.”
Astonia bordered my country to the east, so I knew who she was immediately: Queen Elena. Like mine—or rather like the borrowed gown I wore—her dress was plain in comparison with some of the other royals in attendance.
Elena stepped forward, a small smile tugging at her pink lips. “It’s more than a pleasure, Queen Charlaina.” She hesitated, as if she was as unsure how to greet me as I was to greet her. And then she hugged me. “I’m so glad you decided to attend,” she whispered in my ear.
I smiled as some of my doubts lifted. “Xander said you might be here,” I said loud enough for the others to hear. Xander had told me what she’d done for the resistance, in an effort to help him fight his grandmother. But despite the loyalty she’d shown to Xander, there was still a part of me that bristled at her betrayal of another queen. I dropped my voice as I kissed her cheek. “But cross my borders without permission again, and you and I will have a serious problem.”
She didn’t so much as flinch from my quiet warning. Instead she drew back, a smile still pasted on her lips. Aware that the others were watching us, she addressed only my original comment. “It was the least I could do.” Her voice was earnest as she reached out to squeeze my hands in both of hers. “I count Xander among my dearest of friends. I can only hope to add you to that list as well.”