Days passed, the dreaded ball approaching too swiftly, too sneakily.

In the meantime, I attended insufferable meetings with emissaries from all over the continent. We discussed the dire state of things, the rogue sister and mage and knave. And peppered in between gatherings were visits to nobles in town, to enlist their monetary assistance and recruit men and women for our army.

I spent hours in the library, reading up on tactics and magic, and all the ceremonial things leading up to my coronation. Such pomp and circumstance weren't necessary, but it was too late to halt the preparations.

And my sisters would kill me if I did.

Said sisters were quite busy as well, but I often had to watch them. Tilda tended to disappear for hours on end supposedly sewing and crafting garments. I later discovered she was regularly having private parties in lesser-used rooms of the castle. Parties where she did more than drinking and dining, and I didn't pry into them much further, preferring to preserve my sanity.

As for Astrida...I didn't know what to do with her anymore. Her constant scrutiny of Teodric and Ysac's relationship, and her relentless pursuit of the former, were exhausting to keep track of. Tilda warned me that her obsession only grew worse with time, and I knew I'd need to interfere soon, and seriously.

It was all fun and games at first. It was entertaining to spy on all her attempts to woo Teodric, and to see him running about the castle doing everything he could to hide from her.

But if I didn't step in soon, things might get out of hand. Astrida was a handful, but she was resourceful and smart, more so than most assumed. I wouldn't put it past her to start employing less than appropriate means to get what she wanted.

Most mornings I woke wondering if it was all a dream. My new life as a monarch, my new quarters, the authority I was expected to wield. I wondered if the betrayal and death and secrets were only part of my nightmares. If the words echoing in my head were of my own making.

But this morning was different. I stretched, sighting Father's refurbished gold and garnet dresser, where my clothes had been neatly folded. The newly installed silky white curtains around my bed, keeping me refreshed and isolated, like I loved. The giant white-wood desk to my far-left, covered in parchments requiring my signature. And beside the dresser, the walk-in closet filled with satins and suedes and other materials from around the continent.

The weight of my responsibilities waited for me every morning, but today, that weight was harsher, more painful. More distinguishable.

I spotted the mannequin to the right with the dress—the one Tilda crafted for me, for the ball.

Today was the day I had to wear it.

Weeks of praying the excitement would blow over, that the advisors would change their minds, and there we were. A day I'd prayed to forget, but it snuck up on me, nonetheless.

I stood before the mannequin, sneering at the black lace edges. Leering at the navy bodice and matching petticoat, the piles of onyx jewels lining the décolleté and threatening to tug it down so much half my chest would be visible.

But the more I stared, the more I decided it wasn't that bad. It was off-the-shoulder—which Tilda assured me was a bold fashion choice and would start a trend. It was wide at the bottom and tight in the middle. It was long, lavish...kind of lovely.

I'd tried it on for her, in case she'd need to make final adjustments; and I had to admit, it made me look like a queen. Even if I didn't feel like one.

Later, as I ate breakfast, Tilda was at my side yapping about hairstyles. I listened, acknowledged her; but my heart wasn't in it. I wasn't in it.

Astrida joined us, sipping on strong coffee while polishing her favorite diamonds—that she refused to let any of my staff touch. I kept a close eye on her, unsure what her state of mind was, and how much closer she was to subduing Teodric with nefarious means.

I wasn't hungry, no matter the chunks of delicious clubs mixed in with my eggs, and the bowl of chopped harts dipped in sweet cream. My stomach was heavy, as if fifty tons of rocks drowned in its depths.

The sensation worsened as I strolled through the gardens with Teodric as my companion, Ysac bringing up the rear as my personal guard. I'd needed the air, and both men opted to accompany me.

We enjoyed the shade of the willows and elms that lined the side of the castle, conversing politely, discussing gardening and other passions.

And as I turned around, facing the castle, I saw them and froze.

The pile of vehicles charging through our gates, settling in our courtyard. The arrivals. The honored guests come to witness my coronation.

Honored?

I snarled. They were traitors, all of them. Folk who weren't there for Father and wouldn't be there for me. They'd left us to fend for ourselves during the rebellions. Locked up their cities, kept their armies to themselves...and now they traveled here, for me?

I'd forgotten this aspect of my coronation: that there'd be constituents from around the continent coming to marvel at their new queen. But would they marvel?

Or would they speculate, plot behind my back?

It was a ruse, a facade. I didn't trust a single one of them—not even my flesh and blood uncle—and regretted accepting to take this throne, to have to see them all again. Dealing with them would be miserable. It would make me miserable.

They were the noble-born, the high-placed lords, the wealthy merchants that the Aces invited to stay at court for the night. Others would take up inns in town, but these guests would take up temporary residence at the castle.

I nearly choked on air as I saw their flashy flags screaming of their heaps of money. Their colossal crests I had no trouble discerning from afar, their elaborate carriages meant to intimidate, impress, inundate with awe.

I recognized a few banners from the Club Fields area—including my uncle, Mother's brother—and on instinct I recoiled.

Teodric, whose arm was linked with mine, tipped forward to look me over. "Majesty? Is everything all right?"

I groaned. "No, nothing is all right."

Ysac hastened over to my other side, his ebony and scarlet armor glinting in the sunlight. "Majesty? What is it?"

I stopped walking and ripped out of Teodric's grip. "What is it?" I was frantic, my blood boiling. It wasn't hot outside, but I was overheating. "It's that!" I waved at the fanfare up ahead, gathering in the driveway.

Ysac glanced in the direction I'd pointed, then hissed as he returned to me. "Right. For tonight."

Teodric kept squinting, as if trying to decipher all the sigils he'd know nothing about. "Those are the guests?"

"Some of them," said Ysac, peering at me as if I were a fragile vase about to explode. "The most distinguished ones, at least."

I swirled around to march in the opposite direction. "The excess, the frills, the ridiculousness of it all. I hate it. I hate them, too, with their bags of coins and their complaints and their nitpicking. Their reservations, the way they treated Father..." One breath in, one breath out. "I'm not him, but they'll abuse my reign, I know it."

"Majesty?" Teodric caught up to me and his warm hand took mine. "No one is here to abuse you. They're your constituents, your people, your most loyal—"

"Are they loyal?" I wanted to scream, to rip my hair out of its chignon, to race to the stables and climb onto a horse and leave. "Many of them passively participated in the rebellion, I know it. Father knew it. They knew that we knew. But they're here, to...what? Declare their allegiance? Lay their swords at my feet as a pretty crown glitters atop my head?" A tickling tear teetered at my lash-line, waiting to unleash and show my weakness. "I should have never accepted this. Astrida is better built for all this nonsense. I'm too honest. I can't hold my tongue and pretend like I don't see through them and their fallacies."

"Majesty." Ysac slipped in front of me before I could storm off to the orchards. "Gwenore. You're the perfect choice for this. A natural-born leader. Astrida?" He huffed. "She'd have no clue how to manage these people."

Teodric nodded fervently. "I don't think Tilda would have the patience, either."

"And your thirst for revenge, your lack of a filter, they make you a true queen. That's what Acewood needs. What Efura needs." Ysac's amethyst eyes took me by surprise as he grabbed my shoulders and drew his face close to mine. He smelled of lime and lilies.

"They weren't friends to Father." I gulped. "If anything, they betrayed him by not interfering, not offering a hand when he needed it. They betrayed him by not playing a real part."

"Because your father had his secrets, and they didn't trust him." Ysac winced. "I'm sorry, but it's true. Hendry's antics distanced him from the rest of the world. But I believe we're ready for a ruler who doesn't keep things from us and who won't hesitate to point out those she dislikes and distrusts. You are that ruler." He gestured at the crowd forming in the courtyard. "They're here for you."

"But..." My lower lip wanted to puff out, but I wasn't a child anymore. Nor was I prone to throwing tantrums like Astrida and Tilda. I was the queen, and even in the farthest parts of the garden, everyone was watching. "Must we host them here? Must we allow them to parade about in their disguises and lie to me? Because they will lie, they always do—"

"Everyone lies, Majesty." Ysac didn't release my shoulders. "Including me, remember? And I'm paying for it, though I'm enjoying every second of it." He smirked. "I probably shouldn't have mentioned that." He squeezed me, his touch taming the torment traveling up my arms in the form of shivers. "Put on a show for them, and they'll admit to their lies in due time. And in any case, they don't matter."

Teodric's soft features appeared in my field of vision. His cream-colored coat was so demure compared to everyone else's attire at court. "The culprits after your crown are the end-goal. This event is one step towards catching them. The coronation officializes your power, reminds them all who's in charge." He sounded so confident. So wise. "It's one night. Indulge your people, get it over with. Then you can focus on the real objectives."

He spoke with such sense that I almost crumbled into his arms. "One night?"

"One night," he repeated, then he side-glanced at Ysac, raised his eyebrows, and returned to me. "And I'm happy to be your escort, if you'd like. As I told you, I'm used to these affairs. I can guide you through the formalities and learn about Efuran customs at the same time."

I flinched; sweet as the gesture was, it wouldn't be proper for an inter-dimensional prince to sit with me at my coronation. "I appreciate that, but no. I want you close-by, but not beside me. That other throne needs to be empty, for now."

"Oh, it won't be for long," he said as he nudged Ysac, who giggled.

"If you're plotting to find me a husband, don't." I narrowed my gaze at them. "But since Ysac is my cupbearer and personal guard, you're without an escort, Teodric. And so are my sisters."

His amusement abated as he tiptoed backwards, shrinking like a withering flower. "Oh...no...please, I can't, not with—"

I grasped his forearm before he could skid off to hide behind a statue. "Not Astrida, right? Is that what you were about to say?" All manners of fear fluttered in his chestnut eyes. I loosened my grip and pressed a hand to his heated cheek. "Fret not, friend. I will not make you attend with her. Tilda has been so busy with preparations that she hasn't found someone to go with her, and I'm sure she'd love your company."

He blew out a breath of relief so strong it practically knocked me backwards. "Thank you, Majesty."

"Yes, thank you," added Ysac, though his voice still sang in delight, entertained that my sister wanted to devour Teodric whole like a puff pastry. "He needs protection from her."

As he chuckled, Teodric glowered at him and punched his upper arm, pushing him sideways. "Rude!"

Ysac cackled. "What? It's true! I spotted her spying on you the other day, and she had a pouch that looked suspiciously like those Otho used to dish out to those seeking love potions—"

"Love potions?" Teodric let out a squeak of surprise.

Funny as this exchange was, I tightened my fists at my sides. This was why I'd wanted to watch Astrida. Love potions were exactly the type of bad behavior I'd expected from her.

"Oh goodness, someone save me!" Teodric squirmed out of my reach and ran down the path leading to the castle.

I cupped a hand around my mouth and cried after his shrinking figure. "Steer clear of the champagne fountains at the ball! She lurks near those!" It came out as a joke, though I'd meant it as a real warning.

He needed to watch his back.

Ysac let out boisterous bursts of laughter, and I wondered how else Astrida would try to trick Teodric into falling for her. That, at least, kept my mind off the night's events to come.

♥♦♣♠