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Thirty-Seven
Shaye
Tonight, the first of two grand balls thrown in honor of Levanora, is less than an hour away and I feel like I'm back in my element. I am new to politics, magic and dragons, but glittering gowns, superficial conversations and dancing are my specialties.
With Eris' help, I slip into the curve-hugging, off-the-shoulder navy gown that was custom made for my debut as an Elowen royal. The long sleeves are perfect for the chilly evening, and the silver and gold beads and sequins sparkle in the light, giving me the feel of being clothed with the starry, night sky.
"The lost princess has finally come home." The wrinkled seamstress had said whilst measuring me last week. And even though I know that's who I am, I still don't feel comfortable basking in their unearned adoration.
Once my hair is braided and pinned in an intricate updo and my make-up is finished, a fully dressed Eris leaves to meet Finn for another dose of disimulo. According to Ronan, representatives from Hydra will be in attendance tonight and the last thing any of us need is for Eris' true identity to be revealed and spark a House war.
I take one last moment to admire myself in the mirror. Memories of standing in my room in Midori with my parents flash in my mind. I was so blissfully unaware of all the lies, secrets and upcoming betrayals. It feels like I was an entirely different person months ago. Probably, because I was. The truth is, I wasn't remotely safe, and it took a life-threatening trek through the Bavan jungle to prove just how blind I was.
A firm and self-assured knock on my door rattles the memories of a simpler life free from my thoughts and spurs me to answer it. I whip it open, expecting to see one of my friends or my mother, who is supposed to escort me to the ballroom, but my breathing is labored when I'm standing toe-to-toe with the Frost King. I quickly take in his great height and swallow. We haven't seen one another since I arrived in Elowen. I've heard stories about him from my friends and even snippets from my mother and cousin, but for some inexplicable reason, my grandfather sets the hair on my arms to stand straight in warning.
"Your Highness," I manage to find my voice, and curtsey. "Forgive my surprise, I was not expecting you."
"I heard you were reunited with your dragon." He ignores my greeting.
"I have." I bob my head, putting my courtly mask back in place. "It took some time, but I think Seraxes and I are growing quite fond of one another."
"That's good to hear." He brushes past me, inviting himself inside my quarters, and glances around my room, as if he is looking to see if anyone else is in here. Only when he is satisfied with the knowledge that we are alone, does he turn to face me.
Unease of being trapped alone in here with him propels me to keep my door propped open.
"I am sure Sylvane is proud of your progress." Armas clasps his hands behind his back and even though he smiles, the disgust in his gaze is hard to miss.
I square my shoulders to his and nod. "She seems to be."
"You know" – he chuckles and it's anything but friendly – "you're the first pelcruor to ride a dragon."
"Pelcruor?" I furrow my brow and take a bold step forward.
"It means, half-blood."
"Actually, it means inferior blood," I fire back, in spite of the unwelcome chill slipping down my spine. If I catch him off guard with my knowledge, he doesn't give me any signs of it.
He shrugs. "To me, it is the same."
"I am a Basilius – "
"You are only half."
"Forgive me, Your Majesty" – I can't help my nose from crinkling – "but it sounds as if you disapprove of me."
"House Basilius prides itself on our ancient and powerful bloodline." He paces around my room, as if the horrendously prejudicial things he spews aren't offensive. "Since you aren't a full-blooded Frost Elf, other steps will need to be taken to solidify you as one of us."
"I completed my course with Seraxes and I am eligible for my Orhelle tattoos." I don't know why I feel the need to defend myself, but I continue, "And furthermore, I am the lost princess. The people will – "
"Our people will not accept you unless you swear fealty to House Basilius and take a Frost Elf as your mate."
"What?"
"You are slated to be officially welcomed back to Elowen and by tomorrow evening, you will need to publicly declare your allegiance and choose your husband. If you would rather I choose your betrothed, I would be happy to oblige." He smiles again, but it appears more like a menacing snarl. "Consider me choosing your husband my gift in welcoming you home, Aurelia."
"You expect me to choose a husband – "
"If you wish to rejoin House Basilius, you will agree to my terms."
