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We had a quick breakfast in my quarters, brought in by the kitchen staff, and then the two of them dressed me in the fine gown. Rue tied the laces at the back of the dress, while Amity brushed my hair into a plait resting over one shoulder. When she was done, she pulled another lacquer box from the drawers of the vanity and opened it. Inside was a plain, delicate crown, a simple band of gold like the one the king wore for most everyday ceremonies. She set it on my head with the same care and attention she did when she’d dressed me in the tiara that represented Daybreak during the Choice. But this crown, despite its simplicity, felt so much heavier.
“Gorgeous,” she said with a smile.
“Thank you,” I said. I didn’t feel gorgeous. I felt tired.
Amity led me to the door. “We had best go send off the guests before the hour gets any later.”
Outside, it was an icy cold day, with the sun high in the sky reflecting off the snow coating the gardens. Activity bustled outside the main gates to the manor as servants loaded carriages with trunks and gifts and picnic baskets of food. Fina and Adora were busy packing up carriages as well, sending some of their escort parties back with news of their new roles in Efra.
The king was busy in conversation with one of the Dukes of Duskmoon, laughing loudly as he clapped his hand on the duke’s shoulder. For a man who hadn’t slept in his own bed last night, he looked surprisingly well-rested. His gaze shifted toward mine and I quickly looked away. Maybe it was childish, but I didn’t want to play the role of dutiful queen every moment, if I could avoid it—especially not in a situation like this.
My father’s carriage was in the midst of being packed as well, with Barion’s carriage—the one I’d ridden to Efra in—behind it. The horses stomped their hooves and tossed their heads, breath coming in puffs of steam with their eagerness to begin the journey.
“Wait here,” I said to Amity and Rue. “I’d like to speak with them privately.”
“Of course,” Amity said. They shifted into their wolf forms and lingered by the front door.
I strode toward the carriage with my head held high. The crown still felt heavy across my forehead.
“My lord,” I said in greeting.
My father looked up from where he was checking the trunks fastened to the back of the carriage. His expression soured. He stood up straight and smoothed his hands down the front of his travel wear, heavy canvas clothes and a long coat embroidered with the colors of Daybreak.
“Reyna.” His gaze lingered on the crown. “I trust you enjoyed your wedding.”
“It was lovely,” I said coolly. “I trust you enjoyed yourself as well.”
“Of course.”
The silence hung heavy between us as the other guests packed, laughed, and embraced each other during their goodbyes.
“I’ve come to wish you well on your journey,” I said. “The king will be sending a few pages in the next few days to gather the rest of my belongings.”
“You needn’t worry about your belongings,” he hissed. “It would serve you better to focus on your mission rather than your tchotchkes in Daybreak.”
I folded my hands together in front of my body to keep myself from squeezing my hands into fists. I wanted to scream and curse him. I wanted to beat at his chest like an angry toddler. My wolf growled internally, tossing her head in frustration. It took all my self-control to keep her from flashing in my eyes—flashing the silver of Starcrest instead of the clay-red of Daybreak. I wanted to tell him how deeply he’d wounded me with his lies and betrayal.
But what good would it do? He’d never cared about me, never loved me, not even as a child. It would only please him to know he hurt me. The only real revenge I could have over him was to forget about him entirely. I would never let him control any decision I made in my life. I would never sacrifice myself for the whims of Daybreak.
“Those tchotchkes will be moved to Efra,” I said. “So please be prepared for the pages’ arrival.”
My father narrowed his eyes. From my gown, and the gold crown on my head, and the cold tone of my voice, he knew I would not be using the poisoned knife he’d given me. And there was not a damn thing he could do about it.
“Your Majesty!” Barion hopped down from where he had been fastening boxes to the top of his carriage. “You’ve come to see us off?”
“Yes,” I said. “And to thank you for your service as my escort.”
Barion’s expression softened. He stood at the king’s side in his own fine travel wear of all-functional heavy canvas and leather. It made him look like the man I’d spent so many childhood days with as we traded blows on the manor lawn, while he laughed and corrected my form. My heart ached. It was a different hurt than the pain my father had caused me.
Part of me wanted Barion to stay in Efra with me, and to join the Nightfall wolves as part of my guard. But he’d been the one to initially give me the poisoned knife. He’d known about my father’s plot. Barion cared, but he was a wolf of Daybreak through and through, and he’d always choose his pack over me.
There was nothing I could say to change it—nothing I wanted to say. We both knew our paths had diverged. I could never trust him the way I had in the past.
“It’s been an honor, Lady Reyna,” Barion said.
My father sucked his teeth, then turned wordlessly and climbed into the carriage. Barion lingered for a moment, gazing at me. Then he nodded and walked toward his own wagon.
With my heart in my throat, I strode back into the manor. Before the doors closed, the horses’ whinnying filtered in, and the familiar strike of hooves on the road as they began to move.
