Page 23 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

Bree’s gaze slid back to Blake before she pursed her lips, her next attack clearly incoming. “You never did tell me who you were courting, Kora. Was it that filthy barman like I thought? I bet he ran the moment he knew what you are.”

John had fled The Abandoned Barnacle when he’d discovered Kora and her glaring white hair. Just not for the reasons of her abilities. And she didn’t blame him for running. Whether he was still alive, was a mystery. She hoped Blake hadn’t gotten to him as well, like Barron’s personal dog.

Kora’s beaming smile caused Bree to step back, her face pulling into a grimace. “Oh, you already know him. It’s your fiancé.”

10

Kora

Apparently, Bree hadn’t known the depth of Kora’s relationship with Blake, and she almost felt a bit sorry for her as she began screaming and crying at Blake. At how deceitful he was, at the whore Kora supposedly was. Every insult hurtled her way flew over her head as Kora continuously stared at her plate of food, the steam rapidly fading as it cooled.

She had more important things on her mind.

Erick watched the argument unfurl with wide eyes, interspersed with glares that could kill directed at Blake. Kora supposed it was a revelation for him, too. He’d tried so hard to keep them apart, only to find out Blake had burrowed his way into Kora’s heart regardless. Agatha rolled her eyes, taking her time sipping her water as she repeatedly cased the room as if she could see it, her stare pausing occasionally on the gilded entrance doors.

“Brisella Hydrafort!” a deep voice boomed and Kora jolted in her chair.

Bree’s incessant whining ceased, as Otto and Rashi Hydrafort waltzed into the room. Long, thick locks hung around his squared face, whilst Rashi’s curls were swept up from her slender, permanently pinched features, smattered with dark freckles. Distastefully dressed in matching blue and gold attire to Bree, their clothes billowed around their lithe bodies.

The ever-perfect family.

“Brisella?” Kora perked up, throwing a smirk towards Bree. She hadn’t heard this nickname once when she’d visited Bree’s estate all those years ago after the ballroom incident. In fairness, Kora had avoided Otto and Rashi as much as possible, their anger at her had been palpable for accidentally breaking their daughter’s arm.

“We’re so sorry about this,” Rashi murmured to Barron. “She’s hard to tame.”

Bree stuttered, her jaw dropping.

“Brisella, what is the meaning of your screeching? Nobles do not act this way, we are refined, we are poised. We can hear your little tantrum across the castle,” Otto reprimanded.

“Stand up straight, we do not slouch,” Rashi added.

“We have a reputation to uphold,” Otto continued. “You do not scream at our king, or his heir.”

This was all familiar. The Hydrafort Estate had been run like a prison. Even when Bree’s arm had been in a cast, she’d been expected to attend her finishing lessons, ensuring she became a proper lady for her re-entry into society.

Kora had laughed through every dance lesson Bree had partaken in with one unbroken arm. The memory soured in Kora’s mind as she stared at the same female, her blue eyes hungry for power. Her smile too stretched, her long nails digging a trench into Blake’s arm, and pure venom directed at Kora.

“King?” Erick mouthed to Kora and she shook her head. That explained the ghastly crown weaving through Barron’s hair. It was simultaneously fascinating and scary to watch the exchange. Since when had Barron established himself as a king? Did that mean Blake was a prince now?

“Apologies, Your Majesty.” Rashi dipped her head to Barron. “We value our union with you deeply. We hope Brisella hasn’t done anything to tarnish it.”

Barron waved a hand and the Hydraforts silenced, their attention raptly glued to his every movement. “Not at all. Please, do sit and join us. We were just about to get Kora to eat, weren’t we?”

The royal nobles slid into the empty seats, with Bree insisting Blake shuffled his chair closer to hers, a smug smile on her face as though it were a victory. Kora rolled her eyes. Only one empty seat remained, between Agatha and Barron.

“She looks awfully thin,” Rashi observed beside Kora. “You best eat something.”

“Yes,” Otto nodded, sat at the opposite head of the table to Barron. “Nourishment is good for the soul.”

Nausea filled Kora’s empty stomach, followed by bile reaching up and closing in on her throat. Five sets of noble eyes keenly watched her, waiting for her to take a bite of food. It smelled delicious, but the pressure forced her stubbornness to take over and she sat back, glaring at Barron.

Gods damn him.

“However, you could do with a diet.” Rashi’s dark eyes flickered to Bree, who shrank in her seat under her mother’s oppressive gaze. She had filled out over the past month, looking more like a voluptuous goddess rather than whatever Rashi saw her as. Bree inherited her bright blue eyes from Otto, but everything else was all Rashi. Kora bit her lip, holding back her remarks as Blake tentatively placed a hand on Bree’s, his smile grim.

Kora’s heart stuttered. The betrayal burrowed its way in like a toxic worm, spreading cold poison until she snapped her gaze away, her sorrow seeping over the boundary into red hot anger.

“It’s a shame to see you here,” Otto remarked, raising his goblet of wine to Erick. “You held such promise under Barron’s mentorship.”