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Her eyes lashes fluttered. “Got it.”
Sirens grew louder. Cars screeched to a stop outside the train station. The sound of doors opening. The pounding of human feet.
Truly drew a deep breath. “Ready?”
“Go.”
Blue shimmer hit her eyes.
A magical doorway opened behind her.
With a smile, Westvane kicked the snake head out of the way and grabbed the Wendigo. Truly stepped through the portal and vanished into theEcotone. Dragging the beast behind him, Westvane crossed the threshold, disappearing from view as damaged steel doors rattled and human authorities poured into the train station.
49
APPEARANCES MUST BE MAINTAINED
Interrupted by the knock on her door, Lyonesse twisted the lid back onto her favorite lip stain. Settling her wings, she shifted on the stool, then twisted to set the small pot on her make-up table, making the guard who stood outside wait. No need to rush. Zero inclination to soothe his nerves or make him comfortable.
Not after the debacle on the cliff.
The servant attending her picked up a container of blush, tilting the blend into the light for her consideration. With a flick of her fingers, she waved the girl away. New servants always annoyed her. The tips of her fake eyelashes fluttered, impeding her peripheral vision, as Lyonesse glanced at her from the corner of her eye. What was her name again? The girl had told her already but…
Her eyes narrowed.
The girl flinched.
Ah, yes — Korah. A dull name for an uninteresting girl.
Why Priestly believed she needed a new slave, Lyonesse had yet to determine. Everything about the Cropper bothered her — the lush sheen in her dark hair, her youth, her height and luscious stature. Each and every one of Korah’s clumsy attempts to please her.
Inspecting the girl, Lyonesse wondered at her Priestly’s generosity, then let the thought go. He’d fallen out of favor. Stood to reason, the warrior wanted back into her good graces. The Cropper he’d given her simply needed more training, and yet…
Her dislike of the girl grew by the moment.
Unsure of herself, Korah bowed her head, stepped back, and waited. For more instructions. For her queen to decide. Lyonesse rubbed her fingertips across the pads of her thumbs. Magic moved in the mist beneath her skin. She stared at the Cropper beneath the fan of her lashes.
Awkward.
Inept.
Unfit to serve in the palace.
The servant wasn’t worth the fine clothes Lyonesse dressed her in. A singular regret, but sometimes, incompetence must be suffered. Appearances must be maintained. She couldn’t refuse a gift from a royal member of the Electi elite. Tradition dictated she give the girl a chance. Allot an acceptable amount of time. Find better reasons to dismiss her. Otherwise, Priestly would pout, and right now, she didn’t need the criticism… or to hear any rumbling from the High Table.
“Majesty?” Gaze aimed at the floor, a slight tremble in her hands, Korah raised a pot of rouge. “More blush?”
She glanced at the girl. A delightful chill crept down her spine as the urge to eviscerate almost overcame her. She contemplated it a moment. Croppers were thick on the ground. One fewer wouldn’t make a bit of difference. Heat gathered in her palms. She smoothed the magic, remembering she didn’t need the trouble, or the inconvenience of training another servant.
She had enough on her mind.
“Majesty?” Korah whispered, becoming more nervous by the moment.
Lyonesse looked at herself in the oval. Turning her head one way, then the other, she inspected herself in a mirror taken from Earth Realm. A rare commodity in Azlandia. A birthday present from her father, and not a kind one.
“It will do,” she said, motioning for the rouge to be put away, thoughts drifting to her sire.
Leonidas had called her vain, lacking, less than an ideal daughter. His gift of the oval reinforced her suspicions about him — and what he thought of her. Pragmatism forced her to accept the truth long ago. But much as she tried, the accusation still bothered her, worming beneath her skin, straight into her heart. She shouldn’t care what he’d thought of her. Her father could go to the devil.
