Selestra
I push open the heavy iron doors of the Grand Hall. The room has been emptied.
Gone are the wooden tables that cluttered the center, rich with wine and merciless laughter. The band has been dismissed and the room is drained to a hollow cavity.
To an outsider, it's impossible to tell that just a few hours ago, the wealthiest people in the kingdom celebrated the Festival. I could hear the swells of music from my tower. Smell the brandy cakes and honey drifting in through the cracks of my window.
It still smells now. Cake and candle fire, charred wicks and sweet, smoky air.
I spy the king at the far end of the room on a large black throne carved from bones. A gift from my great great grandmother.
His gaze quickly meets mine, like he can sense me, and he beckons me over with a singer finger.
I take in a breath and head toward him.
The cloak of my dress billows behind me.
It's a hideously sparkling thing that glitters under the candlelight like a river of plucked stars. It's a deep black blue, dark as the Endless Sea, that curls around my neck and drips down my pale skin like water. The back, tied by intricate ribbons, is covered in a long cape that flows to the floor.
It might be Irenya's creation, but it's the king's color.
When I wear it, I'm his trophy.
King Seryth
Good of you to finally join us.
He leans back into his throne.
King Seryth is a warrior as much as a ruler, with long brown hair and earrings of snake fangs. The tattooed serpents of his crest hiss across his face, and he's dressed in animal furs the break apart to reveal the ridged muscles of his chest.
All of it is meant to make him look menacing, but I've always thought his eternally youthful face was far more beautiful than frightening.
The real danger is in his eyes, redder than blood, which hold only death.
King Seryth
You look glorious
I tuck a lock of dark green hair behind my ears.
I've never been allowed to cut it, so like my mother's it hangs well past my waist. Only unlike my mother's it curls up at the ends, where hers is as straight as a cliff edge.
Everything about her is edges and points, designed to wound.
Selestra(Fl)
Good morning, Mother
Theola Somniatis, ever beautiful, sits beside the king on a throne that glitters with painted chrim coins. A black lace gown clings to her body in a mix of swirls and skin.
She looks sharp and foreboding.
A knife the king keeps by his side...
And unlike me, she doesn't need gloves to keep herself in check.
Theola(Fl'smom)
You were nearly late
Selestra(Fl)
I walked as fast as I could in these shoes.
I say, liftings the hems of my dress to show the perilous heals hidden under it's length.
They're already rubbing against my feet
King Seryth
Now you are here we can get started
He raises his hand, a signal to the guards by the door.
King Seryth
Let the first one in
I take an unsteady breath.
I wonder what curses death will show us today.
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