Torrent of Tears (Scourge Survivor Series Book 3)(12)
“Don’t be stupid,” Freya said. “Really. Who raised you?”
My fists clenched, aching to strike. “A great man and fearsome warrior—Maximus Reign.”
Freya looked at me like I was clueless for answering. Obviously, she wouldn’t give two shits about who raised me unless it benefited her somehow.
Master Constable Estes, however, cast me a knowing look and my heart ached. Maybe even in this hidden realm, my father’s name meant something. He was a legend in the Realm of the Fair. A legend. And I just walked away from him and everything he’d ever done for me.
“Finally.” Freya said as our carriage rocked to a stop. She stood and gathered the skirt of her gown. With the Master Constable’s arm at her elbow she stepped out of the boat and under the canopy of the covered dock.
I followed her lead, a little less coordinated because my head was spinning and I was fighting another trip into hurlsville after our water travels, but I think I pulled it off. “Thank you, Master Constable.”
He let go of my arm and smiled. “You are most welcome. And Princess, I am sorry your evening turned out as it did. It was . . . unfortunate . . . what happened.”
Unfortunate. I straightened my skirts and joined Freya at the residence entrance, my mind and body at war. The little girl in me wanted to ball up like a kitten and cry, but the warrior in me wanted blood. I needed to stab someone. Kick someone’s ass. Give me a Scourge raid to attack or a training session with Savage and I could work some of this off.
How could I have lost two fathers in one day?
CHAPTER FIVE
“Forgive me, Princess. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
I focused a sleepy gaze at the servant girl placing a tray on the dresser, a candle lighting her way. Last night I’d dropped like a rock the moment Freya left, but when images of guillotines and disappointed siblings morphed into agonizing wails and screams for justice I woke and couldn’t face dreaming again. “I wasn’t sleeping.”
“I am Elani. Clothes have been provided in your dressing room. If you have need of anything else, it would be my pleasure to serve you.” The little waif bowed, the golden light of her candle illuminating her as she ducked out in the hall without another word. She reminded me a little of Aust’s mom, always skirting the shadows of Jade’s home, invisible as she delivered a tray of food.
I pushed away all thoughts of Haven and sat up, stretching out some of the night’s kinks. Without a window in the suite, there was no way to gauge the time. The only thing I knew was that I couldn’t lie around any longer. The glorious Golden Haze had worn off, my back was aching, my nerves were thrumming, and my head was spinning. If I didn’t get moving, I might actually peel my skin off my bones.
I would meet my mother today. My mother the queen.
My stomach knotted, the muscles still sore from last night. I revisited Freya’s disgust as I puked on the Queen’s royal hardwood and laughed to myself. I think she got more than she had bargained for yesterday.
Poor Princess Love.
Princess. I sighed. I’d always loved it when Reign called me Princess. It made me feel special. Choosing it as my nom de guerre when I became Talon had been natural too. At Haven and with all my friends, I was Princess. Somehow yesterday that changed. Being called Princess here was almost a slap to the face. From the looks of the people in the city crowd, I had a feeling the last thing I wanted was to be one of their Princesses.
As my feet hit the plush carpet, I leaned over and clicked on a lamp. Maybe Freya was the exception. Maybe the other Princesses were nice, normal girls. They would be my half-sisters not my twin, but that was still good, still a family connection. I scanned the gold-leafed, silk strewn room looking for my bag of clothes. There was no sign of it.
I hadn’t been carrying anything when Freya dragged me out of the townhouse. I bet my stuff was either still there or lost in the courtyard somewhere. Damn. My Jimmy Choo boots were in that bag. Shit. Iadon made me that battle-vest and I’d be damned if someone else would palm my blades.
With new purpose, I walked the mile to my dressing room and opened the double, leaded glass doors. Lavender assaulted both my nostrils and my vision. Wonderful. My life had a theme. Ignoring the invasion on my olfactory glands, I took a lookie-loo in the two dozen drawers built into the wall. Lace, silk, tulle, chenille, more lace . . .
Gods doesn’t anyone workout here?
I grabbed the lavender silk robe from the hanging bar and smiled as I shrugged it on over my black, leopard print underwear. For now, the matching bra was lost with the rest of my clothes. After tying the robe closed I checked to make sure it was long enough to cover the tip of my dagger. Just in case I tugged my thigh sheath up my leg a little higher.
Heading out the door I thought, maybe I should—
A hand gripped my shoulder.
I reacted before I could think. “Oh, shit, sorry.”
Dropping to my knees on the marble tiles, I inspected the kid sprawled outside my door. He wore a brown uniform, different from the soldiers I’d seen yesterday, with a leather sleeveless vest instead of the brass or bronze. Younger than me, probably eighteen or nineteen max, he looked as new as a mint condition nickel. Cute kid, sandy blond with pale sage green skin. He was probably cuter before the split lip.
“Sorry buddy, you scared me. What the hell are you doing sneaking up on people?”