Queen of Myth and Monsters (Adrian X Isolde, #2)(52)

“Will you come with us to Cel Ceredi, my queen?” Violeta asked.

I hesitated, recalling Adrian’s warning about staying within the castle walls.

“It is almost nightfall,” Killian said, looking uncertain.

“Then we should hurry,” said Violeta, undeterred. “Before the ghosts come out!”

“There are far more monstrous creatures to worry about, Violeta,” I said, and her cheeks reddened at my mild reprimand. “Killian is right. We can go, but we must return to the castle before full dark.”

With the lanterns gathered, we descended into Cel Ceredi.

Killian and I walked together while Violeta and Vesna moved ahead of us, arm in arm. Now and then, a burst of laughter bubbled from the lips of one or the other.

“Any word from Gavriel on Lara?” Killian asked.

“None,” I said. “Adrian does not seem to be concerned.”

The snow crunched beneath our feet as we walked a few more paces in silence.

“But are you concerned?” he asked.

I considered his question. “I fear I will never be able to return to Lara as their queen.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that by the time I arrive, they will have turned against me,” I explained. “And I will have to be their conqueror.”

Killian said nothing, which I knew meant he agreed. There were so many factors that played into my return to Lara—my marriage, the death of my father, even the rumors of Asha’s salvation. It was a prime environment for rebellion.

“Perhaps I should return—” Killian began.

“No,” I said. I had hated it when Adrian had suggested it and I hated it now. “When we return, we return together.”

We said nothing more on the subject as we entered Cel Ceredi proper. Though dusk was settling on the town in a crimson wave, several villagers were out and about, many milling around outside the tavern, drinking from leather tankards or wooden goblets. Their conversation was lively, and I assumed they had gathered to celebrate the eve of winter.

Violeta and Vesna worked their way through the crowd, passing out lanterns and exclaiming, “Happy Winter’s Eve!”

I watched from a distance as the two women brought smiles to several worn faces, but I was anxious seeing so many outdoors, and I found myself studying the long shadows cast by the growing dark, wondering what would prey upon us next. I thought I may have found it when my gaze shifted to a hooded man sitting among the villagers, arms crossed over his chest, and while his eyes were hidden in the shadow of his cloak, I was familiar with his cold gaze.

Solaris.

“What is he doing here?” Killian asked, suspicious.

“Commiserating?” I suggested, my voice dripping with sarcasm, though I was not completely joking. I had no doubt this man had come here to gain admiration, and when he had not managed to obtain Adrian’s, he sought it from our people.

He had yet to look away from me, and I wondered if he hoped to intimidate me.

“Oh, and our queen made these!” Violeta exclaimed.

A hush settled on the crowd following her announcement, and I could not discern if it was hateful, but I did not waver as I stood before them, waiting to find out, almost afraid. I had sacrificed some part of myself to fight for them against the aufhockers, just as I had done for my people when I married Adrian, and yet no one cared.

But then those who were seated stood and bowed—even Solaris.

“Rise, please,” I said, not wishing for them to kneel so long in the snow.

“My queen,” said a man as he got to his feet. “I saw you run to us when the aufhockers attacked. I saw you fight. We are all indebted to you.”

“It is my obligation,” I said. “Not yours.”

“Nevertheless, we are grateful,” said another.

“A happy Winter’s Eve, indeed,” said another. “Vesna, sing for us!”

“Yes, sing!” others chanted, and over the noise, Killian leaned toward me.

“It is dark. We should return to the castle.”

I had not noticed because Cel Ceredi was so well lit with firelight.

“I would like to hear Vesna sing before we go,” I said.

Adrian’s warning echoed in my mind, but we would not be out far past dark. Killian did not argue and offered his arm. I took it as we walked closer to the crowd.

“Please, sit, my queen!” A villager hopped up from his chair. Gratefully, I took it, though I was very much aware I was now seated across from Solaris, who nodded at me.

“Your Majesty,” he said.

“Witch-hunter,” I replied.

I did not like giving him my back. I did not trust that, even in a crowd, he was safe. Yet I did not wish for him to know how uncomfortable he made me, and I very much wanted to watch Vesna as she sang.

“Enjoying your evening, Master Solaris?” Killian asked.

Silently, I thanked him. It was his way of telling me he was watching.

Vesna began to sing, her voice pure and icy, quieting the crowd. I closed my eyes and listened, letting her words caress my skin, coaxing chills, making me shiver deep in my bones. As she reached the climax of her song, I heard the unmistakable sound of galloping hooves.

I opened my eyes and stood, moving to the edge of the crowd. Vesna had ceased to sing, and the villagers were distracted as Adrian came into view atop Shadow, slowing to a trot and then halting altogether.