Black Crown (Darkest Drae, #3)(60)
I tore my attention away from the Azulis and focused on my mate, whose attention was fixed on . . . Dyter’s head. Why are you staring at Dyter’s head?
If you don’t mind, I’d rather stare at his head.
Tyrrik was barely maintaining control over his simmering emotion. I shrugged, trying to make him relax. I glanced at Tiago who was also staring at Dyter’s head. Poor Dyter. I hoped they didn’t burn a hole through his cranium.
We followed our party through an arched doorway beyond which was a large room, easily the size of Irdelron’s throne room, maybe even bigger. The din of raucous laughter, the clink of glass, and multiple conversations reminded me of the banquet in Kanahele o keola, not a link I wanted to make here, considering how both feasts ended.
Dyter and the rest of our group were stopped just inside the room, forcing Tyrrik, Tiago, and me to stand in the middle of the arch, invisible under the veil but still blocking the entrance. Were Tyrrik and Dyter having the same trepidation? My heart beat wildly.
“Dyter of Verald and Zarad of Gemond,” a tattooed and sheer-robed man bellowed. “The party seeks a Royal audience, Your Majesty. A matter of urgency.”
I watched his butt jiggle, unable to look away for some morbid, better left alone reason. Apparently the richer the Azuli, the more naked the Azuli.
23
The crowd hushed, and Dyter stepped forward, the rest of our party following. By the time Tyrrik, Tiago, and I stepped farther into the room, the noise of the melee had returned to its previous volume.
Mistress Moons. I blinked, stunned at the scene before me. The chandeliers were the size of Tyrrik in his Drae form, a large golden orb made of loops and swirls of the precious metal with crystals. Drak, I hoped they weren’t real gems because there was no way I’d be able to resist rolling one of those orbs right out the palace doors. The shiny spheres dangled in a way that refracted the light into vibrant rainbows all over the room. I narrowed my eyes, sharpening my gaze to see inside the orb and—squeezed my eyes shut with a gasp.
There’s no way that’s happening up there, I thought at Tyrrik, blushing furiously.
What—Oh. Ohhh?
His mental voice sounded strangled and slightly interested, which was plenty confirmation that people were, in fact, dancing the maypole inside the golden chandeliers.
Focusing on ground level seemed like a great thing to do.
The occupants inside the room made the people I’d thought were the top courtiers in the halls look . . . shabby. Their clothing seemed paradoxical: shimmering fabric and completely see-through, a canvas for their wealthy display. Numerous jewels were stitched into the iridescent garments, accentuating and concealing in a titillating display. The men wore aketons, and the women shifts resembling a chemise, but in neither case did the clothing cover anything.
I’d initially skimmed over the servants until my gaze snagged on a silver tray. I stared at the person carrying it, trying to reconcile what I’d already assumed to the new reality presented before me. The servants were dressed much like the wealthy, but they were the ones with their bodies painted in swirling black patterns. I stared in shock as a man fondled the woman holding the tray. She dropped the platter of bite-sized something, and then the two of them—
I dropped my gaze to the floor. I was just going to look at the floor for a while.
Just look at the back of Dyter’s head, Tyrrik said, his voice still strangled. You can’t be staring at the ground, Ryn; you need to keep the veil up. They’ve taken us through here to purposely unsettle us.
I wasn’t so sure. No one seemed to be trying anything; most Azulis weren’t even paying any attention to us. These people were . . . different. Utterly different. They had different worries, different priorities. I couldn’t relate to them on any level. I didn’t understand how they could be like this with what was happening outside their kingdom.
Were they aware of the troubles? If they were, this party was completely depraved. Yet, though I was baffled and disturbed by the goings on around me, I couldn’t detect true malice.
We followed in the wake of Dyter, Dilowa, Gairome, and Zarad. I glanced away to search for the assassins and immediately averted my gaze back to the front.
There was something really wrong with these people.
Dyter approached the dais, his bald head glowing with embarrassment. He’d caught me and Tyrrik kissing and been mortified. I was surprised the old coot wasn’t yelling about his eyes right now.
A stunning redheaded young woman sat upon a gem-encrusted throne, her face alight with excitement. She wore a shimmery green dress with emeralds circling her breasts and dipping in a V toward her lady bits like an arrow showing everyone the way. She clapped her hands and squealed, and the jiggle was real. “I am Queen Mily. Have you come for a visit? All the way from Berald?”
No. Way. Was she serious?
“Verald,” Dyter corrected her, raising his voice to be heard over the din.
She bounced in her seat, her breasts springing in and out of view. I leaned forward, squinting at the emeralds. How had she stuck those on?
“Berald sounds so romantic,” the woman said. “The story about that girl in the dungeon who is really a princess?” She sighed and clasped her hands to her chest. “I hope she gets her prince.”
This lady had to be kidding? She clearly knew something of the outside world if she’d heard about my stint in the dungeons. The queen was either stupid or a very good actor, and I really didn’t trust either option.