Four Dead Queens(23)

The echo of the story made the hairs stand on the back of Stessa’s neck. She decided to focus on his better features, like his shapely bow mouth. She wondered if the lines around his mouth were smile lines, and if they were due to a particular person in his life. She doubted it. Eonists were assigned mates for effective breeding—not love.

Stessa’s chest constricted at the thought of a life without love. She couldn’t imagine it, although she’d often worried it would be her fate as a queen.

Stessa had grown up in a house warmed by love and affection, as present as the sun, the moon and the quadrant walls. Her parents had loved one another deeply and had instilled the importance of this emotion within their adopted daughter. The most important emotion, they’d often said.

Let love guide your heart, and everything else will fall into place.

It had been a year since Stessa’s birth mother had passed away and she’d been forced to leave her family, and her life, behind. Still, not a day went by that she didn’t think of her family back in Ludia.

In the first few weeks, Stessa had considered breaking out of the palace to be with her family. Her real family, not the cold, still woman she’d visited in the Queenly Tombs in the cavernous underbelly of the palace. She didn’t even look like her mother. Stessa’s dark eyes, copper skin and black hair contrasted against the pale blond woman. Their only shared feature was their petite stature.

She must’ve gotten her looks from her father, Stessa had realized, selected from a number of suitors during one of the annual matching balls. To be matched with a Quadarian queen meant a wealth of riches, with one condition—he could never lay claim to the Quadarian throne or his offspring.

Stessa knew her father had come from across the seas, from a nation united as one land. A nation of one ruler. A king. She couldn’t imagine such a place. The quadrant walls maintained peace on the expansive continent. Without the walls, Quadara would fall to ruin, as it had in the years when the last Quadarian king ruled, and battles and uprisings were as frequent as lightning across a stormy sky. With Quadara’s fragility laid bare, the neighboring nations had turned their eyes across the sea to the largest land. Something had to be done.

Then the Quadarian king died, and everything had changed.

Even though living under the reign of a king was inconceivable, Stessa had considered traveling to Toria to secure transport across the sea. She could live with her biological father. Anywhere but the palace.

But in her fifth week on the Ludist throne, Stessa saw an opportunity. An opportunity she couldn’t let slip by. She could reclaim a piece of Ludia for herself.

She missed the labyrinthine streets and winding canals. She missed the sweet smell of perfume and pastries that constantly hung in the air. And she missed her friends and the nightlong parties they attended. Ludia was a metropolis region that never slept. Stessa was still not used to the quiet palace after midnight.

After reciting his findings into his recording device, the inspector leaned forward. “What concerns me is the efficiency of the murder.” He cleared his throat. “I have no doubt this was premeditated.” A shiver ran down Stessa’s spine.

She glanced at one of the advisors—Lyker, her advisor-in-training—a tall and striking boy with a square jaw, colorful tattoos climbing up his neck to his chin and a flame of red hair perfectly coiffed upon his head. A coif she’d ruined countless times by running her fingers through it as they lay in bed together. He briefly stuck his tongue out at her, before returning to his stoic expression. Stessa hid a grin.

Ludists loved meeting new people, especially other Ludists. Well, that was what Stessa had claimed when Lyker first entered the palace, her arms flying around his middle before she could stop herself. If she’d been smarter, she would’ve kept her distance. But she was her parents’ child. Her heart ruled her emotions, and actions. He’d smelled of home—her mother’s cream-filled pastries and the peppermint oil Ludists used to stain their lips. But his warning hiss came in time, as she’d been about to reach up and taste him.

She’d explained to her sister queens that she’d been overcome by the connection to home. They’d believed her, knowing Ludists were passionate and warm, and not knowing Stessa’s ears pinked when she lied.

Corra raised her hand. A stupid Eonist habit, Stessa thought. She was a queen; she needn’t ask permission for anything, especially now.

The inspector turned to his queen. He would’ve been quite handsome when he was younger, Stessa thought. Her gaze flashed to Lyker’s, worried he could read the appreciation in her eyes, as he often did. She was devoted to Lyker, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like to look at other men. She was Ludist, and they all appreciated beauty. Lyker was no different.

But he was more sensitive than she was, and she often found herself watching for his reaction. He used to be a street artist, painting poetry onto the sides of Ludist buildings. Each flick and loop of a letter constructed a city of thought and feeling. Without access to his art, he had no outlet. A wounded animal, ready to lash out at any moment. His temper burning as brightly as his hair.

Like her, he was too open to the world and consequently felt too much. Stessa hated to think what would happen when she turned eighteen and was forced to attend her first matching ball. She avoided the topic whenever he brought it up, but she couldn’t avoid it forever.

“Yes, Queen Corra?” the inspector asked. Stessa made an effort to maintain her attention on her sister queen, rather than Lyker and the strange man opposite her.