I recognize a few of them: Midas’s advisors, Fulke’s advisors who used to visit with him in Highbell, but there are new faces too, I’m assuming from the queen’s kingdom.
The royals are congregated in the middle, looking across at each other between spires of fake icicles that are lit up between flickering candles. Midas sits with the prince at his left, their advisors sprinkled off to the side. With her back to me sits the woman who must be the queen. There’s really no question, not with the glittering crown resting on her head, thick sable hair securing it in place with pins of pearls and sea stars.
When I’m halfway across the room, Midas looks up from his discussion and raises a hand to beckon me over. Keeping my steps unhurried and even, I let my eyes sweep across the faces that turn to track my arrival.
Above me, the chandeliers throw off crystalline light, and there’s a harp in front of the windows behind the table. A fireplace is roaring off to the left, big enough that I could walk inside and sleep on its logs.
I round the table, murmured voices lifting to my ears as people sip from wine goblets, waiting for dinner to arrive. At least I’ll be able to stuff my face, because I suddenly realize that I’m starved.
As I reach his chair, Midas’s assessing gaze roves up my form, not with appreciation, but with appraisal, like he’s checking to make sure I’m suitable for his fancy supper. His eyes snag on the torn strip at the back of my dress, and a tic appears in his jaw. “Auren.”
I nod and give him the same sort of evaluating look, just to irritate him. “King Midas.”
Across the table, the queen of Third Kingdom arches a brow at my exchange. At the very least, a full curtsy would’ve been proper, but I won’t bow to him anymore. The only reason I’ll be bending the knee for him again is to jerk it right back up to hit him in the groin.
“So this is your golden girl...” The queen regards me with her attentive umber eyes, and I use the moment to do the same to her.
Her tawny complexion goes beautifully with the gown she’s wearing, the buttermilk fabric molding to her curves, with wide buttons down the bodice that shine like diamonds.
“Yes, this is her.” Midas’s hand reaches over to run a knuckle up my sleeved forearm.
My ribbons tighten around my hips, the silken strips going hard like they want to lash out and smack his touch away. A creepy crawly feeling tapers down my skin as he continues to stroke me, and it takes everything in me to school my features and not yank my arm away.
“Auren, meet Queen Kaila Ioana of Third Kingdom.”
I dip into a curtsy. “Your Majesty,” I murmur. “I hope your travels to Fifth Kingdom weren’t too taxing.”
Her lush lips pull up at the corners. “Not nearly as taxing as I’ve heard your travels were,” she replies. “Captured by the snow pirates, then taken by Fourth’s army, all while traveling across the Barrens into Fifth.” She makes a clicking noise. “It’s a wonder you’ve made it in one piece.”
“I was lucky that Fourth was there to intervene.”
Midas stiffens and drops his hand, though he says nothing to dispute my words. He and I both know it’s true. If I’d gone with the Red Raids, there’s a good chance I’d be dead right now. So much has happened since then. If Fourth’s army hadn’t been there, I would still be that girl pining after her captor.
“Well, isn’t she just a golden doll?”
My attention goes to the man sitting to the queen’s right, and I immediately see the family resemblance.
“My most trusted advisor and brother, Manu,” the queen introduces.
He has thick black hair pulled back tight at the nape of his neck, and he’s wearing a yellow vest beneath his dress jacket, a tuft of silken fabric pooling out across the neckline. With one hand holding his goblet and the other flung across the back of the chair of the man sitting next to him, he gives me a look that I can only describe as delighted.
“Keon, don’t you think she’s a doll?” he asks, leaning into the man at his side.
Keon runs dark brown eyes over me, the shine from his bald head gleaming beneath the chandeliers and highlighting the dangling necklaces roped down his front. “She’s taller than I thought she’d be,” the slight man responds.
Manu nods. “And look at that hair.” He leans in, the collared frills gaping down to reveal his tawny chest beneath. “Doll, you could sell that for barrels of coin.”
“Umm...thank you?”
Queen Kaila shoots him a look. “Don’t fluster King Midas’s favored, brother. It’s bad manners.”
A dazzling smile encroaches over Manu’s handsome face. “But being bad is so much more fun, dear sister.”
She gives him a deadpan look, though it’s impossible to miss the affection sparkling in her eyes.
“Ah, dinner is served.”
Midas’s announcement pulls everyone’s attention to the dozen servants filing in from a doorway at the back and carrying platters of food.