The White Sheep's Disguise ✓

Chapter 30

Aela stops herself short of slamming the door behind me when I walk into the queen's private chambers. I don't see her as an ally, nor a friend, so I can't understand why I desire someone—even her—to follow along. Alone in a room with the Raven Queen, my senses jump out of control from one possibility to the next.

It's only when I notice her pacing in her library that I realize how disastrous this situation is about to become. The guards standing post to the inside of her doors don't watch her. They stare straight ahead like they're afraid of breathing out of turn and must pay for it later. My feet don't want to move. What I'd give to be back in the training room with Cloak, even Aela who can't wait to pummel me into the floor.

She didn't speak a word the entirety of the way here. I had trouble keeping up with her and had to resort to jogging to maintain a fast, no-nonsense pace. Rolling my ankle on the bottom of a stair made me wince, but she snickered and walked faster.

I rub a hand up and down my arm and force myself to get on with it. The guards won't allow me to depart, they'd slice my arm off before that happened, so I'm left to face whatever trial the queen wishes me to overcome next. The silk black robe hanging off her shoulders trails her, an open breeze lifting it into the air as she moves back and forth, back and forth.

Her wardrobe consists of similar colors. Dark shades of intimidation so the land knows she will cast a shadow over their brightest days if that is what it takes to earn their loyalty. In the privacy of her chambers, she's as presentable and beautiful as ever. Her perfectly straight hair stops like the side of a dagger's blade to her collarbones.

The break in her heart-shaped face are those deep-set eyes—their violet tint as calm as a flower meadow. They're muddled, brought to life by rage coiling like a snake.

"You summoned me," I mutter.

Somehow, through the cluster of chaos pushing in on her skull, she hears me. Her head snaps over, finding me standing only feet away, already trying to shrink into a ball. I prepare myself for what happens next, whether a Terravale stabbing me in the abdomen out of rage, only to heal me later, or killing me entirely. Her plans always revolve around one matter.

Life or death.

"My son is not healing," she growls, clenching her fists together. "Have you been putting in no work at all?"

I cower.

"Your Majesty, I—"

"You do not speak out of turn!" She rushes at me, jabbing her finger towards the ceiling, and a rush of wind from her robe stops short of knocking me off my feet. I open my eyes after having closed them to find her face inches away from mine, nostrils flaring. Pain-filled eyes stare me down and I have nowhere else to look than the woman transforming into a beast in front of my eyes. "In case you have not heard, I am hearing rumors that my sister, Wyetta Terravale, will advance on taking the throne for herself."

She speaks painfully quiet, all the while advancing on me. I force myself back to keep the distance, but the Raven Queen keeps coming, towering over my small frame. "I hadn't heard, Your Majesty." As if I could, I've been too busy trying to reason between here and home, all the while healing her unstable son.

Apparently, I'm not succeeding at anything.

My heel hits the leg of a desk, trapping me against her fury, and the queen grabs onto my face. I flinch—my first instinct being to tear myself away—but she grips on tight and digs her nails into my skin. She tilts her head, scrutinizing every inch of my face. "What a beautiful appearance," she whispers. "It would be a shame if I dug deep enough to mar you permanently."