The White Sheep's Disguise ✓

Chapter 46

I consider detouring to Cloak's chambers first, as the strange look he gave me in the throne room demands an explanation, but the second my power receives a lick of hope, a whisper of freedom, it leaps out of control in my chest like an excited dog. My stomach ties itself into knots, an invisible nervousness that doesn't belong to me at all, but to the Luminary blossoming within. I cannot control what goes on inside my body, but I don't necessarily wish to stop the excitement that doesn't originate from my own control.

The door to Gustus's chambers is closed and I open it without a knock, already shifting. The tips of my scalp flesh to white and I turn, immediately shoving that to a stop. Gustus's eyes grow wide from where he sits at the head of his dining table, but everyone else in company is too deep in conversation to notice. I suck up the white hairs and smooth out my shirt, acting as if I'm picking a piece of lint off the fabric.

And just in time. Cloak's head jerks up from where he sits at Gustus's shoulder, Theo on the other side. At his shoulder, her hands folded neatly in her lap to hide their destructive nature is Setsuko. I narrow my eyes at all of them, wondering the important issue that brought them all here today, and why Gustus wasn't wise enough to warn me that we wouldn't be alone. Clearly, I have grown to trust him too much. The privacy of his chambers is a luxury, not an escape I should come to expect.

Half-empty bowls of soup cover the tables in front of them, and a full one rests at Cloak's right elbow. Waiting for me. My hammering heart gives off the impression that this is more than a simple supper shared among friends to gossip about the palace's shortcomings and the boring meeting. No, they're gathered here for something else that required as little information as possible. No wonder Gustus's note had been so vague.

Normally, the prince stops himself short of reciting a poem to invite me to his chambers, and the clean-cut demand to come visit should've thrown me off. Too trusting, indeed.

"What is going on?" I demand before anyone else can get a word out. The only Terravale child missing from the table is Aela, proving this matter is truly about me. She wouldn't care enough to sit at this table with her siblings, not if the matter closely relates to someone she wishes to rip the head off of.

"Welcome, Marie." Gustus paints on a friendly smile. One that doesn't convey his normal, carefree attitude. "Sit, the servants brought you a bowl of soup. Your favorite—beef and cheddar."

I cross my arms over my chest. "No, I want to stand for this. Whatever it is." Without my knowledge, my voice is rising before I've decided whether this meeting is a good or a bad thing. The wary looks of their faces tells me nothing decent can come from it, so my mind immediately shifts to expecting the worst.

Could it be Castiel? Chaska? Did they receive news that Rylan went on a rampage and killed my entire family? A different sinking feeling drops my stomach and bile rises into my cheeks. My imagination, always one step ahead of me, makes me weak in the knees. No, my family is still alive and Rylan is still drinking himself into a wasted beast.

Cloak exchanges a look with his brother, urging him to go on. I'm taken back. I didn't expect Cloak to run this meeting, I fully expected his brother to be the one to practically force me into my seat, but Gustus smiles sheepishly and plunders on. He wrings out his hands but has the courage to lock his stare with mine as he speaks. "We want you to be claimed at the ceremony." My mouth drops open, ready to retort, but he continues, speeding up his words to block mine. "If you are claimed, Rylan—or anyone else—can not touch you if the rules deem it. This is what we wish to set in place after what he did." At least he doesn't wait around to reveal this.

"You're insane. All of you. I'll never do such a thing. Every year, the claims have no other choice to participate in the ceremony, then they're gawked at, some are slaughtered, raped, or screamed at days later for even taking part. Those against the throne do not tolerate Claiming's Eve." I jab a finger at Gustus. "What goes on at the docks is none of your business, and I've told you on multiple occasions to stop meddling."