The White Sheep's Disguise ✓

Chapter 57

The Claiming's Eve celebration lasts long into the night. Rather than partaking in the festivities, I sit near the palace on a stone bench and listen to the theatrics of dancing and music bleeding through the hedges. I had to practically force Cloak to enjoy himself; he didn't wish to leave me while Rylan still strutted around, but Lyndel revealed that my husband didn't bother to stick around and disappeared on the road that leads to the capital.

Still, Cloak tasked the fladline with standing at my shoulder for the remainder of the night. Either the white raven pendant looping around my neck doesn't hold as much protection as originally thought, or Cloak really doesn't trust Rylan not to obey to the claiming ceremony. I would've enjoyed sitting in the silence with Lyndel at my shoulder, staring out at the distant celebration, if it wasn't for a couple sneaking away to make love against a tree.

Distant moans and sharp breaths usher me inside the palace, followed by a claim that I'm tired and wish to sleep. Lyndel is already antsy to get back to his prince so as soon as I'm within the same confines of the palace, he skitters away without another word and, like Rylan, disappears into the dark. Instead of heading to my lonely room, I ease myself into Gustus's silent chambers. Theo is already there, sprawled across the bed and reading a book. He hardly pays me any heed, other than a side glance, before I disappear into the bathing chamber and peel off the complicated layers of my pink gown.

A knock sounds on the door a moment later and I roll my eyes, but it's only Theo handing me a pair of cinch-waist pants and a comfortable, long-sleeved shirt that hugs my throat and tightens at the wrists.

I scrub myself clean from head to toe and wash the cosmetics from my face, removing the golden pins from my hair. I run my fingers through the knotted trusses and clean deep, removing all hints and scents of celebration. When I'm done, soaking wet and sparkly clean, I ease my back against the tub and dull the ache in my skull by shifting into my Luminary form.

My eyes close, but something distracts me from sleep. Something...heavy. My heart beats directly underneath the pendant and I finally realize in the silence that I can examine it. The white wings spread wide, the raven shifting to the side as if to land. Running my thumb over the rough ridges and bumps, I trace the flower edging and sharp beak of the raven. Already, the symbol feels like part of me.

Like the raven belongs against my heart.

I remain in the tub until the water turns chilled and I have no other option than to remove myself. When I emerge wearing clean clothes and an even cleaner face, I find Theo is no longer the only resident in Gustus's chambers. The prince himself sits at the head of the table, Chaska at his shoulder. They both force tired smiles as it's the middle of the night and no one has received time to sleep. The celebration continues on, likely with the rest of the royal family at its center.

"We brought you food," Gustus chides blearily. He slides a full plate to the empty chair next to Theo. I don't realize how hungry I am after vomiting into the bucket until I see that gorgeous plate of food from the celebration itself.

Cloak held back my hair and said he had noticed my face turning slightly green when he put the pendant around my neck. Knowing he only had minutes to spare, he removed me from the celebration as quickly as he could until I came to the realization that my stomach was not in good spirits.

I didn't see him much after that. His mother expects him to take part in the celebration, as well as introduce himself to a possible suitor. Something about that doesn't sit right with me. If the queen herself doesn't have to wed to support the land, why should he? Like Gustus, Cloak should receive the chance to make his own decisions about who he weds.

I bite back a moan at the first taste of seared duck on my plate. "I haven't eaten all day," I say around a bite of food in my cheek. Smothering the meat and potatoes in a rich gravy, I gather a hearty helping onto my fork and attempt to unhinge my jaw to fit everything in at once. Needless to say, it doesn't work and most of my helping splatters back onto the plate—landing directly in the peas and carrots.