Bedelth the Orange (Dragonwall Series #5)

Chapter 22 - A Little Black Bat

Kastali Dun

Claire entered the dining hall, her arm linked through Talon's. Voices faltered. Chairs scraped as everyone surged to their feet. Talon's steps did not slow. His posture remained proud as he led her past the threshold and down the central aisle.

Every pair of eyes felt like a weight. She placed a hand over her stomach, then dropped it. A queen did not show nerves, even if tonight was a good reason to be nervous.

Her gown swished, brushing against her bare legs. Miera and Selphie had taken yet another and modified it to look more Spriten. This one had come from the vast supply in the queen's wardrobe. It was a vibrant, royal blue, a color reserved for royalty alone, with layers of skirts. Her handmaidens had removed a large portion of the corset bodice from her hips to her ribs, replacing it with a matching tulle, over which they'd sewn swirling patterns of glass beads. They'd also removed the sleeves, usually attached with ties and laces, and swapped them for tulle sleeves of the same color, also covered in glass beads.

It showed her Spriten markings without being obnoxious.

Her eyes darted down the length of herself before lifting. Like the others, it was exquisite. How they'd managed in such a short time was a mystery. As they'd settled in over the past three days, she'd tried to catch them at it, to learn their secret. But each time she spotted them, they wielded a needle and thread like anyone would, albeit more deftly. Still, she stood by her theory. They had to be using Spriten magic.

Near the side of the hall, she caught Saffra's gaze and bowed her head. Saffra offered her a small smile, a tiny lift of her brows. They hadn't gotten to spend much time together these past few days. Saffra had been helping Mage Marcel with some of the younger mages, and she'd been too busy simply adjusting to life in the keep again.

The head table loomed before her. Talon led her up the steps and around the back. He'd insisted she sit beside him. It had been a point of contention their first night back, but he'd won the argument with his usual logic. After all, the head table was a place for royalty.

He pulled out her chair, helping to get her settled. It was where Reyr usually sat. Talon had already commissioned a new table, one that would seat his Shields and her Queen's Guard. The massive piece was due to be finished two days from now.

"My queen. Looking ravishing, as ever." Koldis bumped his shoulder against hers. He sat on her right. Talon settled in on her left. "Doesn't she look ravishing, Your Grace?"

"Always," Talon said, winking. Her smile wobbled; she tightened her lips, trying to hold it fixed, fighting against her nerves.

She glanced about the dining hall, watching everyone get settled, watching her Queen's Guard take their the seats closest to the head table. She caught Feowen's eye. He grinned, wagging his eyebrows. If it was meant to be reassuring, the gesture failed.

Her stomach fluttered.

"They appear to be settling in," Koldis mused, following her line of sight, perhaps ignorant to her inner turmoil.

"I think so," she managed, finding her voice. "We had fun at the market. I wish you could have come along."

"Believe me, I would have preferred the market to sitting in that stuffy throne—" A throat cleared loudly. Talon's. "—to listening to the rightful requests of our people, as is my sacred duty as a Shield."

"Not much better," Talon growled.

She and Koldis shared a silent look, mirth dancing in their eyes.

Clink. Clink. Clink. She jolted. A ringing chime filled the air. Talon's cutlery clinked against his goblet. The tinkling sound silenced the dining hall.