Vengeance Throne (The Callistra Chronicles #2)

THIRTY-FOUR

Chapter Thirty-Four

"No," Pasiphae whispered. This entire time, her handmaiden had been the Seelie Queen. The falling chandelier had been a test—it had been a goddamn test from the queen to see how much of a threat Pasiphae of Eo truly was.

And now Evara knew. Evara knew that Pasiphae couldn't do a thing about this growing situation.

"Well, what a welcome," Evara crooned. She narrowed her eyes at the nobles closest to her, and despite her smile, the expression was murderous. "I can't say I especially approve of this."

Slowly, Pasiphae staggered to her feet. Her heart was clenched in fear for Seth, but her hands were shaking in anger. She had never seen Evara in person—she hadn't known what Evara looked like before this moment, and yet there was really no doubt who this person was. From her dark, curly hair to her jet-black, round eyes, Evara was the mirror image of Seth, only female and regal and wicked.

But more so, there were also strange markings crawling up and down the exposed parts of her olive skin. Judging by the curious murmuring from the crowd, Pasiphae determined that this was a new detail: this was something Evara hadn't disappeared with. The markings were glowing with power, glowing—

Like calls to like.

Pasiphae shoved a hand into the back of her dress, and pulled out her burning knife. That was what Naeyrs meant. The magic that Seth had sensed had been neither fae nor witch—it had been that of the jinn, and now the strange sigils Evara had carved into her skin were activating the ones etched into Pasiphae's blade.

"Let go of him," Pasiphae said. Though she had spoken calmly, her voice carried all across the field with a boom, drawing the queen's attention to her.

Evara cocked her head, entertained.

"Will you make me, Pasiphae of Eo?" she asked. Then, with a sneer, she added, "Or will the revolution make me? Shall we wait for the villagers to arrive so they too can witness the death of their rebel symbol?"

Seth stiffened in visible panic at the threat on his life. The nobles started exchanging glances with one another, putting together the truth of this ceremony, putting together the identity of Airesi's vigilante. They cast suspicious stares at Pasiphae and suspicious stares at Seth, but, they were also eyeing Evara with hesitance.

As silent battle lines were drawn upon the field, it was evident that the nobility still belonged behind Evara. If push came to shove, they would fight on her side, but at present, they were terror stricken by her appearance, horrified by her palpable anger. Even if they shared her sentiment towards the prince, they were not used to such open threats, such callous displays of power.

The nobles wanted Evara on the throne, but they were now seeing the true scale of her hatred—a hatred so great that she could easily turn on them all and let loose a massacre, destroying any person in her way until she was the only one left within these Court walls.

That—that was what gave the nobility pause. That was the only reason why Pasiphae hadn't yet been tackled down by someone's knight.

Knowing that she was running out of time, Pasiphae darted her gaze to Seth again, who seemed to be begging her to run with his terrified expression. Evara had ambushed them—they hadn't counted on her launching such an attack, and now it wasn't as if Seth could fight his mother off while she had him in a death grip.

All he needed was to find even footing again, and then they would have a chance at defeating Evara.

So Pasiphae wasn't going to run.