Ageless

Chapter 25

The throne room was suspended in a suffocating silence, only broken by Nadia's wet sobs.

Malcolm leaned in close to whisper in my ear. "Jillian, my angel, you must be overwhelmed by all of this, but your duties as queen can wait. Go and rest. Finish the Trial of the Body. Someone will come for you at the break of dawn, and escort you down to the Royal Gallery. There we shall talk. Alone."

I opened my mouth to respond, but he was already striding away, a trail of hooded guards following in his wake.

Once he was gone, the dignitaries rose from their seats and began to file out, much more a disorganized mob than the neat line that had entered the room. This time, Mia wheeled me down the aisle as part of their ranks; I had gone from commoner to noble in a matter of hours. Hendrik caught my eye as I left, and flashed me a brilliant smile.

Nadia was still dabbing at her eyes, and the others were whispering in sharp angry voices, pausing only to throw the occasional dirty look at me. I caught bits and pieces of the gossip as they drifted in and out of ear-shot.

"If you thought the King was mad before-"

"The gall of the church! To get that sweet girl Nadia's hopes up like that... once her brother hears of this-"

"Poor Lord Fuller! And the mouth on that low-born trash the King keeps as his lap dog-"

"Alynsa's father would roll over in his grave-"

"That girl he calls the Angel, she must be some kind of gypsy enchantress-"

Though I had only been awake for a few hours, the neurotoxins seemed to be sapping me of all my strength. By the time we made it off the lifts, I was already fading. As soon as my head hit the soft feather pillows of the queen's bed, I was asleep.

My dreams were hazy and disjointed that night, but here's what I remember.

First I had a dream where Malcolm was torturing an old man by lashing him with a whip. Again and again the old man begged my husband for mercy. Instead he laughed and said, "Not until you're unconscious."

After that I dreamed that Malcolm and I moved to New York City, taking up residence in a pencil thin tower that looked out over the river. As we admired our view of the city, we noticed that the streets had become overrun by an army of demons, howling like wolves in pain. Several noticed us looking down, and started scaling up the tower towards our apartment. A man wearing a black mask climbed through the window first, and pointed straight at me with a gnarled finger. When I turned to Malcolm, he was holding a sword, and rushed forward and stabbed the invader through the heart. The man fell to the ground, and dissolved into nothing. Then Malcolm faced me, holding the sword out for me to take, and said, "You must beware the man who wears the mask, babe. In a city like this, I can't always protect you."

Last, I dreamed of drowning again, as a motor-boat sailed away, just out of reach.

"Wake up, your highness!"

I opened my eyes. Mia was standing over me, propping me up in the bed.

"The King's escort come soon, to take you down to Royal Gallery. Can you walk, your highness?"

I poked one of my legs. Still numb. "Looks like I'm still using the chair," I said.

There was a knock at the door. "This is him now!" she said, rushing over to answer.

The door creaked open, and Father Caollin walked into the room.

His eyes found me, and I glared back at him, adrenaline rushing into my veins, replacing the grogginess of sleep. As we stood deadlocked in a stare-down, I noticed his smile was missing. He looked serious, maybe even concerned.