The next morning blurred together as she rose, the Septines announcing that all the kingdoms had arrived. Breakfast was hurried, and she was dressed by Adelyn and Selene, who worked in tense silence. Today she wore a violet dress—elegant and flowing, not tight or frilly. The banquet room was breathtaking—a fusion of all four kingdoms, with constellations and vortexes backed by glowing light and framed by boundless shadows. It was a feast of magical splendor.
"My lady," a voice called from behind her. Layla went rigid at the familiar sound. She hadn't seen him in years, but she could never forget that voice.
"Prince Helios," Layla said, turning with a practiced smile. The prince bowed low and gently took her hand, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles.
"It's been too long, my queen. How was your journey?" he asked, meeting her eyes. He was handsome by any standard—most women would have swooned at his attention. His golden bronze skin glowed like a forgotten sunset, and his long braided hair shimmered in the banquet hall lights. But his arrogance repelled her—that entitled air of royalty she despised, the way they seemed to float above everyone else. Just because she was chosen to be queen didn't make her better than anyone—it just made her responsible. Sometimes she even felt lesser than those who cooked or cleaned or drew their baths.
"Long and bumpy," Layla replied, pulling her hand from his grip, "but worth the wait. The Nexus has proven simply beautiful." She kept her smile as genuine as possible to avoid insulting the prince of Solares.
"It truly is a sight to behold. I've been here before and it still takes my breath away. I can remember how it felt the first time I set foot here—spectacular." He stood straighter, showing rows of ivory teeth. His orange and gold tunic was stunning, even to Layla, with an inner light that highlighted patterns of crystal claws.
"Spectacular is an apt description," Layla said, scanning the room for Dara, who was supposed to stay by her side for precisely this occasion. "If you'll excuse me, Prince. I must continue my rounds. It was a pleasure seeing you again." She bowed to the prince.
"The pleasure is all mine," he said, capturing her hand and placing one last kiss on her skin before turning to mingle with the other royals.
"Dara," Layla whispered, nudging her friend's elbow. Dara was piling roasted meat and pie onto a silver plate.
"What?" Dara asked, still focused on the food.
"You weren't by my side. The prince just cornered me." Dara went still, scanning the room until she spotted the Sun Prince, who was still smiling in Layla's direction.
Dara set her plate aside, her hand falling to her blade. "Tongue?" she asked, taking a step from the table.
"No," Layla said, pulling her back. "Just stay with me."
"The Queen of Auroris." A new voice spoke from in front of her. This one was smoother, more feminine, but somehow darker—not bright like the prince's.
"We have never been formally introduced. Queen Nimura of Lunaris," she said, simply lowering her gaze to Layla. Layla studied the queen—she was nothing like she'd imagined. She'd always heard stories of the Lunarian queen, the one who uprooted four thousand years of royalty and went from advisor to queen in a single day. When she heard those tales, she'd pictured someone dressed in black, with horns protruding from her head and eyes that crawled through your skin. But that couldn't have been further from the truth. Before her stood a stunningly beautiful Fae with hair as white as starlight covering slightly pointed ears lined with golden rings. Her eyes were like liquid fire staring into an infinite void, endlessly glowing. She was elegant, and her skin was as golden as the beaches of Solares—nothing like the pale, frosted complexion Layla had imagined.
"I was sorry to hear of your parents' passing. My condolences and best wishes for your ascension to the throne, my dear," she said, white teeth appearing behind her lips.
"Thank you, Queen Nimura. You are as kind as you are beautiful," Layla replied, giving the queen a small bow.
"You flatter me, child," Nimura said with a smile, waving the compliment away. "I'm sure you're finding the Nexus comfortable and alluring?"
"It's nothing like I have ever seen," Layla said, finding unexpected comfort in the queen's company—until she noticed them perched on the queen's shoulders like guardians of the night. Two ravens, solid black, flew from the crowd and landed—one with a golden eye and the other with a purple iris that caught her off guard. All she could do was stare until Nimura finally spoke.
"This is Rena and Burlo. My companions. Birds are lovely companions, don't you think, Layla?" the queen asked, stroking their feathers with an ensnaring grin curving at the corners of her mouth.
"Of course," Layla responded, clearly shaken by the birds' sudden appearance. "It was lovely to meet you." She stepped back as Dara tugged at her shoulder, pulling her toward the buffet.
"What the hell was that?" Dara hissed. "Making friends with the enemy now?"
"I can't just ignore everyone here. Then I really would be the odd one out, wouldn't I? Besides, if I speak to them now, at least they'll think I'm cordial, not some snobby princess queen."
"Fair enough," Dara said, shoving more food into her mouth. The booming sound of conversation began to hush as the lights dimmed, turning the golden hue into a silver-dark glow that covered the entire hall. Out of the shadows stepped a large man she had never seen before. He wore tight leather wrapped in what looked like silk, shaded in moonlight and wrapped in shadow, with white and silver weapons hanging from his sides as he walked into the hall. The crowd fell completely silent as he moved like liquid night, the cold blue of his eyes like ice clouds floating in a crystal sea. She could feel the chill emanating from him. King Malachai, she thought as he turned and gave her a small bow—no smile, no warmth in his eyes like Prince Helios, just a cold acknowledgment. Then he moved to the table, piling meat onto the decorative plates.
But it wasn't the king that truly captured her attention—it was the figure sitting in the corner, shrouded in the shadows the king had left behind. He sat silently, as if drowning in darkness, most of his face hidden. It was his eyes that made her look twice—not icy blue like the king's, but pure gold with an amber hue that set him apart from the shadows. She found herself captivated by this mysterious figure, taken aback by the small muscle that seemed to tick in his jaw as she watched.
"That's King Malachai," Dara said, moving beside her.
"I figured," Layla murmured, annoyed that Dara had pulled her attention away from the shadowed figure. But when she turned back, he was gone—nothing but small patterns of shadow swirling where he'd been. His stare had been chilling, yet it had drawn her in. Into what, she didn't know. There was something about him that sparked her curiosity—enough to remember him.