Demon Slave (Shadow Quest Book 2) (23 page)

In the throne room, soft music played while couples danced. Ava sought out Jestina right away. Like always, Wren stayed close.

“
It’s good to see you,” Ava greeted.

“
You, as well,” Jestina replied, then she placed her hand on Ava’s shoulder. “I haven’t had a chance to see you since...well, I’m so sorry—”

“
This ball is lovely,” Ava interrupted. The last thing she wanted was break down in fresh tears. “Your father did a wonderful job putting this together for you.”

Jestina smiled. “You know very well my father had nothing to do with the décor, or the food. The servants are to be credited. And the people? They’re all here for you, I’m sure.”

“
Unfortunately, I think you might be right.” The room was packed.

“
At least I can boast that my ball was attended by all the great families. Look”—she pointed—“even the Muray’s are here.”

“
Ah, Irina will be so jealous.”

“
Not if she can procure a husband from tonight. I saw her dragging Destin onto the dance floor.” At Ava’s consoling look, Jestina shrugged. “She can have him.”

Sr. Baret appeared beside his daughter. “How wonderful to see you again, Princess Avaline. We are honored.”

“
Thank you. I’m glad to be here.”

“
Have you decided who you’ll be nominating? A few of us have a bet going and I would love to know if I should bow out now.” He winked.

“
Father!” Jestina chided.

Ava unclenched her teeth, and spoke as kind as she could. “I’m delighted, Sir Baret, that you can find some entertainment under the circumstances and I would hate to ruin your fun.”

Sr. Baret paled. “Of course I meant no disrespect, my dear. I offer my condolences for your loss.”

Wren spoke from behind. “Princess, would you care to dance?”

She turned, thankful for the excuse to step away. “Yes, please.”

Wren led her onto the floor and they started moving to the elegant music.

“
You okay?”

Throat tight, Ava gave a nod.

Be strong, she told herself.

Over Wren’s shoulder, her eyes settled on her father’s throne—elaborately decorated, and elevated by rows of delicately curved steps. It was where her father, and then later Nadua, once sat. She was reminded of their unwavering dedication to both her and the Cyrellian people. Her people.

In a low voice, Wren asked, “Do you know who it will be?”

Ava had been to nearly every gathering, learned every family name, and had studied the characters of each. Though some have shown more dignity than others, none could take the place of Nadua or her father. None could be what this kingdom needed. Yet all flaunted a desire for the crown.

Ava replied, “The obvious decision would be one of my aunts, but they are both so frivolous. I fear they would focus more on how a queen should look, rather than how she should act, or what she should be doing for the people.”

“
Do you think they could ruin the kingdom in a few years?”

“
A few years is an eternity for those in need. We are at war, though not many like to see it that way. A competent leader is necessary.”

Wren gave her an approving look and their eyes met. “What about you?” she whispered.

His smile faded. “If you could choose me, I would be honored. But you know it’s not possible. I am not of noble blood.”

Nor was most of the guard. But Wren would make a better leader than any of the choices allotted her. In truth, she cringed at the thought of any of them being in charge. A wild idea that had been tickling the back of her mind solidified.

“
I’ve made a decision,” she declared.

Wren pulled back to look at her. He must have seen something in her eyes because he released his hold, bowed at the waist, and backed away, leaving Ava alone while jubilant couples continued to dance around her.

It felt somewhat symbolic.

Resolved, she crossed toward the throne and reached the first step. When she took it, a few nearby conversations went silent. By the third step, half the room had stilled. The fifth step increased her determination. And on the last step, the musicians had ceased playing and she felt the entire room watching her.

Trying to slow the pounding of her heart, Ava turned to face them.

“
Welcome,” she started. “Many of you have come to celebrate Jestina’s day of birth, as I have. But I suspect that many of you present are eager to hear who I will nominate as successor to Queen Nadua.”

Ava could no longer see Wren among the large assembly. Her aunts, however, pushed through the crowd.

“
I have read that, under my father’s rule, we built this amazing city from nothing. Under Nadua’s rule, I have watched us thrive. We have seen tragedy, as well as victory. Through tragedy, we have worked together to overcome. And with each victory, we have celebrated as one.”

Applause rang out.

“
My father loved his people. As do I.”

Ava took a moment to breathe, preparing herself for what she was about to do.

“
There are many of you who would make a wonderful king or queen.” She paused before continuing. “And there are many of you would not. I’m sure you all have an opinion on the matter...but I won’t be hearing them. I will be offering no nomination.”

A few gasps and grumbles came from the crowd.

She swallowed hard and stood straighter. “Here and now, I, Avaline of the House of Dion, daughter of Fineas of the house of Dion, will be taking my rightful place as queen.” With as much elegance as she could muster, Ava sat upon her father’s throne.

A slow rumble of outrage rose.

She let it go a moment. Then her voice rose with a kind of authority that surprised even her. “If anyone objects, I invite you to come forth and speak your mind.”

The room went still. She caught the eyes of her aunts who looked stunned into speechlessness.

Movement in the crowd claimed her attention. Ava’s heart nearly stopped when it was Wren who stepped forward.

Pausing just before the first step, he pulled his sword. The sound of more metal being unsheathed echoed around the room, but she kept her eyes on Wren. If he wasn’t with her, then she was lost.

Balancing his weapon on two palms, Wren knelt before her and placed it on the ground. More soldiers moved beside him and did the same.

A significant silence coated the room. Ava’s chin lifted to the crowd expectantly, though her heart was still beating harshly. Some of the Nobles nearest to the throne gingerly knelt. Then, in a wave, the rest followed.

Wren peeked an eye up at her and grinned with pride. Ava finally swallowed the lump in her throat.

She was queen.

Today was a bad day.

Normally, Sonya had three willing demons to spar with, to take out her frustrations on. Bastian, Cale, and Marik didn’t realize it, but their sessions quite often kept her from spiraling toward the Edge. Fighting kept her sane while allowing her to bury other, more embarrassing, needs.

After a long morning in the control room, she’d handed over command of the ship to her chosen second, Aidan, and was now on the hunt for a sparring partner.

Sonya prided herself on being a fierce fighter, and had built up quite a reputation that she was normally very proud of.

Unfortunately, with the only three people who would engage her in battle gone, she was having a difficult time convincing someone to join her for a bout on the mat.

With every shake of the head, and hands flying up in immediate surrender, Sonya was beginning to lose ground on another kind of battle that had been raging inside her since last night. She pushed the memory away as she stomped down the hall.

Don’t think of it
.

She’d been telling herself the same thing all morning, but her mind always seemed to drift back to the way his lips had felt.

Damn pirate! This was his fault. Hours of training, meditating, and vigorous exercise, all designed to keep her from focusing on such things, shattered by a kiss.

She’d only enjoyed it because she’d been a little tipsy. Not because it was passionate, or demanding, or any ridiculousness like that.

Sonya thought back to the last time she’d been kissed. Surely it had been just as heated. She couldn’t recall. What she did remember was that, soon after, the man had started to grow increasingly uncomfortable around her brothers. He hadn’t stayed on the ship long.

Sonya didn’t think that her brothers intentionally kept males from wanting to pursue her. They didn’t openly threaten anyone. Rather, it was in their manner, and a look that said, “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you slowly and with great pleasure.”

Eventually, Sonya had given up on the whole prospect, and instead focused on exercise and fighting. It had worked for her thus far.

But she’d already gone through her normal routine, and this time it wasn’t helping. She needed a good fight, and there was only one person aboard who might be ignorant—or arrogant—enough to comply. And because he was the cause, he owed her a solution.

Entering The Demon’s Punchbowl, Sonya headed straight for the bar. Ethanule’s dark blue eyes followed her with a little too much intensity. Other than that, he was unreadable.

Sonya’s resolve faltered as she wondered what he thought of her outfit—a tight purple bodice with a black skirt that fell just above tall boots threaded with purple strings. Scolding herself, she quickly morphed her inappropriate reaction into fury.

His own dress was the usual Ethan garb. An overly adorned neatly tailored coat, deep red and lined with gold trim, hugged a fitted tan shirt. Dark brown trousers tucked into heavy black boots with thick gold buckles completed the outfit. Typical pirate. She would use it as a reminder of why she hated him.

“
Captain,” he greeted with his usual cavalier smile, as if nothing had happened between them. “What brings you to my fine establishment?”

“
My
fine establishment,” she corrected.

“
Don’t worry,” he assured. “For you, drinks are on the house.”

“
They better not be for anyone else.”

“
Oh, only the most important people.”

A nearby table of crew members raised their glasses and cheered at Ethan’s words. The sound quickly died at Sonya’s piercing glare, and the men pretended to look elsewhere.

She faced Ethanule, ready to give him the usual threats to his life, but he had moved to the other end of the bar and was pouring a drink for Jade, one of the few people aboard the ship who didn’t work as part of the crew. She paid a hefty sum to be ferried around, with no real destination.

Like most of the people who chose to enter space, Jade didn’t like staying in one spot for too long.
Marada
provided a safe way for her to travel, with a little more excitement than a standard cruise ship.

Jade took hold of the drink Ethanule offered, allowing her hand to linger on his a little longer than necessary. The sight made Sonya’s teeth gnash together.

When Ethanule finally came back to her end of the bar, Sonya ground out, “This ship has rules, you know. Didn’t Sebastian tell you? There’s no consorting with anyone on the ship.”

“
Was I consorting? I recall it being a little more involved than that. Anyway, I thought that rule only applied to crew? Jade just informed me that she is merely a passenger.” He paused thoughtfully. “I do believe she was flirting with me actually, which I know must be alarming to you. Me being the lowly creature that I am.” He grinned. “I will go straight to her room after work and let her know how off her judgment of character is. I’m sure she’ll be grateful for the warning. Would you like a drink?”

The harsh sound of her teeth grinding rumbled in her ears. With effort, Sonya loosened her jaw, only to allow a string of Demonish curses run past her lips.

“
That sounds sweet,” he interjected. “But I don’t think you should be coming on to me like that. You know the rules.”

“
The only reason I’m not pulling your spleen out through your eyeball is because I promised Anya I wouldn’t kill you.”