Crown of One Hundred Kings (Nine Kingdoms Trilogy #1) - Rachel Higginson Page 0,93

bowed with more respect. They brought food they knew I would like. Their gazes had softened. I hoped that if the servants could see me, the real me, that maybe the royals could as well.

Conandra and the consequences of the trial hovered on the horizon, but I had truth on my side.

That had to count for something.

26

The next two days brought arrivals from Vorestra and Kasha. Because both kingdoms hailed from different deserts, they displayed more interesting styles of coach and dress.

A day later, a lavish carriage rolled down the royal drive. Aramore had never been subtle about its wealth and the coach boasted all that the silver and gold rich kingdom represented. The king and queen descended onto the gold carpet with an air of boredom. Tyrn smiled wider than he had with any other royals and doted on the queen. The entire sight made me queasy, and I’d had to take a nap when it was finished.

Three days after that, the king of Heprin arrived. He was a squat older man with curled white hair, adorned with Heprin’s royal green and yellow. He had been widowed, so he arrived alone. This was the first I had ever seen him. I’d lived in the sanctuary of his country for eight years and yet it wasn’t until I returned to my own that we would meet.

The arrival of Heprin’s king meant only one sovereign remained en route. The queen from Blackthorne. At first, I stayed near my window, believing she would glide down the royal drive at any moment. That moment stretched into a day, then four.

Blackthorne was situated in the farthest corner of the realm, in the Ice Mountains north of the Serpent’s Sea. The smallest kingdom in the realm, Blackthorne had been a formidable force from the beginning thanks to a ruthless army and power-hungry monarchs. It could easily pose a threat to the rest of the realm.

I waited days for Ravanna Presydia’s arrival. But the Cold Queen must have appeared in the dead of night, for I never once heard her carriage approach.

In fact, it wasn’t until Matilda’s panicked entrance and orders to get ready that I realized finally, after three and a half weeks, I was to be seen.

I let Matilda dress me with all the care and consideration she was capable of. And when I stood to see myself and the gold gown she’d chosen, I couldn’t believe what she had accomplished.

I looked like a princess.

The skirt fit like a bell over my hips, swishing at my feet and expanding so that no one could stand close to me. The velvet bodice cinched at my waist while the sleeves flared in an excess of fabric at my wrists.

Matilda had fixed my hair away from my face, pulling my curls into a bun at my nape in the hopes that I would look more like my mother than ever. When I stared into the mirror, I couldn’t help but be in awe of her handiwork. I did, in fact, look just like my mother, the queen.

Now to feel like one.

I wished for Taelon. I wished that I could speak to him one last time. I wanted to hear him say that he believed me, that he knew I was who I said I was.

I wished for Oliver, too. I needed my friend. I needed him to remind me that I was not weak, that I had been trained for moments like these.

But I didn’t know if either would be allowed to attend the trial. In truth, I knew very little about Conandra, only what Hugo had warned before I left Soravale.

Just as Matilda placed one last pin to keep my hair from lashing out like snakes, Crenshaw pushed through the door. My heart fluttered as Matilda moved to greet him.

“We’ve come for the girl,” he announced gruffly.

Matilda turned to beckon me, but I was already there. I lifted my chin and met the guard’s cool glare. “And what if I turn out to be who I say I am?” I dared him. “Then what? How will you be punished for treating your queen in this way?”

His jaw ticked, but he did not say another word. Instead, he stepped back and waited for me to move into the hallway.

“Imposter,” he spat as I walked by him.

Guards surrounded me as soon as I was out of my room. I thought it was a bit excessive.

My fingers itched for my blade, but I’d left it in my room, under