dog with a pushed-in face cradled on her lap.
The Queen was beautiful, with glossy blond hair in a perfect coiffure, her delicate features cold and lovely. But there was also something a little odd about her face. Her irises seemed a little too blue, her hair too yellow, her skin too smooth. I wondered just how much work Genya had done on her.
She was surrounded by ladies in exquisite gowns of petal pink and soft blue, their low necklines embroidered with gilded thread and tiny riverpearls. And yet, they all paled beside Genya in her simple cream wool kefta , her bright red hair burning like a flame.
“ Moya tsaritsa ,” Genya said, sinking into a low, graceful curtsy. “The Sun Summoner.”
This time, I had to make a choice. I executed a small bow and heard a few low titters from the ladies.
“Charming,” said the Queen. “I loathe pretense.” It took all my willpower not to snort at this. “You are from a Grisha family?” she asked.
I glanced nervously at Genya, who nodded encouragement.
“No,” I said, and then quickly added, “ moya tsaritsa .”
“A peasant then?”
I nodded.
“We are so lucky in our people,” the Queen said, and the ladies murmured soft assent. “Your family must be notified of your new status. Genya will send a messenger.”
Genya nodded and gave another little curtsy. I thought about just nodding right along with her, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to start lying to royalty.
“Actually, your highness, I was raised in Duke Keramsov’s household.”
The ladies buzzed in surprise, and even Genya looked curious.
“An orphan!” exclaimed the Queen, sounding delighted. “How marvelous!”
I wasn’t sure that I would describe my parents being dead as “marvelous,” but at a loss for anything else to say, I mumbled, “Thank you, moya tsaritsa. ”
“This all must seem so very strange to you. Take care that life at court does not corrupt you the way it has others,” she said, her blue marble eyes sliding to Genya. The insult was unmistakeable, but Genya’s expression betrayed nothing, a fact which did not seem to please the Queen. She dismissed us with a flick of her ring-laden fingers. “Go now.”
As Genya led me back into the hallway, I thought I heard her mutter, “Old cow.” But before I could decide whether or not to ask her about what the Queen had said, the Darkling was there, steering us down an empty corridor.
“How did you fare with the Queen?” he asked.
“I have no idea,” I said honestly. “Everything she said was perfectly nice, but the whole time she was looking at me as if I were something her dog spit up.”
Genya laughed, and the Darkling’s lips quirked in what was nearly a smile.
“Welcome to court,” he said.
“I’m not sure I like it.”
“No one does,” he admitted. “But we all make a good show of it.”
“The King seemed pleased,” I offered.
“The King is a child.”
My mouth fell open in shock and I looked around nervously, afraid someone had overheard. These people seemed to speak treason as easily as breathing. Genya didn’t look remotely disturbed by the Darkling’s words.
The Darkling must have noticed my discomfort, because he said, “But today, you’ve made him a very happy child.”
“Who was that bearded man with the King?” I asked, eager to change the subject.
“The Apparat?”
“Is he a priest?”
“Of a sort. Some say he’s a fanatic. Others say he’s a fraud.”
“And you?”
“I say he has his uses.” The Darkling turned to Genya. “I think we’ve asked enough of Alina for today,” he said. “Take her back to her chambers and have her fitted for her kefta . She will start instruction tomorrow.”
Genya gave a little bow and laid her hand on my arm to lead me away. I was overcome by excitement and relief. My power ( my power, it still didn’t seem real) had shown up again and kept me from making a fool of myself. I’d made it through my introduction to the King and my
The Queen was beautiful, with glossy blond hair in a perfect coiffure, her delicate features cold and lovely. But there was also something a little odd about her face. Her irises seemed a little too blue, her hair too yellow, her skin too smooth. I wondered just how much work Genya had done on her.
She was surrounded by ladies in exquisite gowns of petal pink and soft blue, their low necklines embroidered with gilded thread and tiny riverpearls. And yet, they all paled beside Genya in her simple cream wool kefta , her bright red hair burning like a flame.
“ Moya tsaritsa ,” Genya said, sinking into a low, graceful curtsy. “The Sun Summoner.”
This time, I had to make a choice. I executed a small bow and heard a few low titters from the ladies.
“Charming,” said the Queen. “I loathe pretense.” It took all my willpower not to snort at this. “You are from a Grisha family?” she asked.
I glanced nervously at Genya, who nodded encouragement.
“No,” I said, and then quickly added, “ moya tsaritsa .”
“A peasant then?”
I nodded.
“We are so lucky in our people,” the Queen said, and the ladies murmured soft assent. “Your family must be notified of your new status. Genya will send a messenger.”
Genya nodded and gave another little curtsy. I thought about just nodding right along with her, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to start lying to royalty.
“Actually, your highness, I was raised in Duke Keramsov’s household.”
The ladies buzzed in surprise, and even Genya looked curious.
“An orphan!” exclaimed the Queen, sounding delighted. “How marvelous!”
I wasn’t sure that I would describe my parents being dead as “marvelous,” but at a loss for anything else to say, I mumbled, “Thank you, moya tsaritsa. ”
“This all must seem so very strange to you. Take care that life at court does not corrupt you the way it has others,” she said, her blue marble eyes sliding to Genya. The insult was unmistakeable, but Genya’s expression betrayed nothing, a fact which did not seem to please the Queen. She dismissed us with a flick of her ring-laden fingers. “Go now.”
As Genya led me back into the hallway, I thought I heard her mutter, “Old cow.” But before I could decide whether or not to ask her about what the Queen had said, the Darkling was there, steering us down an empty corridor.
“How did you fare with the Queen?” he asked.
“I have no idea,” I said honestly. “Everything she said was perfectly nice, but the whole time she was looking at me as if I were something her dog spit up.”
Genya laughed, and the Darkling’s lips quirked in what was nearly a smile.
“Welcome to court,” he said.
“I’m not sure I like it.”
“No one does,” he admitted. “But we all make a good show of it.”
“The King seemed pleased,” I offered.
“The King is a child.”
My mouth fell open in shock and I looked around nervously, afraid someone had overheard. These people seemed to speak treason as easily as breathing. Genya didn’t look remotely disturbed by the Darkling’s words.
The Darkling must have noticed my discomfort, because he said, “But today, you’ve made him a very happy child.”
“Who was that bearded man with the King?” I asked, eager to change the subject.
“The Apparat?”
“Is he a priest?”
“Of a sort. Some say he’s a fanatic. Others say he’s a fraud.”
“And you?”
“I say he has his uses.” The Darkling turned to Genya. “I think we’ve asked enough of Alina for today,” he said. “Take her back to her chambers and have her fitted for her kefta . She will start instruction tomorrow.”
Genya gave a little bow and laid her hand on my arm to lead me away. I was overcome by excitement and relief. My power ( my power, it still didn’t seem real) had shown up again and kept me from making a fool of myself. I’d made it through my introduction to the King and my
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