From Slave To Queen (Athena and Michael) novel Chapter 65

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I manage to wrap both in a soft hug, though I still see something in Naida’s face that worries me. She doesn’t smile, doesn’t speak, doesn’t seem like herself. I shift uncomfortably in my seat while Clarissa finishes her work and hands me off to Naida, who has already chosen a lovely dress. She helps me into the delicate lace underwear–nothing like what can be found in Ravag, at least not without a fortune. The dress is lavender, and its fabric flows so freely it feels like I’m wearing clouds.

She’s placing a necklace on my neck when I grab her wrist to get her attention.

“Are you okay, Naida?” I try to read her eyes. “If you need to talk about anything…”

She gives me a forced smile I don’t believe for a second.

“Don’t worry, I’m just tired.”

I know I won’t get anything else from her, so I stop insisting and let them finish dressing me. They leave with a final reminder to mind my manners in front of Cassian. I roll my eyes as soon as I’m alone.

It’s not long before I hear soft knocks, and Evanora’s braided head peeks in.

“Well, don’t you look stunning,” she says, stepping in.

“You too.”

Her hair is full of wavy strands and intricate braids. The black and gold dress she’s wearing creates a striking contrast with her pale skin and albino hair. Her snake rests on her arm like a bracelet and hisses happily at the sight of me.

“I really don’t want to go to this dinner,” she mutters.

“You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t want to get used to it,” she snaps. “Besides, you’re almost better–I doubt I’ll stay much longer.”

Besides our many antics, this week I’ve also gone back to drinking Naja’s brew. The first time made me vomit that awful black liquid again, though in smaller amounts. The second time, I only felt nauseous—nothing came out. A relief, honestly.

“As strange as it sounds, I think I’ll miss you.”

“Well, you can always come with me.” She winks.

I don’t answer. Before discomfort settles, she opens the door and steps out first. I follow, close it behind me, and walk the halls with her. As always, the guards open the doors to the great hall for us. Inside, a soft melody plays, just gentle enough not to interfere with conversation.

I’m surprised to see some of the faces at the table, like Narkissa, seated to Cassian’s left. Drystan sits on his right, as is his place. It’s him who gestures for me to take the seat beside him.

“Here’s my favorite human and her shrieking pet.” He smiles, flashing all his teeth–including the sharp ones.

“Says the expert in pets,” Evanora says loud enough for Drystan to hear.

I sit down, and that’s when I notice Drystan is wearing one of the shirts we ruined this afternoon. He wears it proudly, exposing much of his chest. My eyes drift involuntarily toward Cassian, who watches us with a raised eyebrow, as if waiting for an explanation. Beside him, Narkissa shoots me a venomous look and a crooked smile as she sips from her glass.

*Do I want to know why my right hand is wearing a shirt with a hole shaped like nothing less than a…?” He leaves the rest hanging in the air as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t you think it’s the latest trend?” Evanora quips.

“Without a doubt, liule witch. Thanks for making me look even cooler.”

*Maybe organizing this dinner wasn’t such a good idea. Clearly, they have no manners. They’re girls,” Narkissa says haughtily.

I narrow my eyes until they’re just slits and speak with utmost calm.

“What’s the reason for this dinner, if I may ask?”

Staff enters with our covered plates and goblets filled with thick, crimson liquid–for them. As if the blood they were drinking before wasn’t already first quality. I wonder who the feeders were that filled them. I glance at Drystan, curious. I’ve never seen his feeders–does he have any? Or does Cassian take care of him as his second?

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Chapter 65

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“The dinner is because Narkissa thought it would be a good idea for us to get to know our guest better,” Cassian replies.

An unpleasant weight presses on my chest when I hear him say her name and watch how she looks at him with infatuated eyes and silly fluttering lashes. Her sharp, red–painted nails rest on Cassian’s forearm as she strokes it seductively. He does nothing to stop her.

“I don’t know what you want to know about me—I thought my reputation preceded me,” Evanora says while cutting her steak into small pieces.

“I’m curious why you became a witch.”

“Well, I’m curious how a random Diluted ended up regularly riding that one over there.” She points at Cassian with her fork. “But unlike you, don’t ask indiscreet questions.”

I gape at the banshee, who wears a triumphant, pearly smile. Across the table, Drystan tries to stifle his laughter, pretending he choked.

I dare to look at Narkissa’s face, red with rage. Cassian, however, looks completely unbothered.

“Oh, and one more thing–I’m not a witch.”

Half–witch, I think.

With that, Evanora ends the conversation and puts a bite in her mouth. Drystan clears his throat.

How was the horseback ride the other day, Elara?”

“It wasn’t a ride,” Cassian says sharply.

“I don’t recall you having breasts and being called Elara,” I snap, turning to Drystan with a smile. “It could’ve been much nicer if the company hadn’t been so bad, but it was fine.”

“So I’m bad company…” Cassian swirls his goblet, light glinting off his rings. “That’s not how I remember it.”

“What do you remember, then?”

“Are you sure you want me to say it?”

I grip my utensils tightly until my knuckles turn white and lift my chin in a defiant gesture.

“Absolutely.”

“Very well,” he says calmly. “If I remember correctly-”

I’m spared from hearing his version when the great hall’s double doors burst open and a pale–skinned servant–clearly a Diluted–rushes in, slightly out of breath.

“Sir, there’s a carriage at the castle gates.”

“Tell them to turn around.”

“They say they were invited.”

“I didn’t invite anyone.” He falls silent for a tense, suffocating second. “Did they say who they are?”

The servant’s eyes fall on me, and I could almost swear he feels sorry before returning his gaze to his master,

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