Quill of Thieves

Chapter 17

Elemental threads quivered around her, pulled so tautly by the tension in air that Astrid squeezed her eyes shut again.

"This must be my funeral."

Her head fell back against the wooden post of her bed. At some point in her restless night, she had knocked all the pillows onto the floor. Now, they lay scattered about the bear rug. Her favorite white, furred cloak even hung in a messy clump from the chandelier of torches that hung from the ceiling.

Astrid blamed the wind element for that one.

What minor control she had over the threads had been ruined to smithereens ever since Sebastian had messed with the Monverta. Throughout the night, the elements had clawed at her cuff, wound around every muscle and sinew in her body, begging to be used. To be called upon. Their voices had sounded like a grating whisper that clawed at her skin. She was sure that had been when the throwing of the pillows had started.

Curse you, fisherboy.

Quick, pounding footsteps reverberated above her head as the servants and guards jousted about. Astrid glanced at the light coming from beneath the heavy drapes of her window. Surely it was too early for so much noise. Heavy thuds like someone juggling iron pots and pans, though very poorly, she may add. Muffled voices, shouts, exclamations coming from the Halorian Square outside her window. She imagined the people awaking to find part of the fortress singed off in a heap of rubble.

Her mother was going to murder her.

Whatever had happened last night certainly hadn't been in their plans.

Astrid swore again and had just opted to jump out her window when her doors swung open.

She scrambled upright, pulling her duvet to her chest as Matthias forced his way into her rooms. And he truly did have to force his entry. Her wardrobe blocked part of the doorway. Astrid couldn't quite recall when she had done that.

"Didn't you think of announcing yourself first, Captain?"

His gaze was dark and sharp when they fell upon her undoubtedly exhausted and ashy demeanor. She hadn't even bathed after she and Sebastian had blown up the keep. Matthias scowled at the scrape across her cheek.

"Her Majesty has requested your presence on the precipice balcony."

Astrid's intestines clenched and twisted. She didn't have to see Matthias's stiff expression to realize that an official summons to the precipice balcony would not be at all good. Not for her, anyways. Queen Davina only ever graced the highest balcony of the fortress to project royal proclamations to the Halorian people. The last one had been when her mother had mandated a curfew five years previously when Soleitian terrorists had breached Rainier's coastline.

It would mean more rules. Restrictions. Laws to further protect Davina's kingdom from falling apart. It could decimate the meager freedom Astrid was allowed. Which meant something had made her mother furious.

She had a suspicious inkling as to what it had been.

"This is about last night, isn't it?"

Matthias's jaw clenched, the muscles of his throat flexing in quick succession. He was keeping something from her, that much was obvious, but she wasn't about to beg him to tell her.

"Of course it is," she muttered to herself. "I suppose I should wear something appropriate for facing one's executioner."

"Astrid." His tight eyes roamed over her dressing gown with a pointed look. "The queen requests your presence. Now."

Astrid frowned at him but scrambled to recover her gear she'd shucked off the day before. Her cloak was the most difficult to untangle from the chandelier. Matthias made an impatient sound, as if her messy room personally offended him, and he stalked to the doors, one hand already on the handle.