The Ivory Rite

Chapter 11

I wake to the death knells on the morning of the Ivory Rite. Twelve of them, to call the kingdom together at high noon.

There's a thin sheen of sweat on my body, and I shiver. I'm filled with a familiar sense of dread, as these two days a year seem to come faster and faster.

Raina rushes to my side, already in my room to begin preparation for my appearance. Tonight Samhain will be my first close encounter with the citizens of Glace, but this afternoon holds a different promise—one of mass exposure. This is the first time I will be seen in a public venue. Almost the entire kingdom will be in attendance, as you need a special pardon to be excused from the Ivory Rite.

"Diem, are you alright?" Raina offers me a cool cloth for my forehead. Her use of my name makes me feel a little bit better. Like I'm not alone, somehow.

"Yes, thank you." I let out my breath all at once, pressing the cloth to my face.

"Nightmares?" she asks, fussing over the sheets, unsure of whether to cover me more or help me from the bed. I frown. She must be right, but I can't remember anything specific. I'm left only with a feeling of intense loss, and the faint memory of blood pouring out of a stone—lots of blood. Not surprising, considering what day it is.

There's a loud rap on the door and Raina moves to open it. Margret sweeps into the room, perfect as always.

"Still in bed, Diem?" She looks disgusted. "On today of all days. I really can't count on you for anything, can I?"

"The Rite doesn't begin until noon, Margret. I don't think there's cause for alarm just yet." My tone is dry.

"Queens are always prepared, Diem. You don't look prepared."

"And you aren't queen, so mind your business," I snap, my feet hitting the cold marble floor as I get out of bed. She gazes over at me for a moment, her eyes narrowed to tiny slits, making her look like a snake.

"You may think you can say whatever you like to me behind closed doors, and it's true I can't control that trash mouth of yours, but make no mistake. Your public words and actions will now have dire consequences." The sides of her colored lips turn up the tiniest bit. "I'm not queen today. Don't forget you're the only thing standing in my way."

"Your threats bore me, Margret." I roll my eyes. "If you'll excuse me, I have to get ready for this afternoon's barbaric display."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about, simple girl. A slip of your tongue in public about our most sacred religious ceremony being barbaric would be enough to undo you." A triumphant sound releases from the back of her throat as she moves to leave the room. "I may be queen, yet."

"It is barbaric." I say, crossing my arms over my chest. She looks back at me, disapproval creating new lines around her mouth.

"Make sure you're ready to leave on time," is all she says, making a theatric show of slamming the door behind her.

I flop back down on my bed, groaning.

"Raina, can we lock her out of here?" I ask, overly dramatic. She stifles a giggle.

"I should think not." She approaches me with the most ornate dress yet.

"Is that the heavy one?" I pout. She nods, wrinkling her nose.

"They'll notice you in the Theater, for sure. There are so many jewels. I wouldn't be surprised if the reflection causes a fire when the sun hits you."

"Something to look forward to," I say, covering my face with a pillow.

Today's process takes longer than usual. Eva joins us, and when she and Raina are through with the crucial parts of my disguise, more servants are called in to tend to my normal dressing.