•T W E N T Y - S I X•

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Céleste woke with a start from her nightmare. Eyes closed, she still saw the screaming fires raging in her mind, the black masks concealing blackened souls. She still heard the hoof-beats on rainy pavement and the echoing gunshots, the yelps crackling up into the navy night sky.

She jammed a hand to her torso, making sure she wasn't scorched, bleeding out, torn to pieces.

Once her heart semi-settled, she opened her eyes—and shrieked at the person hovering over her, a tumble of unkempt raven curls sloshing down her porcelain skin.

"Julia?"

There was no mistaking that azure gaze, inches from Céleste's face, lurking over her. She thrust the girl off her bed and groaned as she sat up.

"Do you have no notion of privacy? My God, you are insane. It is extremely rude to barge into a lady's rooms while she sleeps."

Julia backed off. "Usually, I would agree, but this is urgent."

"I swear if you have woken me to talk about your date—" Céleste glared at the clock and fought the urge to throw something at Julia. "Seven? By the heavens, what is that emergent?"

She kicked off her sweat-drenched blankets, trying to forget how seconds before, in her dream, she'd been stuck on a battlefield, caught between two warring countries.

Julia's enormous coat flooded the floors as she marched up to Céleste. "The King is here. King Antoine. He arrived early this morning with Denis... who missed our date, thanks to you, I am told. I spent all night worried sick that he no longer cared for me."

Céleste hurried to her feet and shoved the girl out of her way as she scuffled behind her shift.

"It was a matter of great importance. Where is the King?" She shed her nightwear, fastened her undergarments, and shrugged on the alabaster and violet number she'd picked out the night before. "Does he wish to see me?"

"In the stables." Julia's voice came from so close, Céleste feared she'd sneak around the changing panel and encourage her to dress faster. "Yes, he wants to see us. Denis woke me earlier than you, so do not complain to me. Hurry."

Céleste rolled on her stockings in record time, jumped into a pair of heeled slippers, slid on gloves, and retrieved a cloak from her closet. She imagined the air would be slick with frost, so she nestled the cloak's hood up to her neck and hastened after Julia.

Luckily, no nobles had risen. Everyone snuggled in the comforts of their rooms, enjoying their pretty dreams of money and success, basking in security and pricey possessions. Céleste sneered at the thought; she couldn't enjoy such luxuries when plagued by so many nightmares.

They poured out into the courtyard and swished through the dewy grass, Céleste concentrating on not tripping over her skirts or stepping into puddles, ignoring her rumbling belly and her fogginess.

The Golden Queen (#5 in the GOLDEN series) ✔Where stories live. Discover now