Crest (Ondine Quartet Book 3) (22 page)

Cam let out a weary sigh then settled with the other elites in a cluster of chairs near the grand staircase.

Renee crossed her arms. "What is it?"

"My tripod is always in its case to protect it from getting scratched. The case is missing."

I vaguely remembered it. She'd loaded most of her camera equipment into a box in New York. Like the rest of us, the Bessettes had sent most of their things ahead to the Selkie Kingdom.

Renee frowned. "Who would want to take your case?"

I shrugged. "Airport security probably did a check somewhere and screwed up. It's probably mixed in with other people's things. It'll show up eventually."

"Maybe someone just wanted to carry around their golf clubs," Renee muttered.

Helene gave her the side-eye. Hard.

A selkie female arrived, offering to show the sisters to their room. Renee quickly gathered up her things and followed. Helene struggled to balance her luggage. She had too many bags of video equipment.

"Need some help?"

"No," she snapped.

Fine.

I wandered over to the large room stretching off the main entrance.

Good God. Peach taffeta had vomited all over it.

The color clashed terribly with the wood furniture and white stone walls.

Selkies hurriedly set up chairs and decorations while an overbearing older selkie female with greying hair directed the action.

Suppressing a shudder, I retreated back to the entry hall.

A group of selkie guys walked past. They looked around fourteen or fifteen, but were probably older. Selkies lived longer and aged slower than elementals.

Rowdy air and clear
pedaillons
identified them as gardinel trainees.

All non-gardinel selkies wore white diamond
pedaillons
. Since diamonds were the hardest stone on the planet, it provided a measure of protection for the most vulnerable among them.

Posture and position defined the male up front as the group leader. Like the others, he was all lean, hard muscles. But dark blonde hair and dark eyes framed by a rich fringe of lashes gave him an almost pretty boy look.

"So much fuss over a tripod case," he remarked. The other selkies laughed.

A rose-colored flush stained Helene's cheeks. I wasn't sure if she was upset over the comment or because she was suddenly the focus of a group of boys.

Blondie's eyes twinkled and I relaxed slightly. He was teasing.

Helene tilted her chin up. "What's it to you?"

"Nothing." Mild surprise flitted across his face. "Hey, maybe I can help you find —"

"I don't need your help." Helene shoved everything into her bag, hefted it onto her back, and followed after Renee.

Blondie watched her for a few moments, his brow furrowed. When he turned, his eyes caught mine and I caught a brief flash of recognition.

Something about the cut of his jaw seemed familiar, but I couldn't place it.

Ice carved into his expression and without another word he walked away with his friends.

I sighed. Looked like my fan club extended far north.

"
Sondaleur
?"

A petite selkie female stood next to me. "Please follow me to your room."

We took the ornate staircase up one flight. Another.

Muscles quivered and I realized I'd be very happy if I never had to climb another set of stairs for the rest of my life.

She pushed open large mahogany doors at the very end of the third floor corridor. Mahogany furnishings and rich red and gold colors accented my room.

Gauzy drapes drifted over a set of large windows. I peeked out, taking in the magnificent view of the sun dipping toward the horizon.

"Oh! It looks like someone brought you a welcome gift."

Her chirpy comment sent a shiver down my spine.

I knew before I turned what had followed me here.

A purple iris rested in the center of the bed, its perfection marred only by a single drop of black blood.

"DID YOU TELL RHIAN OR Jeeves?"

Aubrey and Chloe sat on my bed, studying the flower on my nightstand like it was infected tissue.

I dabbed on a little more lipgloss. "Not yet."

We weren't on our turf and I needed time to feel things out. Discussing it with Julian first might also generate a few ideas on how to smoke out the traitor. I wanted to have possibilities in place before approaching the others.

Satisfied, I smoothed the silk blouse over my pants. The elegant all-black ensemble made it easy to blend in. Perfect for tonight's objective.

Chloe leaned back on the pillows. She reached out, fingers brushing the air.

"The magic here is incredible."

An ancient quality imbued the energy, something far older than an ondine's Virtue or elemental magic.

Aub pulled out the map every guest received upon arrival. The detailed drawing clearly marked the boundaries of the wards and kingdom.

The palace remained at the center of a circular region covering dozens of miles over land and sea. Close to fourteen thousand selkies resided here, some in the palace, others in houses scattered throughout the territory.

"Cloaking conceals the kingdom," Aubrey murmured. "I overheard Marquisa Desmarais talking about it."

"Why?" Chloe frowned. "There's no one here."

The area teemed with wildlife but other than the occasional intrepid explorer, humans rarely came this way.

"NASA photos," Aubrey said like that cleared everything. "Heard Prince Belicoux doubled up on the wards."

"Ewan said that's when they added in the weather spell, too." I paused. "Hey, did you notice something strange from the plane about the landscape? It didn't seem to fit with the area."

"I know," Aubrey said. "I asked Garreth about it. He said selkies didn't train inside like chevaliers."

I put down my hair brush. "What do you mean?"

"They train outside and use nature as their gym. So magic created different terrains within their kingdom. It allows them to deal with any type of situation."

Realization dawned. "That's why they have mountains, rivers, forests, jungles −"

"Tundras, deserts, and arctic conditions." She raised her brow. "Cool, right?"

Yeah. It also meant the cliff stairs were just the beginning of what the elites would be put through.

I remembered Ewan's smug expression and my muscles twitched.

Chloe stood and straightened her skirt. "Did you start your project for Prince Belicoux?"

Aubrey nodded, eyes dreamy. "The amount of knowledge in the palace library is incredible. I read a few pages while inputting preliminary data. Stories and legends we've never heard of and —"

She finally noticed our glazed expressions.

"Anyway, it's amazing," she muttered. "Ian got so into it I couldn't pry him away. I should check on him."

"And I need to deal with Norman." Chloe sighed. "He wants me to help with the Italian delegation even though I don't speak a single word of their language."

They left and I spent another few minutes getting ready. Tonight's welcome reception assembled all conference delegates in one location at the same time.

Passing up the opportunity to investigate would be foolish.

I gently released my Virtue and studied my expression in the mirror.

Maybe the slightest hint of a flicker in my eyes. Not bad. Certainly better than it was in New York.

A royal note arrived earlier this evening stating that the reception had been moved outdoors to take advantage of the beautiful evening.

I suspected peach taffeta had more to do with the decision than the weather.

Strewn stars glittered against the midnight sky, a rich garland of jewels decorating the somber moon.

Selkies carried trays of drinks and food to the delegates mingling on the gentle slope outside the palace.

Laughter and the clink of glasses fluttered through the mild air. Rapid staccato of Italian, the quiet lyricism of Japanese, and the rhythmic articulation of the Nordic languages harmonized into a rich symphony of textured conversations.

Staying in the shadows, I circled the party's perimeter.

As long as you kept moving, people assumed you were heading somewhere and left you alone. It was a trick that often came in handy in New York.

Empath swept through the crowd.

I wasn't sure what I was searching for and it'd be difficult to determine meaning without context.

But instincts told me I'd know when I sensed it.

Waves of emotions rolled against my skin. Random spurts of petty jealousy, insecurity, irritation, pleasure.

Magic grazed a thread of boredom. The young blonde selkie who'd spoken to Helene.

He tensed as if sensing my touch. Alert eyes scanned the area.

I quickly grabbed a champagne glass off a tray and turned the opposite direction. Too close.

A few delegates sent curious looks my way. I pasted an empty smile on my face and forced myself to walk slowly. The last thing I needed was extra attention.

Magic caught wariness and concern a few seconds before a silver head of hair crossed in front of me. Jeeves caught my eye and gave a slight bow.

Smiling, I slipped behind a group of Russians.

And then I sensed it.

Hardened emotion stabbed my insides and I flinched.

This wasn't strong dislike or explosive anger. This was pure hatred, the kind of poison that festered and strengthened as time went on.

Eyes scoured the crowd.

Where are you?
 

The thread blinked out.

Swearing under my breath, I moved toward the palace steps. Maybe the height advantage could help.

Hundreds of people spread out before me. Picking through all those emotions to find one was like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack.

Damn it.

"Kendra."
 

I restrained my groan just in time. "Your Majesty."

King Belicoux took up the entire entrance. Broad shoulders accentuated a massive body built of solid muscle. Short dark hair, liberally streaked with grey, and a pewter colored
pedaillon
added to his aura of ferocity.

He shared an uncanny resemblance to his son in the cut of his jaw and the sharp, high cheekbones. But where Tristan radiated carefully controlled strength, Ancelin Belicoux exuded brawn and uncompromising authority.

Dark eyes warily regarded me. "Congratulations on becoming Governor-elect."

Ah. Unsure of what to expect from the person he'd soon be forced to work with.

I managed a smile. "Nothing to congratulate, Your Majesty."

"You don't think becoming a leader is a great privilege?"

"Yes, I do." I had to watch my words around him. "But congratulating me makes it sounds as though I competed against something and won. I didn't."

"A reluctant leader." He raised his brow. "You're starting to sound like my son."

Temper flared.
Careful
.

"I consider that a great compliment."

"You shouldn't," he said abruptly. "My son has never understood what a leader's role is."

You can't hit the King. You can't hit the King...

I kept my voice light. "Actually, Your Majesty, your son is very well-respected for just that. He's demonstrated the sacrifices he's willing to make for elementals."

The King's eyes hardened. "You speak as if you know my son better than me."

Warning bells went off in my head. Before I could answer, a smooth voice interrupted.

"Father."

"Dax." King Belicoux addressed the blonde selkie I'd seen around all day. "I want you to meet a special guest, Kendra Irisavie."

I suppressed a sigh. Of course, he was Tristan's brother.

This night was just getting better and better.

"A pleasure." Dax's accent was less pronounced than his father's.

He bowed, oozing polite charm. Up close, the resemblance was clear. Sharp lines, handsome features, and bronzed skin. Even the dark espresso-colored eyes were the same.

But Dax's eyes also held tiny flecks of grey and reflected wariness.

The entire Belicoux family, with the exception of Tristan, apparently didn't think much of me.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Father," he continued. "But the Spanish delegates wished to speak to you about tomorrow's schedule — "

Ancelin made an irritated sound. "Tell them I'll be right with them."

Dax took off, his blonde hair and tall form easy to follow under the moonlight.

"He's a good boy," Ancelin said gruffly.

"So is Tristan."

He turned to me. "You're too young to be Governor."

And here we go. "Rhian was the same age when she took office."

"You're not Rhian."

"I know." I met his gaze levelly. "I bring other things to the table."

"My son believes you're the
sondaleur
."

I didn't answer.

"You're the orphaned daughter of his friend." A hard edge entered his tone. "I have always cautioned him that his kindness was a fatal weakness. His faith in you is simply misguided affection. I hope you haven't believed any different."

I forced my mouth to work. "Of course not."

"Good." He walked down the steps. "His duties for the throne are of primary importance."

I exhaled, hands shaking with the effort to control my temper. So King Bully believed I was Tristan's charity of the week.

His faith in you is simply misguided affection.

The words deepened a doubt that never quite went away. More and more, I realized how big the distance was between how I saw myself and how others viewed me.

Rhian viewed me as political successor. My mother molded me into a warrior. Ancelin saw a young schoolgirl.

I believed Julian saw me as
sondaleur
, but after the Council session I now knew differently.

You're just another ondine he has to protect.

Tristan always believed in me, trusted me. But what if his father and Julian were right? What if that faith only existed because he felt an obligation to protect me? Because he saw me in a certain way?

"An improvement over the peach taffeta, don't you think?" a voice said.