“Over everything else?”
Lord Pippin’s eyes flicked back and forth between mine, resolute in his stance—and much colder than he had ever been before he was a royal. “Yes. It’s worth everything.”
For how long we stared at one another in the resulting silence, I couldn’t say. Time merely ticked by in an endless count that neither of us was willing to break.
One side of my lips curved up at the edges. “You’ve changed. It’s all in your eyes.”
His chuckle was quiet. “My reign as king wasn’t as long as some, but it kept me busy for a few hundred years. I’ve learned more than I ever dreamed possible. Experienced even more craziness.” His head of red hair tipped toward me. “As you may too if you become queen.”
I sat back on the bench and pointed at the book in his lap. “I gave you that.”
“I know. I was feeling sentimental, I suppose.”
I poked at the old tome. “I’m surprised it held up so well.”
“Well, I never really liked the damn storyline.” He snorted under his breath. “But you gave it to me, so I kept it.”
I leaned over and kissed his cheek softly. Then I stood up and brushed off my pants—there wasn’t a speck on them though. “It was good to see you again, Lord Pippin.”
“And you as well.” His brown eyes danced with a trickster amusement. “Try not to cause too much trouble while you’re still only a possible candidate. All right, Gwen? You don’t want to get kicked out before you even have a chance.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “I’ll try.”
Abruptly, it was an overlord staring into my gaze, all his previous humor gone in a blink. “Try real hard, Gwynnore. That’s your only warning from me.”
I swallowed on a dry throat. I whispered roughly, “Yes, you’ve definitely changed. Good day, Lord Pippin.” Then I turned and walked away, the man I had known no longer in existence.
*
I roamed the hallways, attempting to familiarize myself with the layout, and, even more so, trying to forget the man I once knew. Both would happen with time. That was all an immortal had… Time to change. Time to pass. Time to thrive in.
Still lost in my own thoughts, I found a small kitchen at the end of the royal area, the area secluded against all others living in the stronghold. My nose had inadvertently led me here, the smells divine pouring from the space. My stomach growled as I stepped into the adorable kitchen.
“Nope. Fuck no.” Lord Otto jammed a pointed finger at the entrance I had just come through. “You are not allowed in here. Not yet.”
I stopped in my tracks. “Oh.”
All of the overlords, minus a certain redhead, were sitting or standing around the kitchen, munching on some type of noodles with spicy sauce.
Again, my stomach growled. Louder.
Lord Xenon’s short black hair gleamed under the harsh lighting. With no inflection in his tone, he ordered, “Quit standing there like a lost puppy. Turn around. Leave. You do know how to do that, right?”
Lord Otto’s surfer looks, blond hair and blue eyes, were deceiving as he stood from his chair in growing agitation. He snapped his fingers in front of my face hard. “Hello, Gwynnore. Can you hear us?”
“Yes,” I mumbled.
“Then take a fucking walk out of our space.”
“Okay.” Still, I stood there for a moment too long.
Lord Belshazzar’s head tipped to the side as he swallowed a bite of his meal, his long black hair brushing over his left shoulder. He rested a hip against the counter. “Have you run into trouble already, Gwynnore?”
Lord Pippin’s words haunted my thoughts.
Trouble. I couldn’t cause trouble yet.
“Nope.” I quickly turned around and hurried to the door. But I stopped cold…when my father stood in my way. I peered up into his brown eyes. His black, straight hair just like mine, shining under the light, even if he kept his short and mine was long. I cleared my throat and spoke to my father for the first time in almost a thousand years, my voice the most chilling it had ever sounded, “I’m leaving, Lord Cato. If you would move to the side…”
He didn’t budge as he stood with his bowl off yummy food directly under my nose. “I think you’re lying. Your demeanor has completely changed since we last saw you. And not really for the better.”
My nostrils flared with fury.
I needed to leave before I said anything horrible.
I pivoted around him and quickly left.
As if he ever gave a damn about me.
Summoned. I’d been summoned.
It was now time.
I would know today if I was the Queen Novitiate.
Adelie rushed to ask, “Are you sure you don’t want me to grab a blood donor before you go? You could sip, and then meet the overlords.”
“I’m sure.” I bounced in place, shoving excess energy away. “If I go in there blood drunk, it wouldn’t help matters.” I had to play it cool until I was chosen as the candidate.
In the past day, since I arrived, the overlords had become a pain in my ass.
Dinner last night?
Oops. My food was burnt to a hard crisp.
Breakfast this morning?
Damn. The cook ran out.
Lunchtime fare?
What? What’s lunch? No one had heard of it.
Adelie was horrified—and embarrassed—too. She was treated the same as I was.
So I wouldn’t offend them anymore until I knew I was the one contender. I would respect them, as they should be respected. My ego was taking a backseat while my brain ran the show for the rest of the evening. A few hours wasn’t an issue. Growing up in my grandfather’s household, with elitists galore entering and exiting, I had learned how to play the game at a young age.
I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. One more minute before I needed to leave. My attention turned to my friend, and I asked for the hundredth time, “Am I dressed appropriately for this?”
The invitation clutched in her hand was wrinkled from her own nervous gestures, but she lifted it high into the air. “Again, it says casual attire for the possible candidates.”
I peered at myself in the mirror and ran my fingers through my black hair.
My new black leather jeans and simple black cashmere sweater was casual. The guns strapped to my legs weren’t, but I wouldn’t go anywhere without them. I was leaving my sword behind, locked tight in my closet. It was simple and warrior-chic, as I had always been.
My black boots…may have sparkly black laces, but I needed a little flash.
The guns in their holsters didn’t count.
My makeup was done with expert fingers—Adelie’s.
I either resembled a model gone crazy or a soldier gone soft.
I liked both of those instances.
I may overcompensate on my apparel at times. I knew this. I was only five foot two inches in height, and my shorter stature had always bothered me. Adelie was my only acquaintance who was shorter than I was, raking in a grand height of five foot nothing.
I ran my fingers through my hair once more. “Time to go.”
Adelie hugged me in a quick embrace. “You got this.”