The Impostor Queen (The Impostor Queen, #1)

There’s a crash behind me, and Mim grabs my shoulders. “Come inside!” she shouts over the gale.

I tear myself away from her. “Not a chance.” My voice is full of laughter. “Look, Mim! How could anyone be scared when their queen can do that?”

She wraps her arms around my waist like she’s afraid I’ll be blown away. Tendrils of my hair, torn loose from my braids by the fierce wind, tangle with her brown curls. Her cheek presses to mine. “No one should ever doubt the power of the Valtia,” she says in my ear. “I’m sorry that my fear got the best of me. Forgive me?”

“Always,” I say, turning my head and kissing her rain-speckled cheek. I’ve never been this happy, this full of ferocious, throbbing certainty. “Someday, Mim, that will be me.”

She squeezes me tightly. “Someday it will be you. And I’ll be so proud to be your handmaiden.”

My hands fold over hers, holding them against my body. I wish I had fire magic to warm her, but even as I think it, I feel my temperature rising, along with a delicious tingling along my skin. She starts to pull away, but I tighten my grip. “No,” I whisper. “Stay right here.”

“But Elli—”

“Please. Don’t move.” It feels so good. My blood is pounding in my ears, and Mim’s arms are perfect right where they are.

She obeys me. She must, because she is my handmaiden, and suddenly a tiny part of me feels guilty, because I’m not sure if she likes it quite as much as I do. I stare at the storm, wanting things I cannot have. That I should not have. I clear my throat and let go of her hands. She squeezes me and pulls away, but stays next to me, watching the massive swells, the blinding flashes of light, the billowing clouds.

After an hour or so, the storm quiets abruptly, folding in on itself like a scroll. I squint into the distance, but all that lies in front of me is foggy darkness.

“The Soturi must be at the bottom of our Motherlake,” says Mim. “Now will you come inside?” When I shake my head, she gives me an exasperated smile and puts her hands on her round hips, and I am relieved that she seems to have forgiven me for wanting to be too close to her. “Don’t you want to wash up before she comes back—or do you prefer to greet her looking like a drowned ferret?”

“In no way do I resemble a ferret.” I giggle as I swipe my hands across my wet cheeks. As much as I’d like to stand here and wait for the Valtia’s boat to come sailing into port, I spend the next hour inside, reliving the storm, my chest buzzing and thrumming while Mim dries my skin and changes my clothes, draping me in a flowing gown of soft red wool. She undoes all my braids, brushes my hair, and plaits it once more. She lays her palms on my cheeks when she’s finished. “Now you look like a princess.”

Fresh and clean, I go back out to the balcony. Sure enough, guttering torches moving across the water mark three ships returning to our docks. I bounce on my toes. “Mim, are they preparing our meal? I want it to be ready when she reaches us. She’ll probably be starving.”

“I’ll go check,” she says, and leaves me alone to watch the sailing vessels glide into the harbor.

I pace my balcony. I can’t wait to ask my Valtia what it was like, if she actually saw the Soturi being tossed by her storm, if the sailors around her were frightened or steadfast as she made the gale rage around them. Those are but a few of the questions I have for her.

Somewhere out in the city, a horn sounds. Its eerie call steadily grows louder as the minutes pass. Finally, just as I’m wondering when Mim will return, she bursts through the doorway.

Her face is pasty pale, like she’s painted her own skin with white lead. “Your sedan chair is being brought now,” she says, her voice quavering.

I frown as I step forward. “What’s wrong?” Alarm clangs in my head, louder than that stupid horn, which is still blaring. “Did some of the Soturi ships make it through?”

She shakes her head. Her mouth twists into the saddest smile I’ve ever seen. “No, Saadella. By all accounts, the Valtia dealt them a devastating defeat.”

I sag with relief. “Then why the long face? Were some of the sailors hurt?”

She comes forward and takes me by the arms. “Elli,” she whispers. “You have to come now. You’ve been summoned.”

“Of course,” I say.

“By the elders,” she adds.

I pause, the oddest feeling stirring inside me, like a beast awakening from its winter sleep. “Mim.” It comes out in a snap, and my handmaiden flinches. “Where’s the Valtia?”

“She’s being brought to her quarters now.” Mim pulls me into an embrace, close enough to feel her shudder. “But they’re saying she won’t live out the night.”





CHAPTER 4