~Waverly~
The moment the heavy palace doors groaned shut behind Kaeren, the silence he left in his wake felt like a death sentence. I stood on the marble steps, my fingers trembling so violently I had to bury them in the folds of my ash-grey silk.
"He hates us," Pia whispered, her voice uncharacteristically small. "And the worst part is, we can't even blame him. Look at the carnage, Waverly. Look at what they're doing to your life."
I looked.
At the bottom of the steps, the circus was in full swing. Drodd was actually trying to pry a loose piece of ornamental stone from a balustrade, while Imogen was practicing her "royal wave" to a pair of bewildered guards who looked like they wanted to use their pikes.
When Lynn and Sloane had cornered me earlier, their words had been like poisoned needles, puncturing every bit of confidence I'd tried to build. I had been certain that the game was up… that the "Spanish Royalty" lie was going to dissolve right there on the gravel.
