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Back The Night and Its Moon
Chapters (64)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Contents
  6. Pronunciation Guide
  7. Prologue
  8. Part One
  9. One
  10. Two
  11. Three
  12. Four
  13. Five
  14. Six
  15. Seven
  16. Eight
  17. Nine
  18. Ten
  19. Eleven
  20. Twelve
  21. Thirteen
  22. Part Two
  23. Fourteen
  24. Fifteen
  25. Sixteen
  26. Seventeen
  27. Eighteen
  28. Nineteen
  29. Twenty
  30. Twenty-One
  31. Twenty-Two
  32. Twenty-Three
  33. Part Three
  34. Twenty-Four
  35. Twenty-Five
  36. Twenty-Six
  37. Twenty-Seven
  38. Twenty-Eight
  39. Twenty-Nine
  40. Thirty
  41. Thirty-One
  42. Thirty-Two
  43. Thirty-Three
  44. Thirty-Four
  45. Thirty-Five
  46. Part Four
  47. Thirty-Six
  48. Thirty-Seven
  49. Thirty-Eight
  50. Thirty-Nine
  51. Forty
  52. Forty-One
  53. Forty-Two
  54. Forty-Three
  55. Forty-Four
  56. Forty-Five
  57. Forty-Six
  58. Forty-Seven
  59. Epilogue
  60. Excerpt from The Sun and Its Shade
  61. The Night and Its Moon Playlist
  62. Acknowledgments
  63. About the Author
  64. Back Cover

It appeared that only Queen Moirai would be taking an audience with them, as the throne beside her sat empty. Amaris did her best not to move her head away from the queen, understanding enough of courtly propriety to know it to be improper. From their brief meeting in the hall, her friends also appeared to have been dressed as fashionably as she had and walked with as much stately reverence as they could muster. Ash and Malik flanked her, a man on each side keeping an arm’s length behind. Their flanking was meant to ensure that Amaris was showcased as their speaker, as she would likely be the only one with the opportunity to exchange words with the queen. When she spoke, she needed to make every word count.

The reevers reached the end of the rug, and all three knelt in an appropriate bow. Their lessons on poisons, monsters, and ways to be one’s own battle medic hadn’t exactly prepared them for decorum, but Amaris had had the fortune of being educated in such ways at Farleigh. Ash and Malik followed her lead, bowing their heads with their knees bent.

Moirai struck an intimidating figure at the end of the aisle. Dressed in a bloodred gown trimmed with gold along the collar and large, she looked like Farehold’s banner come to life. An ornate gold belt studded with rubies hugged her waist; it may have been lovely when she was younger, but given her advanced age, it seemed misplaced. Her crown was just another accessory in her collections of crimsons and golds. The gilded circlet rested atop the loose curls of her unpinned hair as she frowned at the reevers.

“Your majesty—” was meant to be said in unison, but Amaris distinctly heard both of her companions pluralize the word. It was an odd, jarring moment that Amaris almost tried to convince herself hadn’t happened. She kept her eyes lowered until the queen motioned for them to rise. Amaris scanned again to ensure she had not missed the crown prince. It was more likely that she had misheard her friends. She stilled her inner voice, focusing on the task at hand while Queen Moirai spoke.

“Why have you crossed the continent to call for an audience with us?” she asked. Moirai’s voice was not kind, nor was her cadence particularly beautiful. It was the robust, irked voice of a monarch who had better things to do than to entertain the league of guardians who were best left ignored.

This was Amaris’s moment. This was precisely what she had waited for throughout the weeks of travel. This was why Samael had looked at her that day in the reev and had known her persuasion was more gift than curse. Diplomacy came first, she told herself. First she would ask the queen, then she would tell.