And at Cassius’ command, the carts at the rear of the procession were unloaded at the base, their contents handed over the barrier and reloaded on empty ones to carry the belongs up the grade in order not to disturb the Bayzian tribute in honor to a lost queen.

The message had been made clear in Airen there was an Allied Gentry who would do its worst to maintain the status quo of the only land on Triton who clung to ideals that were not only outmoded, they were insufferable.

But the statement was also being strongly made, against them stood the New Airen Citizenry, and not only in Sky Bay.

And they had very different ideas.

132

The Introduction

Queen Silence

Sky Citadel, Sky Bay

AIREN

To say the mood was hushed as we all strode into the grand entryway of the Citadel after our ride through Sky Bay was an understatement.

Distractedly, I noted the plethora of coral-colored spiked gladiolus in a large vase atop a grand, gleaming round table sitting on a lovely carpet, all this under a daunting candelabrum in the middle of the space.

But mostly, I was stunned silent.

Everyone was.

Even Farah, who had never been to Sky Bay.

But clearly, she’d heard about it.

And it had profoundly changed.

I looked up to my husband to see he was studying the gladiolus and he did not appear staggered.

He looked in danger of bursting with laughter.

I opened my mouth to ask after what he found amusing but closed it when the humor swept clean from his face, he moved to stand closer to me, and his attention snapped to the stairwell.

I peeked around him and saw a woman appear at the top.

She lifted her long, full skirts that consisted of a swoop of material over the front that led to rosettes at the side of her nipped waist, a cascade of graceful falling ruffles at the sides and in the back, and a tightly fitted bodice. All of this a bright shade of tangerine (save the ruffles, which were a fade of peach to tangerine) with accents of black.

She was racing down the steps.

She did this crying, “Elena!”

“Who is that?” I whispered to Mars, watching as the woman made the bottom, dropped her skirts and dashed to Elena.

I also noted Cass’s man, Ian following her far more sedately.

“That is Domitia,” Mars murmured.

“King Gallienus’s last wife?” I asked.

“Mm,” Mars hummed his affirmative, his gaze closely watching the women across the room.

Thus, I did so too.

Elena broke the embrace Domitia threw herself into but only did so holding the woman’s hands out to their sides and demanding, “What are you wearing?”

Domitia’s face fell. “Do you hate it?”

“I adore it,” Elena replied.

Domitia’s expression brightened so much, her dress stopped blinding me and her smile took over.