The Indigo Spell by Richelle Mead Read Free Book Online Page A

scurrying in. I groaned
     at the same time Stanton tsked with disapproval. Abe Mazur had just arrived.
    Whereas Adrian had made color work with formal wear in a stylish way, Abe used color
     to offend the sensibilities. To be fair, this was one of the more subdued ensembles
     I’d ever seen Abe don: a white suit with a bright, kiwi green shirt and paisley ascot.
     He wore his usual gold earrings, and the sheen of his black hair made me think he’d
     been hitting some hair oil pretty voraciously. Abe was a dubiously moral Moroi and
     also the father of my friend—and Adrian’s former dhampir love—Rose Hathaway. Abe made
     me nervous because I’d had some secret dealings with him in the past. He made Stanton
     nervous because he was a Moroi the Alchemists would never be able to control. Abe
     seated himself in the front row, earning a horrified look from Colleen the coordinator,
     who was supervising everything from the side of the room. My guess was that wasn’t
     part of her seating chart.
    I heard a trumpet sound, and those sitting in the back suddenly fell to their knees.
     Like a wave, those seated in the rest of the rows began following suit. Stanton, Ian,
     and I all exchanged confused looks. Then I understood.
    “The queen,” I whispered. “The queen is coming.”
    I could see from Stanton’s face that was not something she had considered. She had
     a split second to decide on protocol for this situation and how to maintain our “civilized”
     guest status.
    “We don’t kneel,” she whispered back. “Stay where you are.”
    It was a valid call, seeing as we owed no fealty to the Moroi queen. Still, I felt
     flustered and conspicuous at being one of the only people in the room not kneeling.
     A moment later, a ringing voice declared, “Her Royal Majesty, Queen Vasilisa, first
     of her name.”
    Even Ian caught his breath in admiration as she entered. Vasilisa—or Lissa, as Adrian
     and Rose continually insisted I call her—was a picture of ethereal beauty. It was
     hard to believe she was the same age as me. She carried herself with a poise and regality
     that seemed ageless. Her tall, willowy body was graceful even among Moroi, and her
     platinum blond hair fell around her pale face like some otherworldly veil. Although
     dressed in a very modern lavender cocktail dress, she managed to wear it as though
     it were some grand Victorian ball gown. A black-haired guy with piercing blue eyes
     walked at her side. Her boyfriend, Christian Ozera, was always easy to spot, providing
     a dark contrast that worked perfectly with her lightness.
    Once the royal couple was seated in the front row—seeming very surprised to find Abe
     waiting for them there—the throng returned to their seats. An unseen cellist began
     to play, and everyone released a collective breath as we fell into the comfortable
     ritual of a wedding.
    “Amazing, isn’t it?” Ian murmured in my ear. “How fragile her throne is. One slip,
     and they’d fall into chaos.”
    It was true, and it was why Jill’s safety was so important. An old Moroi law said
     that a monarch had to possess one living family member in order to hold the throne.
     Jill was the only one left in Lissa’s line. Those who opposed Lissa because of her
     age and beliefs had realized killing Jill would be easier than going after a queen.
     Many opposed the law and were trying to change it. In the meantime, the political
     fallout from Jill’s assassination would be monumental. The Alchemists, whose job it
     was to keep the Moroi world hidden and protected , needed to prevent their society
     from falling into chaos. And on a slightly more personal level, I needed to prevent
     Jill’s death because against all odds, I’d grown to care about her in the short time
     we’d been together.
    I shifted my mind from those grim thoughts and focused on the next stage of the wedding.
     Bridesmaids in deep green satin led the procession, and I wondered if Abe had been