The Edge of Dawn Read Online Free PDF

Narice realized she’d been holding her breath and that her heart was pumping. Taking in a deep breath she calmed herself and prayed nobody could see her shaking.
    At first, the woman didn’t say anything at all, spending the moment studying Narice as if measuring her for something. Seemingly satisfied she turned away and focused her golden eyes on Saint. “It is good to see you again, Mr. St. Martin.” Her voice radiated quiet power.
    He responded by bowing solemnly. “It’s good to see you again too, Majesty.”
    He’d removed the shades and Narice was mildly impressed by his show of respect.
    He then settled his green eyes on Narice. “May I present, Narice Jordan. She is the daughter of the Keeper.”
    The queen inclined her head. “Ms. Jordan. I was saddened to learn of your father’s death. My condolences.”
    Narice had no idea how this woman knew her father or why he was being referred to as the Keeper, but she responded genuinely, “Thank you.”
    â€œLet me also apologize for bringing you here under such mysterious circumstances. I’m sure you must be wondering what this is all about?”
    Narice didn’t lie. “Yes.”
    â€œWell, soon you will know all. For now, you are my guest. With your permission, my ladies will make you comfortable. I have some things I must discuss with Mr. St. Martin first and then you will join us. It will not be long.”
    Narice could see the old men assessing her. One man, the escort, had outright skepticism on his hawk-nosed face. Narice turned away from his burning gaze and refocused her attention on the woman in the chair. “Do I have a choice in any of this?”
    Although Narice couldn’t see beneath the veil, she sensed the woman smile. “Certainly you have a choice,” she said. “You can stay and be my guest, or opt to leave, in which case you will be killed.”
    Narice stiffened. Her eyes flew to Saint, but his were trained on The Majesty.
    The woman explained in a kind yet steel-edged voice, “We’re not playing a child’s game here, Ms. Jordan. The people who murdered your father are my enemies as well, and they will stop at nothing to attain their goals. If you leave here and fall into their hands, they can use you against me. If you are dead, they cannot.”
    It was if Narice had fallen down the rabbit hole and awakened in a North African version of Wonderland. On the throne sat the Red Queen, and Narice had the misfortune of being Alice. Narice had no idea what this knowledge The Majesty referred to consisted of, or the identities of the people responsible for her father’s death, but in order to find out, Narice needed to be alive. “Then I will be honored to be your guest.”
    The Majesty nodded. “I knew you had the mettle for this journey, Ms. Jordan, though some around me had their doubts.”
    The last few words were obviously a jab at someone because it set off a lot of tight jaws amongst the men in white, especially the escort with the hawk’s face. This is not a sister to be messed with, Narice thought.
    The Majesty clapped her hands and a young woman wrapped in emerald green robes appeared from behind the thin curtains. She bowed respectfully to The Majesty, who said in return, “Fulani, take Ms. Jordan and make her comfortable. I will call for her in time.” The Majesty spoke then to Narice. “You are in good hands.”
    Fulani, who appeared to be in her twenties, then turned and said to Narice. “Please follow me, Ms. Jordan.”
    Narice gave Saint a questioning look. He nodded almost imperceptibly, so she followed Fulani through the fluttering transparent draping and deeper into the suite.
    Once there, she was shown into a bedroom that had a large adjoining bath complete with an onyx Jacuzzi tub.
    Fulani said, “It is our custom to bathe before having an official audience with The Majesty, so I will draw