The music comes to an end, and the swaying bodies on the dance floor stop to clap for the musicians.
… hideous.
Yes, tragic.
She must have cast a spell on him.
As much as I’ve tried to tune out the snide comments, I can’t. They’re not even trying to be quiet about it. Maybe that’s why Kirian’s in such a bad mood. His people are acting like obnoxious children.
At least Kirian’s family has been nice. Whenever he’s gotten pulled into ‘kingdom talk’ with his father or other council members, Zella’s drawn me into conversations filled with pleasantries about the food, saving me from standing there all silent and awkward.
If there’s one subject I can discuss for long periods of time, it’s dessert. Apparently, the butterscotch pudding is a recipe Kirian insisted the cooks create when he was fourteen. I couldn’t help smiling when she told me that. He must’ve done it after the first pudding cups we shared together.
Even Gia’s been making an effort to be kind—or at least repay her debt. She let me drink juice from her favorite enchanted goblet. It was a birthday gift from the same wizard who gave Kirian his portals. All I had to do was think about the flavor I wanted while holding it, and the liquid inside would match whatever I wanted to taste.
If it weren’t for all the judgmental fae surrounding us, tonight would’ve been one of the best nights of my life.
In my wildest dreams, I couldn’t have cooked up a room as beautiful as this one.
It’s light, airy, and dripping with elegance. The second-story balcony goes all the way around the oval shape. Round pillars made from marble with gold swirls hold it up. There are three chandeliers overhead, and the stardust lights flicker through hundreds of dangling crystals.
There’s a mural on the ceiling, and it reminds me of the Sistine Chapel. Except this scene depicts a bloody battle. I see Kirian among the animated soldiers, axe in hand, his hair flying wildly around his handsome face.
Windows line the entire perimeter of the second level. Down here on the first floor, French doors are open to the night. We haven’t gone out there, but I spied a balcony overlooking a garden.
I want to see it.
I’m about to ask Kirian if I can go take a look when he turns away from me and holds a silencing hand up to the crowd of still-gawking fae. A pair of girls about my age giggle behind their hands as they stare at my face.
Shifting closer to Kirian, I let my gaze fall to the floor.
I wonder if their assessment of my physical appearance is making him have second thoughts. If I were a king, I’d value the opinion of my subjects.
Kirian’s warm fingers trail down my spine before his palm flattens over my bare skin. A sudden hot flash ripples through my body, while goose bumps spread over my arms.
One thing I didn’t notice about the dress when it was on the hanger is how low it dips in the back. All the fae dresses are designed this way, and it’s not just a fashion statement. It’s for wings. Wings I don’t have. At least the skin on my back is something to be proud of. It’s smooth, creamy, and unblemished. Not even one mole.
“Thank you all for coming tonight.” Kirian’s booming voice echoes off the walls. “I expect I can count on your allegiance to Quinn. An enemy of hers is an enemy of mine, and my enemies won’t live to regret their betrayal. It’s been a long time since we’ve held a public execution here, but you all know the punishment for treason.”
His stern warning earns worried expressions and obligated murmurs of loyalty.
Well, I guess we’re not ending the evening on a happy note.
Without another word, Kirian takes my hand and walks me to one of the exits. I’m not sure if I should wave or bow or say goodbye, but I don’t get the chance before we’re walking down a stone hallway.
This castle is like a maze. There are so many doors, staircases, and secret rooms. It makes me feel disoriented.
It doesn’t help that it’s always nighttime here. I have no idea what time it is or how many hours have passed since Kirian dragged me through the portal.
However, I do know that I’m tired.
I yawn, and Kirian gives my hand a squeeze.
“These events can be draining. Fortunately, they don’t happen very often.” He seems a little more at ease now, but there’s still a stiffness in his shoulders.
“Now that we’re alone, are you going to tell me who put the stick up your ass?”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “I just want you to be safe.”
“Am I not safe?”
“I want everyone to respect you,” he says, avoiding my question. “Or else.”
“Or else,” I mutter deeply, mocking him. At least it gets his lips to tilt up a little more. “Seriously, though. What’s wrong? I’ve never seen you like this before.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.” We climb the stairs to his wing of the castle. “All, king-mode.”
Shrugging, he sends me a forced grin. “That’s because I am in king mode.”
I shake my head. Obviously, he’s not going to give me a straight answer. Whatever. I’m too exhausted to pry it out of him.
“So, Damon knows a witch,” I say. “That’s good news, right?”
Kirian hums, seeming distracted again, and a bad feeling comes over me. Maybe he learned something about his mate?
Suddenly, I’m not so tired anymore. The energy I need to interrogate him comes pouring in.
“Well?” I prod. “What did Damon say?”
“He’s willing to take us to see the witch.”
“And?”
“We leave tomorrow.”
“That soon? Wow.”
I should be glad.
I’m not.
Earlier, when I forced Kirian into that promise, I didn’t consider one awful possibility: he might find his true mate and then I’d be stuck
