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I thanked the moon that the potion Lord Aldéric had shoved down my throat at regular intervals still pulsed through me strongly. As much as I wished to know what magic I possessed, the ability to lie was as precious as gold. More so even.

“Hmm, perhaps I should take to the villages for a mate?” he said, eyes dipping to my breasts again. “I’ve been missing out on great beauty.”

I inclined my head, hoping he’d take that as a thank you. He did, and the prince turned to open the door to the royal box. “Come, I will introduce you to the king.”

Not my father. Not my lord father. The king.

Even the heir must act within the bounds of etiquette around King Magnus. I would do well to remember that.

We entered the box, and the difference of a few floors astounded me. The field was so close that I could smell the dirt and hear the voices of the dwarf judges as they determined the order in which the finalists should compete.

At our entrance, everyone had turned expectantly. Saga gave me a smile, melting my unease slightly before it could creep all the way over me and freeze me from the inside out. I was thankful for the princess, as no one else’s gaze felt warm or welcoming.

Courtiers stared at me as Prince Rhistel had, though in a far less suggestive manner. The king and queen studied me too, an interesting specimen elevated to their level.

While the king was not unattractive, Saga had clearly inherited her delicate beauty from her mother. Though the queen had dark brown hair, much like her sons’, she shared many more features with her daughter. Both had luminous, creamy skin, full pink lips, and perfectly symmetrical features. But the princess’s eyes were all her father’s—ice blue, just like his wings. Truth be told, the king looked as if he’d been carved from a glacier, he was so pale, so cold looking with skin that looked hard to the touch and long white hair. A son of winter, indeed.

I tore my eyes from the king, to take in the Vagle box. Even there, people stared my way and, of course, Calpurnia scowled. I was beginning to wonder if her face could make any other expression.

At Calpurnia’s side, a pale blonde female about my age watched me with hard eyes. Two older males joined them in their examination, both in green cloaks that bore a silver stag on the back. Vagles. One had to be Calpurnia’s grandfather, the queen’s father and Lord of Coin. Courtiers sat there too, but I paid them little mind. In my scheme they were unimportant.

Out of the many fae in both boxes, only the royal guards took no notice of me. They had been trained to seek threats, and they clearly did not deem me one. That, at least, was a boon.

“We’ll go this way. Your lady-in-waiting may stay back here.” The prince pointed to the back row, to the luscious velvet, royal blue seats, and he glided down the steps toward his family.

Clemencia seemed upset, but I smiled at her, trying to exude confidence that I did not feel at our separation. “As he said.”

She took a seat while I followed the prince. When we stood before the king and queen, I curtsied with trembling knees. “My king. My queen. Princess Saga.”

I did not rise but waited as Roar and Clemencia had instructed me to do when meeting the royals for the first time. It took a long time until a feminine voice spoke. “Warden Roar did not overstate your beauty, Lady Neve. Please, rise.”

When I straightened, the queen studied me with that same, unwavering intensity. By all the sacred stars in the sky, this faerie made me shiver. Though not as much as her mate, who’s icy gaze lifted goosebumps on my arms.

“Indeed, he did not,” the king said. “Though I still take issue that he entered an engagement without my knowing or blessing. And before the Courting Festival at that. One might consider his actions defiant.”

“If you wish to break them up, Father, I’d like to get to know the lady.” Prince Rhistel spoke lightly, as if jesting.

The king glared at his son. “You will wed no fisherfae’s daughter.”

“Who said anything about marriage?” the heir smirked, a viper’s smile.

“The final archery rounds are about to start,” Saga interrupted. “Perhaps we should sit? I’d hate to keep Vale waiting for a chance for a title.” The princess grinned. “Not to mention, I’d like Lady Neve to myself. We’ve already made fast friends.”

Prince Rhistel snorted, but the king and queen agreed and shifted to watch the archers. I didn’t fail to notice how King Magnus’s face softened to Saga in a way that his son, or even his queen, did not elicit. Once I was no longer under their intense scrutiny, a weight lifted off my shoulders.

“Here.” Saga gestured to a seat with a dark blue glass goblet filled with red wine. “Lady Neve, please, sit by me. Would you like a goblet of wine?”

I declined the wine but sat with her at the far end of the royal line. No one took the seat to my right, but the Vagle box was not far away and filled with female voices speaking in low tones. About me, no doubt.

When the first finalist took his shots, three times just as in the preliminary rounds, Princess Saga leaned closer and whispered to me. “Happy to have you here, though I must apologize for my family. And for the merchant behind us. My mother loves his jewel house but blazing moon, does he stink!”

I sniffed the air and gagged. It was a testimonial to how distracted I’d been that I had not smelled the stench of onion mixed with wine before. How in the nine kingdoms were those sitting closer to the merchant tolerating him?

“No apologies needed. Your mother seems to be a delight.”

Saga laughed dryly. “She can be but take care. She is not a born Aaberg, but House Vagle was once royal in the midlands. Ice runs thick through her veins too, all the Vagle veins, in fact.” Saga looked over at me. “As you can see by my cousin, who still has not let go of the fact that Warden Roar is no longer an eligible lord.”

I turned. Calpurnia stared at me; her expression quietly furious. Calculating even. I shuddered.