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“Shower,” he blurted out. “And I still need to, uh, pick a suit. You know how Sarina gets when we’re late. He forced another smile, a flimsy, cracked thing, and practically bolted for the washroom, leaving Taly standing there, looking as stunned as she had the time his experimental flight spell backfired, sending them both plummeting into the rose bushes.

He needed time. Space. He needed to figure out what the hell was crawling around inside him.

Chapter 31

Under a moonlit sky, men and women in all their finery crowded around the outside of Kalahad’s townhouse. Skye could see the commotion as he and the rest of his party walked down the hill to the house at the end of their street. A grand wrought-iron gate welcomed guests to an expansive cobblestone courtyard. Climbing ivy covered the walls of six stories set with windows all fully lit. Every terrace, despite the early season, boasted a wide array of exotic greenery in the height of bloom.

The doors stood open, and beyond them whispering willows with red and white fronds illuminated by softly glowing strands of lights lined an opulent hall that led further in.

The people waiting outside parted for them. Entry was based not only on time of arrival but on rank, and nobody was further up the hierarchy than Skye, followed closely by Ivain. Even Sarina, with her official titles formally stripped, still carried enough respect by way of reputation to earn her the occasional downward glance.

Aimee preened at the attention, stopping to let the onlookers admire her dress—a fitted red gown with a high waist and a full skirt that she flipped this way and that for maximum envy. Kato only rolled his eyes and marched past. Like Skye, he was used to the eyes that always seemed to follow them.

Aiden was the only smart one among them. He’d weaseled out of the night’s festivities, picking up an extra shift at the healing camp.

“Careful.” The puddle was nothing Taly couldn’t handle on her own, but Skye picked her up anyway, wrapping an arm around her waist and hoisting her across.

He trusted himself again. Enough to lean down and steal a kiss before looping her arm through his. He had stood under the scalding water, muscles locked, riding out the slow, agonizing crawl of static through his veins. The thing in his spine pulsed, adjusted, settled—he wasn’t sure if it was done. Only that, for now, it was quiet.

Whispers, raised eyebrows, and general mild disgust rippled through the crowd, still shivering and waiting to get in. Skye took note of every disapproving face.

This wouldn’t be the last time he and Taly were seen together around town, and he had no intention of censoring himself. He loved this woman. He’d only just discovered it, and since they all might die tomorrow, he wasn’t going to waste one more moment conforming to their shallow expectations. Better to let the gossip mill formally know that the heir of Ghislain had taken a human lover.

Judging from the gleam in her eye, the way she pressed closer, Taly didn’t seem to mind causing a little friction.

The walls inside were draped in sumptuous velvets, alternating between rich crimson and pristine white. Above their heads, matching lanterns suspended from delicate ribbons dangled among the weeping branches that drooped over the path.

Solnar decorations. The entire dinner had been scheduled around the final sunset that would take them into the beginning of the Long Night. Those in attendance were dressed in similar shades of white and red.

At the end of the hall stood Kalahad. He wore a white suit with blood red embroidery and a broad smile as he greeted his guests.

“Remember,” Sarina whispered to Taly, “smile and laugh at everything he says. Play to his arrogance. A captive audience puts men at ease, and men at ease tell secrets.” Taly nodded.

“There she is!” Kalahad exclaimed when he saw them. “Our guest of honor!” He excused himself, pressing past a self-important-looking noblewoman. He marched up to them and took Taly’s hand. Skye made himself let her go. It wasn’t something that came naturally, letting another man pull her off his arm. But he’d been instructed to put aside better instincts tonight as they dangled his mate in front of the enemy like bait.

Kalahad leaned down to kiss Taly’s hand. Skye made himself think happy thoughts.

“It’s such an honor to finally meet you, my dear.” His voice was sugared with a toadying sweetness, designed to charm.

Taly dipped into a curtsy, her gown sweeping the floor, and looked up at him with an effortless, dazzling smile that outshone the surrounding sea of cultivated, agreeable expressions. “Thank you, my Lord,” she said, her voice carrying the perfect blend of gratitude and elegance. “I hear I owe you my life. If not for your generosity, I don’t know what might’ve become of me.”

Sarina and Skye exchanged a look and a raised brow. Taly was no stranger to the etiquette of these sorts of functions. She knew how to conduct herself, and yet she’d never played the role of pretty, doe-eyed human quite so well.

What had Azura done to her in that palace that Sarina hadn’t been able to accomplish in 15 years?

Kalahad smiled, delighted and utterly charmed. “I like her,” he said to Ivain as he came to stand next to him. “How much?”

Taly glanced at Skye, mouth quirking. He was glad he hadn’t taken that bet.

Ivain’s pleasantly bland expression turned a bit sharper.

“Yes,” Kalahad drawled, un-fazed, “I heard you disliked that joke.” Then he clapped Ivain on the shoulder like they were old chums. “I’m so glad you came. Truly.”

Ivain, dressed in a somber red tailcoat, said simply, “There’s no need to pucker up for me. It’s not my ass you should be kissing.”

Kalahad looked confused, then laughed. Sarina grimaced. “Excuse him,” she said. “With age comes the liberty to speak with… unfiltered honesty.”

“Ah, Lady Castaro.” Kalahad dipped his head. “We never overlapped before you exited society, but the tales of your exploits are still legend. It’s an honor to finally meet the mastermind behind the Feywild Trade Agreement.”