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Rydekar remained still and silent, only taking one bite of each dish.

And his eyes stayed on her. Cautioning. Cruel. Penetrating.

Fuck you.

The words didn’t cross her lips, but she pushed them to him, purposely reaching out to his mind.

A smile curved his perfect mouth.

You wish.

She’d never been closer to murder.

Because he was right. Deep down, she did.

Drops of Heaven

The music barely drowned out the chatter of the eager court, who sat merrily breaking their daily fast while gorging on rumors and whispers. Eyes bounced from the unseelie king to Rissa, his perceived counterpart, sporadically jumping to the lady seated at the very center of the long table: Siobhe, who ate solemnly and silently. The excitement was palpable. Never mind the threat of war, the very real possibility that the fae lands would soon once again be drenched in blood. This was the only spectacle they cared about.

Rissa would have loved to deny them, to focus on the excellent fungus roulade seasoned with a rosemary mousse, but she couldn’t help adding to the theatrics. She glared at Rydekar. He, in return, smirked, like he knew all her secrets.

“You’re to leave the Keep, I hear?”

She’d barely acknowledged Teoran since the beginning of the feast. Now, she forced her gaze to slide to him. “Yes, as soon as tomorrow. Tonight, if I can manage it.”

She hated herself for it, but Rissa’s eyes had a will of their own. She looked athimagain.

And who could blame her for keeping her eyes on the most dangerous predator in the vicinity?

Rydekar gestured for some wine. Had he even touched his food?

She wasn’t concerned about his lack of appetite. Shewasn’t.

“I’d be delighted to escort you, if you wish for the company.”

Rissa’s eyebrows rose a fraction. “That may not be advisable.” She couldn’t imagine taking a prince of the Autumn Court with her to the Wilderness. What if he was harmed? She could cause a rift between two of the most powerful seelie kingdoms.

“I’d consider it an honor.” His grin broadened. “My father’s company has exhausted all its charms in one season.”

It happened so fast she wouldn’t have sensed it if her entire awareness wasn’t focusing on Rydekar. One moment, she was shooting daggers with her eyes, the next, she caught a shift, swift and skillful.

Someone had moved next to him. Too fast. Too purposeful. She could hardly detect who it had been—one of his friends at the table, one of the servants fussing over their drinks and plates. Her eyes barely made sense of it.

Rissa’s nose was more trustworthy.

In the distance, with hundreds of perfumed folk blocking her, she could hardly sense a thing.

She rose and straightened up. Gone were the pretenses of paying attention to anything else; all eyes set on her. After a moment of uncertainty, the rest of the court rose as one. Everyone but Rydekar.

She could only stand, feeling foolish.

Rydekar smirked knowingly, as if to congratulate her,see? You’re queen, whatever you say.

She wasn’t, but these people would believe any lie he served them.

Frustrated, she imitated a move she’d seen her father do a thousand times, lifting one imperious hand, and lowering them. The courtiers returned to their dinner.

Squared shoulders, head high, she walked the length of the table till she reached its smug, maddening, unfairly beautiful king.