Chapter

Sixteen

A s soon as she stepped inside the castle, Merrick’s deadly presence sidled up beside her.

He’d changed for the evening. Dressed in a silvery tunic that shone as bright as his pearly hair, and emerald breeches that showed off his long legs, he couldn’t stand out more amongst the muted colors humans typically wore unless they were attending some type of festivity.

“Are you trying to make it known to everyone that you’re from Vastala?” she whispered as they walked toward the music and people milling about.

A scoff escaped Merrick. “Humans are too stupid for their own good. They already know I’m part-Fae. They won’t look further.”

“I think you’re underestimating them,” Lessia muttered.

When Merrick didn’t say anything else as they made their way through the dimly lit halls, worry coiled in her gut. Lessia halted, hovering outside the room where she expected the dinner to take place.

“Are you not going to ask me where I was? ”

Not that she particularly wanted to tell him, but she’d expected him to threaten her or at least yell at her for the disappearing act. This thick silence was almost worse. At least if he did it here, he couldn’t kill her. Not without alerting the humans on the other side of the wall.

Merrick’s sharp canines glinted in the firelight when his lip curled back in a sneer. “Do you wish to tell me, Elessia?”

Frowning, she turned to him. His eyes were—as always—averted, and his posture tense, as if he were preparing an attack. Or perhaps anticipating one.

His silver hair lay in soft waves over his shoulders like it had been newly washed, and there wasn’t a single wrinkle on his clothing.

Lessia couldn’t stop a shocked giggle from escaping. She imagined him in one of the small tubs she’d spotted in their rooms. He’d probably have to keep his legs out of the tub to even get that hair wet.

“What?” he growled. “Do I amuse you?”

“Not one bit,” she grumbled back.

Gods, he was truly the grumpiest person she’d ever met.

And she’d become very familiar with King Rioner’s other guards.

A chill danced down her spine.

Too familiar.

“You’re already late, Elessia. You’re not off to the best start, and I can assure you our king will not be happy with what I can report. Everyone is questioning your nomination, and if you continue to act like you don’t want to be here…”

Grinding her teeth, she glared at him, and when he reached out to grip her arm, she flinched.

“ Don’t touch me,” she snarled. “I’ve had enough of men manhandling me for today. I swear I will cut off that pretty hair of yours in your sleep if you do. ”

Or she might cut off something else more precious to him.

But she forced her mouth shut before she said it.

He’d surely kill her if she did.

To her surprise, Merrick’s hand fell to his side, and he only snarled back, “Then get in there and act like you are a willing participant. I won’t ask you nicely again.”

Nicely…

Lessia grimaced at his broad back as he slammed open the door, and everyone in the room turned their way. Human and Fae males were more alike than they’d like to think.

Grumpy bastards, all of them.

Forcing a smile to her lips, she slipped into the Lessia the people of Ellow expected. The one they’d gotten used to over the years—the persona she’d perfected with the help of Amalise and Ardow.

Hips swaying softly, she strode in through the room, meeting the eyes of all the men and forcing herself not to let her shoulders hunch at the disgust brimming there.

The blond nominee, whose name she had yet to learn, was the only one who didn’t look away, and Lessia wiggled her fingers at him as she approached the table with food.

It was easier to keep smiling when the aromas of boiled vegetables and stew filled her nose.

She ignored everyone in the room, including Merrick, who stood brooding in a corner, as she took a plate and filled it, remaining standing, not bothering to seat herself at the long table by the back wall.

If she was to be starved, she’d better fill up as much as she could.

She didn’t care when she burned her fingers ripping pieces off a loaf of bread, only stuffed it into her mouth and barely held back a groan at the sweetness. It wasn’t as good as Ardow’s, but it was hot. The stew was amazing, though, and she refilled her bowl twice before finally setting it down.

“You eat like a savage. You’re making me sick.”

Lessia lifted her eyes to Craven, who filled his goblet with wine beside her.

Licking her fingers, she made herself trail her eyes over his stupidly embroidered jacket, shiny black boots, and silver-peppered hair before setting down the bowl on the table still filled with food.

Meeting his muddled brown eyes, she smiled sweetly. “You make me sick, so perhaps we’re even?”

Craven’s eyes flared, and he took a step toward her when a snort sounded to her left.

She snapped her gaze to Loche and Zaddock, who leaned against the wall a few feet away, their usual black uniforms contrasting with the white walls.

Loche’s sharp eyes locked on hers as he took a sip from his gilded goblet, and it took all her willpower to keep his gaze when Craven stormed after her as she started to walk away.

Drops of spit landed on her face when he hissed, “None of us want you here. No one in Ellow wants you here, you dirty halfling. If I were you, I’d watch what I say. Accidents are not uncommon during the elections.”

Loche raised his brows, his eyes darting between her and Craven as the latter moved even closer. Heat crept up her neck, and she tore her eyes from Loche. But before she could smack the old man over his head, Stellia swept in and linked her arm with hers, dragging her away to another table.

Lessia glared at the beautiful captain, but she only grinned back and flicked her raven hair over a shoulder. “He’s an old bastard. Everyone knows it. Come on, I’ve heard so much about you. I want to know what’s true and not.”

Stellia pushed a goblet into her hand, and Lessia cautiously sniffed it.

“I won’t poison you. Not yet, at least.” Laughing, Stellia steered them into a dim corner on the side opposite from where Merrick and Stellia’s guard stood stiffly beside each other.

Stellia’s guard swept his gaze across the room, eyes narrowing as he assessed the nominees surrounding them while Merrick’s eyes remained locked on the floor beneath him.

“He isn’t the most trusting person,” Stellia whispered. “So he’s perfect for this. He’d probably kill everyone in here if there was a threat to my life. Seems like your guard is the same. He’s quite frightening, I must say. I may retract my previous statement about taking him to bed.”

Shaking her head, Lessia whispered back, “I think that’s wise. He scares me , and he’s my guard.”

Stellia threw her head back and laughed again, the sound so sincere that Lessia couldn’t stop her own lips from curling.

The naval captain was nothing like Lessia had assumed.

Stellia’s eyes twinkled with mischief, and there was nothing of the ruthless leader she’d heard about in her soft features.

She eyed Lessia knowingly. “I may look nonthreatening, but don’t underestimate me, Lessia.

I have killed more than you can imagine.

I’m tasked with protecting our western border, and the pirates there are ruthless.

They can be quite persistent in their quest for revenge after we and the Fae cut off all trade with them. ”

Clinking her goblet against hers, Lessia smiled. “I wouldn’t dare.”

Stellia nodded, then leaned in to whisper again. “So tell me, why does Loche look like he wants to kill you?”

Lessia could feel Loche’s burning stare roving over her but forced herself to keep her eyes on the captain. “I have no idea. I’ve tried to play nice, but he doesn’t seem receptive to it.”

“That one doesn’t play nice. He may be pretty to look at, but he does not have one ounce of charm in him.

And he isn’t receptive to it either. Trust me, I tried when I was young and dumb.

Although I’ve heard he never takes any women to bed, or anywhere else for that matter.

He might be a good regent—he has done more for Ellow than anyone knows—but he’s not good.

” Stellia shook her head. “I’d stay far away from him if I were you, especially when he looks at you like that. ”

Lessia let her eyes return to Loche, and sure enough, he glared at her from across the room.

Zaddock lifted his goblet when her eyes moved to his, and she lifted hers back, offering him a small smile. If Loche was determined to kill her, or at least stare her to death, perhaps she could get his second-in-command on her side.

When she glanced back at Loche, he still glowered at her, and something dangerous glinted in the gray. Narrowing her eyes, she kept his stare until Frayson walked into the room, waving his hands for them to gather by the fireplace.

Sighing, she let Stellia drag her to the circle of chairs.

She really didn’t want to have to use her magic, but if it continued like this…

She might not have a choice.