Page 70

Chapter

Sixty-Seven

“ L essia!”

She pried her eyes open to find Merrick sitting on her bed. A muscle in his jaw ticked as he flipped a dagger between his hands.

Lessia threw an arm over her eyes. “If you’re not here to kill me, I need a few more hours of sleep.”

“It’s early afternoon already. The Fae delegation and those vile human nobles arrived a few hours ago, and the festivities are about to begin.” Merrick mercilessly pulled off the blanket. “You need to hurry.”

She flew up, staring with wide eyes at the dim light shining in through the windows.

How had she slept this long?

As her mind woke, everything that happened yesterday slammed into her, and her grouchiness at being awoken was replaced with nagging dread and nearly overwhelming guilt.

Here she was, sleeping the day away when there was so much she needed to do. When Ardow had slept on a cold stone floor, when the children she’d promised would be safe had to pack up their lives once again, when her best friend had to prepare to leave the only home she’d known.

Sprinting to the closet, she started pulling out the black dress she’d worn last time, all the while thinking about how she would find time to figure out how to get Ardow out, when Merrick cleared his throat.

“Loche dropped off a gift for you last night.”

Her brows snapped together as she stared at the beautiful package on the desk Merrick gestured toward. It was wrapped in silky paper, and as she cautiously removed it, her mouth fell open.

It was a dress.

The material was pure gold, shimmering slightly in the gentle winter light. The dress had a boned bodice with darker gold bands holding it together, and the skirt was layered so that it would fall beautifully from her waist.

But her shoulders slumped when she realized there was no way she could wear it.

The flowy sleeves were capped in the latest fashion to show off her arms.

Lessia draped it over the chair, swallowing against the thickness clogging her throat.

“I thought this might happen,” Merrick muttered. “One second.”

Her eyes followed him as he stalked into his room. A moment later, Merrick emerged with another package, this one much smaller and wrapped in brown paper.

He ungraciously threw it to her. “Here you go.”

Tearing it open, she pulled out silky white fabric.

“Merrick…” she breathed.

It was gloves that would reach far beyond where her tattoo stretched up her arm.

“Thank you,” she got out as more tightness constricted her throat.

Merrick only grumbled as he turned his back to her. “Now get dressed so we can go down. I have some business with the Fae.”

Despite the beautiful dress and the unexpected thoughtfulness from Merrick, dread once again whirled in her stomach.

As she slipped it on, lacing up the bodice and fluffing the skirts, then pulling on the gloves, she asked quietly, “Who is here?”

Merrick’s shoulders tensed. “No one you will know. A few Fae nobles and emissaries. And King Rioner’s brother.”

Her hand froze midair with the brush she’d planned to use to tame her hair. “Which brother?”

“Alarin.”

The brush clattered to the floor as black spots danced before her eyes.

No, no, no.

This couldn’t be happening.

Not with everything else that was going on.

It was too much.

“I can’t. I can’t. I can’t,” she whispered as devastated amber eyes etched into her mind.

Lessia crouched down with her hands over her face as if the darkness could purge the memory, and it wasn’t the bodice she’d laced up that constricted her breathing.

“Lessia.” Merrick’s hand landed on her shoulder. “What is it?”

She lifted her head, for the first time wishing she could meet his eyes so he could read her, not so she could send him away.

But while his brows pulled, Merrick’s gaze remained averted as he gently dragged her upright .

“What happened?” he asked again, his hand remaining on her shoulder as her body racked with shudders.

She thought about telling him.

She wanted to tell him.

But she couldn’t.

Not as long as he was blood-sworn to the king.

Instead she removed his hand, forced her shoulders back, and picked up the brush again.

She had no choice but to get through this evening.

Keep it together for a few more hours.

There were more lives at stake than her own, and after tonight, she’d be free to save them.

When she’d gotten all the tangles out, albeit with a shaky hand, she glanced in the mirror, trying to light up her face to match the dress.

But her eyes remained wary, and with a deep sigh, she took the arm Merrick offered, allowing him to lead her out and down into the common room.

Merrick was tense as he walked beside her, and she could sense he wanted to ask again what had happened, but thankfully, he kept his mouth drawn into a thin line as they reached the double doors.

She’d kept her gaze down as she passed a few groups standing around the hallways, but when Merrick came to a halt, she lifted her eyes and found Loche leaning against the wall outside the doors to the ballroom.

Releasing her arm, Merrick took a step aside just as Loche’s eyes found hers.

His mouth quirked as he dragged his gaze over her body, and he shook his head as he closed the distance between them.

“I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled as he pulled at her hand for her to spin before him .

“That would be a first,” Lessia joked weakly, trying to push away the mounting feeling of panic that roiled inside her as a guard opened the door for them.

Loche snorted, his fingers laced firmly with hers.

She glanced down at their joined hands and then back up at him. “Is this a good idea? I don’t think they’ll like you walking in with me.”

Loche smiled at her, his eyes glittering. “Fuck them.”

A small smile pulled at her lips.

He was right.

Fuck them.

After tonight, this nightmare would be over, and she’d never have to see these people again.

But her smile fell as she glanced at Loche, at how his broad grin wavered not once as they strode into the room and conversations quieted as people noticed them.

She’d never see him again either.

Merrick followed closely as Loche led her toward a table with wine, and Lessia tried to tell herself it was for the better.

Not just for her but for him.

She took a deep sip from the goblet Loche pressed into her hands, then turned toward the room.

It looked spectacular. Deep purple tapestries decorated every wall, and large chandeliers had been strategically placed to shine soft light over the many humans and Fae mingling in the room.

Well, the humans mingled with humans while the Fae stood by themselves to her right, seemingly whispering about the humans that dared walk by them and laughing at whatever they found amusing about their kind.

She looked away when she caught one of the Fae’s eyes, shifting to stand a bit behind Loche.

Craven was nowhere to be found in the crowd, though, and she frowned at Loche. “Where is Craven?”

“He couldn’t go through with the final challenge.” Loche smirked. “He didn’t even have the courage to tell us in person. He just left a note in his room that he’d decided to bow out.”

Lessia offered him a faint smile back.

She didn’t blame Craven for opting out.

Had she had a choice, she would have as well.

As she let her eyes sweep across the room once more, she caught a glimpse of golden-brown hair and quickly spun around, facing Merrick, who leaned against the wall. Picking up a goblet from the table, she offered it to him, trying to pretend that was her intent all along.

But the crease between Merrick’s brows deepened as he accepted it, and his head tilted slightly as he repositioned himself to see behind her.

“They’re coming over,” he mumbled.

Lessia froze.

You can do this.

You can do this.

He doesn’t remember who you are.

She repeated the words to herself as she turned back toward the room.

Loche’s hand found hers, and she pretended to fix something with her dress with the other, keeping her gaze down.

Merrick stepped up behind her, so close that his breaths blew through her hair, and the leather of his tunic scraped against her arm.

You can do this.

He doesn’t know you anymore.

Lessia trembled as she drew air into her lungs.

Unlike Merrick, Loche seemed entirely at ease when a group of four Fae reached them, keeping hold of Lessia’s hand while reaching out the other in greeting .

The first male accepted it, then turned to Lessia.

She knew he could hear her racing heart when she lifted her eyes to meet his silver ones, but she kept her face blank as she gave him a nod. “Nice to meet you.”

The Fae quirked a dark brow, letting his lips curl into a lethal smile. “And you, Elessia. I’ve heard such very interesting things about you.”

She held back a grimace at the icy implications in his tone, but Loche released the hand he’d just shaken and turned their way.

“You are in my lands right now. If I am informed that one of you so much as glances at her the wrong way, this will end very ugly.” Loche’s glacial tone mirrored the frosty smile of the Fae male, and Lessia stiffened when they continued to stare daggers at each other.

But then a golden hand landed on the Fae’s shoulder.

“Riven, the regent is right. You will not disrespect the people of Ellow, or I have orders from Rioner to make sure you do.”

The Fae stepped around Riven, and she hadn’t thought her heart could beat any faster, but when kind amber eyes fixed on hers, each beat thrummed in her ears, drowning out all other noise.

“I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting before.” He bowed to her and Loche. “I am Alarin Rantzier, King Rioner’s brother.”

Loche nodded back, but Lessia stood paralyzed, unable to utter a word as he straightened.

Alarin’s eyes found hers again, and his mouth fell open. “You look so much like…” He shook his head. “Forgive me; I am forgetting my manners. What is your name?”

She couldn’t help but stare at his familiar face, and a wave of memories washed over her as she noted the stubble on his chin, the one spot where hair never grew. Some of the creases by his eyes had deepened, but otherwise, he looked exactly the same as the last time she’d seen him.

A deep ache spread inside her, and she had to bite her tongue not to jump into his arms, telling him how much she’d missed him.

Her father.

Loche cleared his throat beside her, and she quickly snapped out of it.

He didn’t remember her.

Didn’t know he’d lost two daughters that day.

“I’m Lessia Gyldenberg,” she mumbled.

Her father smiled at her, and the sight crashed right into her chest, before he shifted his gaze behind her. “Merrick! It’s good to see you.”

Merrick stepped around her, and her brows rose as the males embraced.

She hadn’t known they knew each other.

When Merrick stepped back, there was a small smile on his face, and her brows lifted even higher.

And apparently liked each other.

But then Merrick froze beside her, and his face slowly moved from her to her father. A rush of air left him when he snagged on the hair tumbling down her shoulders—the golden shade identical to that of the male before them.

The others seemed oblivious to what had just happened. Wishing Loche and Lessia good luck tomorrow, they returned to the rest of the delegation, which hovered at the back wall.

Her father glanced at her again, his eyes narrowing slightly as his gaze trailed over her, but then he shrugged. “Merrick, may I have a word?”

When Merrick gave him a sharp nod, he smiled at her and Loche. “If we don’t speak again, I wish you a pleasant evening.”

Merrick started following him as he turned to walk out of the room, and before she could stop herself, she gripped his hand. He didn’t turn around, but he squeezed hers quickly before letting go and stalking after her father.

She blew out a breath.

He wouldn’t tell him.

Loche downed his glass beside her, then picked up another and emptied it as well. “I know we need to work together with them, but do they need to be so damn stuck up?”

A shocked giggle escaped her, some of the tension lining her shoulders easing.

One side of Loche’s mouth lifted. “I guess Alarin wasn’t too bad.”

She nodded, and while a sudden yearning to tell him who Alarin really was coursed through her, she kept her mouth closed.

Tonight was not the night for big revelations.

And her being the daughter of King Rioner’s brother—the male next in line for the throne, should something happen to Rioner—was definitely a big revelation.

“Come on.” Loche tugged at her hand. “Let’s dance. There won’t be any balls for a while after this.”

There weren’t many people dancing when Loche’s arm circled her waist, but she didn’t even hear the whispers she was certain came from human and Fae alike as he spun her around the makeshift dance floor.

Instead, she let his strong heartbeat drown out the sounds around them and his breathing slow her own until she could push the overwhelming thoughts flooding her mind deep down inside her.