Page 10

Chapter ten

A Feast Fit For A Queen

L ess than half an hour later, I stood in front of an enormous, gold-plated mirror wearing an exact replica of the white gossamer gowns that Sophierial and Semyaza had been wearing. Semyaza had scrubbed me clean before magicking my blonde strands into some lifted style of the court and smacking my face with a pouf of white powder until I looked like an innocent cherub. Pleased with herself, she had left Cass and I alone in the dressing room and gone to inform Sophierial we were ready.

She hadn’t so much as touched Cass. Whether that was out of respect for the Bone Court or because she was terrified of the darker Fae, I wasn’t certain. Now Cass was walking up behind me with a grimace.

“You look just like them,” she said.

To a mortal, it might have been a compliment. Did I look like Aphrodite, the sexual goddess of love and beauty? Maybe Artemis, the innocent virgin goddess of the moon? But to me, I simply looked ridiculous. Like a bride still clinging to the mast of her chastity on a ship that had sailed long ago. I frowned.

“I thought you said I shouldn’t wear a court’s color until I had decided to be a part of it,” I recalled, wrinkling my nose at the fabric as I lifted it with a finger.

“Good listener,” Cass said, sucking her teeth.

“So why would she dress me in white?”

“To claim you,” Cass muttered and then added, with a shrug, “and to piss Lark off.”

My head swiveled so that my eyes snapped to hers.

“I can fix it,” Cass whispered conspiratorially, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “if you want. Unless you prefer to look every bit the chaste virgin.”

“How?” I asked.

She snapped a finger and the dress changed. I changed. My lips, now a deep cherry red, parted in surprise. Kohl lined my eyes, making them intoxicatingly dark. The pale powder was gone from my skin, replaced with a thin glittery shimmer over my natural skin tone. And the dress. It was now a shimmering gray, still light so as not to offend our host but most definitively not white, and the billowing sleeves were gone. Instead, it hung over my shoulders in two thick straps that dipped low to expose my cleavage and disappeared entirely in the back. The skirt was mostly the same. Only now, there was a long slit in the left side all the way up to my thigh. I knew without testing the theory that it would expose my entire leg when I walked. And my shoes. The simple satin ballerina flats were gone, replaced with shimmering silver stilettos. My eyes widened in shock.

“Too much?” Cass asked, biting a nail. “The shoes can take some getting used to.”

“I’ve been a working woman for forty years,” I told her. “I can walk in heels.”

Cass grinned.

“You look delicious,” she purred, gripping me by the shoulders and looking into my reflection with me. “You look… like us.”

Something stirred in my chest at that and I pushed it aside immediately. I shouldn’t feel a little flutter of pride in looking like them. I shouldn’t even be standing among them. I shouldn’t even be here.

“Lark told me you could take me back,” I said then, my smile having vanished. “If I want.”

Cass’ smile faltered as well. But she held my gaze.

“I could,” she told me then. “Any time you want.”

She waited. For me to give the command, for me to beg her to take me home. Maybe I should have. Maybe I should want to return to the university, to my uncle, more than I did. Maybe I would drown in guilt if I stayed here any longer. But this court and these people. I’d been here for less than forty-eight hours and I’d already learned more about the Fae than I ever could have hoped to back in the mortal plane. I owed it to myself, to academia, and in fact, to my uncle, to learn everything they could teach me before I returned. And not only that but I suspected that a certain DAA agent would await my return with questions I didn’t want to answer. Not yet.

“I’m starving,” I told Cass instead and her smile was back, spreading across her lips as she stuck out an arm and I wrapped mine around it.

Semyaza was not pleased when we finally emerged. That graceful smile of hers disappeared the moment she laid eyes on me. But I kept my head held high as I walked arm in arm with Cass all the way across the manor to the dining hall.

Sophierial was already inside. She and Lark were speaking too quietly for us to hear from outside so Cass and I stepped into the dining hall.

I turned to Sophierial and Lark. Partly because I could feel the goddess’ disapproving glare on me from the moment I entered. But also because I was being burned from the inside out by the penetrating gaze of the Fae beside her. He took his time, starting with my face, the darkened eyes, the red lips, then sliding down to my exposed shoulders, my generous cleavage, the cinched waist of the gown, and down my thigh to my stiletto heels. His jaw clenched, his dark eyes flaring silver for the briefest second. I blinked at him, chest heaving.

“Sit, sit,” Sophierial was instructing us, having gathered enough grace to look past my rebellious appearance. “Before it all grows too cold, now.”

Lark crossed the room in a few long strides, pulling out my chair for me. I nodded graciously and gathered my dress to sit myself. When I bent forward, Lark’s gaze found my open back and I heard the intake of breath as he stiffened beside me. Heart hammering in my chest, I kept my eyes away from his, worried I might melt to the core if I looked at him one more time.

But then he moved away to pull Cass’ chair out for her and I could breathe again. Cass muttered a thanks to her brother as he stepped away.

“Refuge,” Sophierial began speaking as Lark took the seat between myself and our esteemed hostess, “is not a status given to just anyone.”

Her gaze drifted to me before returning to Lark.

“We are aware that the rules of our city hold certain advantages for those who would wish to do us, or any on the Immortal Plane, harm,” she continued, her tone firm, formal. “Those who wish to pursue Refuge within our gates must prove that they are fleeing imminent danger, that they cannot resolve their issues peacefully without our interference, and that they will abide by our rules while they remain within the city walls.”

Her gaze flicked to me again and I bristled.

“Furthermore,” she continued, “you must convince our council to approve such Refuge.”

“Or the Queen,” Lark corrected her as he reached for his wine. “You can supersede your council’s decision when the decision is one concerning a royal member of another court.”

“For you and your sister, yes. But your friend—”

“There is nothing you can say that will convince me that a mortal is not always in imminent danger simply for their presence in our realm.”

“Even so.”

“My father told me centuries ago that you sought an alliance between our people.”

The Queen’s elegant smile faltered then. I tried not to gape at the word centuries.

“Is that something you still seek?” Lark asked, swirling the deep mahogany liquid in his glass, sniffing it, as if he were discussing something no more important than the weather or the latest fashions.

“I have been advised,” Sophierial replied, slowly, choosing her words carefully, “that an alliance with your people would be unwise.”

“Because we are evil. Because we delight in spirits and shadows and carnal pleasures of the flesh, yes?”

I froze at the last, lowering my head so that I might not blush myself to death right here in front of a Fae Queen.

“Because you cannot be trusted,” she argued, narrowing her gaze, offended.

“Oh, I agree,” Lark replied, finally raising his gaze to her. “But neither can you.”

The air felt more charged somehow. Cass was eating politely, staring down at her plate and hardly moving. Sophierial and Lark were locked in a silent staring contest. Nobody moved, hardly at all, and yet I felt it, the shift. Magic readying to be loosed if necessary. The skin of my arms prickled with goosebumps and I took a deep breath in preparation.

“Which one is it?” Sophierial asked then, breaking the silence and the tension. “Your brother or sister?”

Lark’s jaw tensed but he answered, “Both.”

Sophierial nodded absentmindedly, turning her attention to the food on the table, lost in thought.

“And would this be considered interfering?”

“I came to you myself. This course is my action. You will not be held accountable.”

“The last time you came to me, Canis, you were banished for half a century,” she reminded him and I looked up at him but he seemed unfazed by the remark.

“So how much worse could it get?” he asked.

Sophierial stared at him for a minute and then burst into melodious laughter. She cackled for so long that Cass joined in, although uncomfortably. Tears sprung from the Queen’s eyes and she wiped them away with a pale finger, still smiling as she turned back to him.

“I’ve always liked you, Canis,” she said then, regaining control of herself as she waved her arms and a second course sprung from beyond the walls, drifting through the air and settling over the nearly empty plates of cheese and grapes. “Your heart is not so dark as your father’s. And you’ve always had a good sense of humor.”

Cass grinned at that, far more relieved now that the mood of this dinner had seemed to take a considerable turn for the better. I couldn’t help but smile myself.

“And the mortal,” Sophierial called out suddenly. “What’s the story with her?”

“The mortal,” Lark drawled, his voice a low growl, “has a voice and can speak for herself.”

I blinked at him and then cleared my throat, dabbing my lips with my napkin and setting it aside.

“I’m not completely mortal,” I confessed. “Lark and I met healing a rift in my realm.”

Lark’s eyes were on me again but I made a concerted effort not to notice as I stared straight back at Sophierial who was examining me over the rim of her wineglass.

“Not completely mortal?” she asked, eyebrow quirked in curiosity.

“Ren is half Fae,” Cass explained, somehow sensing that I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.

I gave her a soft smile of gratitude and looked back down at my plate. It was foolish, I knew that, and weak. Sophierial could sense that as well. I knew she could. But I had spent a lifetime denying half of my existence and the last forty-eight hours being hated because of the other half. I would always be “the mortal” here just as I would always be something other, something unnatural there. It was just easier to hate what you didn’t understand, what you feared or despised. And I was at least half of that for someone no matter where I went. I should have been used to it by now. I would never belong here or there. I would never belong anywhere.

“Half Fae,” Sophierial muttered a moment later, her eyes narrowing in her examination of me. “Fascinating.”

“As delightful as this evening has been,” Lark remarked, setting his glass down with a tad more force than was strictly necessary, drawing our hostess’ attention back to him, “the three of us have had a very trying journey and it would be much appreciated if you would allow us to retire for the evening.”

“Of course,” Sophierial replied, sitting back in her chair and blinking as if stunned that she had momentarily forgotten her hospitable manners. “Semyaza! Barachiel!”

She clapped and two of her sentries appeared. One male and one female.

“As you know,” Sophierial began, her tone taking on a matronly lilt, “our court has rules we expect all guests to abide by. Therefore, men and women will stay in opposite halls. Any fraternizing and our agreement is void. Semyaza and Barachiel will show you to your rooms when you are ready. I thank you all for a lovely meal and such entertaining company. Canis, a pleasure as always.”

With that, the Queen of the Court of Light and Life swept from the room, her sentries standing at attention as her long white train floated past them and disappeared down the hall. Then they followed her out, likely waiting in the hallway beyond for us to emerge and request our rooms.

“What about Rook?” I asked since no one else seemed concerned enough to voice the question.

“Rook,” Lark began, looking from Cass to me, “will be fine. He knows the city better than any of us. He knows how to stay hidden for now. Cass can shadowstep out to him whenever she needs to.”

“It doesn’t seem right for us to be staying here, like this,” I said, gesturing at the enormous feast before us, “while he’s out there on the streets.”

Lark cocked his head to the side but Cass smiled.

“That’s sweet of you to worry about him,” Cass said kindly, “but I assure you, Rook will do just fine for himself. For now, we need to worry about staying alive in the Court of Life.”

Lark nodded his agreement.

“I thought you said it was forbidden to kill here,” I said.

“What I should have said,” Lark began, leaning forward, “was that it was forbidden to get caught.”