Page 6 of Bonded to the Fallen Shadow King (Of Fae and Wolf Trilogy #1)

Chapter Six

Vad

I braced my hands against my belt and blinked several times as I took in the chaos that was the guest banquet hall. I struggled to understand what I was seeing, especially through the sweet and tart scents assaulting my nostrils.

This had to be a hallucination. No one would be this…uncouth.

But no. Each time I opened my eyes, I saw the exact same catastrophe in front of me.

What in the scaffing void had happened here? Not one of the contestants had escaped the carnage of creams, jams, sauces, and mash. A few even had pastries clinging to their clothes or in their hair. One honey-brown-haired woman held a chocolate croissant to her lips as if she was ready to take a bite.

Some of the weight that had been pressing on my shoulders lessened. At least it wasn’t blood smeared across the walls with limbs of Briar’s body scattered across the seats and table. Kaylen would have happily gutted her like the river trout served at dinner.

Had Briar turned the intended attack into a—a food fight? The very thought was preposterous but at the same time...clever.

Briar stood in the center of the guest dining hall, staring right at me. Her hands were piled with blackberry cloud trifle, ready to fling.

My chest tugged at the sight.

Her light copper hair was matted with night cordial, blackberry cloud trifle, and some sort of sticky white powdered confection that was half dissolving on her neck in all shades of blue and purple. Her strange garb had been soaked and stained as well, little blue droplets pattering from the top’s hemline onto the plush purple rug below.

Most of the other women hadn’t fared much better, but many had the decency to at least look ashamed—as they should! But not Briar. If anything, she stood taller.

This was not conduct becoming of women in their position. Yet the sheer ludicrousness of it all—Briar standing there, knowing they wanted to kill her, and her weapon of choice had been…pastries and trifles?

I shifted my weight, forcing my features to tighten. She had to understand actions like these wouldn’t be tolerated. For the love of Fate, were manners and decorum not the same on Earth? How did those barbarians live?

A faint tremor passed over her expression, but she didn’t turn away. She didn’t even have the sense to blush or mumble an apology, or attempt a bow or curtsy.

“Having fun?” I demanded, taking in every detail. This was ridiculous. And…funny. A smile fought to curve my lips, but I pressed them together firmly.

I needed this handled, and to get away from her. My legs yearned to close the distance between us. I needed her to heed my warning, and even better, offer an apology—

“Yes.” The white-haired Sylvan Fae beside her reached out, and they joined hands. More fluffy cream and sugar dripped from their arms.

Heat coiled in me. My spine tightened, and my wings itched. A part of me wanted to lick some of the food from the corner of her mouth and grin.

Feck. The thought was so tempting. Pressure built in my chest, and a laugh lodged in my throat.

No. I couldn’t laugh. These weren’t the actions of a queen, and I feared laughter would encourage her to continue with her antics.

Eyes firmly on mine, she lifted her chin in challenge. “Join us.”

She was feisty, and everything a queen shouldn’t be. Yet…also endearing.

I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth, willing the laughter down. I couldn’t afford to not look kingly.

Thalen and Silus came in as well, their footsteps heavy on the marble floor.

Thalen’s mouth opened as he took in the culinary carnage. His gaze fell on Briar, and he grinned. “I knew we shouldn't have skipped dinner. Looks like the blueberry briar patch is proving quite interesting!"

Silus folded his arms, surveying the feasting hall. "Blackberry, not blueberry, my friend. Details matter."

Elara’s soft footsteps announced her arrival, followed by a short gasp of amusement that she masked with a sharp cough.

“So they do,” Thalen said. “And blackberry is better, because blackberry bushes have thorns, same as someone here.”

I gritted my teeth and turned to look at the three of them. Silus met my ire with stoic calm, while Thalen made no attempt to hide his mirth, his amber eyes dancing. Elara had the decency to flush and pretend her cough was real. She cleared her throat as delicately as she could and then straightened her posture, hands folded before her.

That warning glare gave me time to gather my own composure. The worst thing I could do was chuckle. And Briar seemed void-bent on ensuring nothing would be easy with her. She was still staring at me with those fierce eyes, her shoulders back as if daring me to join in the fun.

It would have been so easy to pick up a handful of that trifle or the mashed turnips coated in brown sugar and hurl it at her, the way I once had thrown snowballs and salt water sponges at Thalen and Silus.

Those days were long gone, and I couldn’t afford to let my guard slip even for a moment. I was a prince on the verge of becoming king. My kingdom was at stake, my family at risk of falling apart more than they already had.

I straightened and scanned the entire gathering with a glare. If I looked at Briar any longer, I might not be able to hide my reactions. “This is a disgrace. Every last one of you should be embarrassed by your deplorable conduct.”

Kaylen’s wings fluttered, her hair caked with pastries and cream. Her silver gown had picked up almost every shade imaginable, ruined beyond all non-magical repair. A snarl twisted her face. "That little wretch is the only one responsible for this!" She pointed a long finger in Briar's direction. The two fae on either side of her nodded. "That abomination is making a mockery of everything!"

I turned to fully face Kaylen, shoulders squared. My blood chilled with the rage that surged through my veins. What kind of coward was she, to pretend that she had no role in this? "Briar is the only one responsible for this? Did she force you to participate with her magic? Did she make you pick up the food and throw it?” Disgust curled my lips as I stared Kaylen down. “I did not realize she was so much more powerful than you. You must be quite ashamed."

All color drained from her face. Her voice took on a sickeningly nasal tone, like that of a child unwilling to accept any share of the blame. “No, Your Highness. You ordered that there be no more bloodshed tonight—”

“And those were your only options? To kill her or engage in a reckless and wasteful food fight?” My brow furrowed, my anger deepening. Something about this woman grated on my very soul.

Kaylen drew back half a step. Her lips moved, but no sounds came out.

"Everyone out," I ordered. As Briar started to leave, I shot a glare in her direction and jabbed my finger at her. "You. Stay.”

Most of the contestants immediately moved toward the door, heads down or eyes averted, eager to depart. Elara retreated back to the doorway, nodding and speaking softly to them as they passed. She’d brushed against one of the chairs and gotten a smear of dark-purple and white trifle on her dark-gray skirt.

I brought my attention back in time to see a purple-haired fae with bright pink eyes whisper to Briar, “You’ll regret this.”

Briar scrunched her nose. “The only thing I regret is that I didn’t get to push your face into the middle of that pudding.”

Damn her. She had spirit, but it was going to get her killed. There was nothing save murder in the purple-haired fae’s eyes. But that didn’t seem to faze Briar.

The white-haired Sylvan Fae in the green dress now covered in pastries and night cordial lingered a half breath longer, her wide eyes seeming to search for confirmation Briar would be all right.

I glared at them both.

The white-haired fae cringed and darted toward the door, where Elara waited to usher her out. Elara put one hand on the small fae’s arm and followed her over the onyx threshold into the dark hall.

Silence descended upon the room, broken only by the soft plopping of sugary frosting and fluffy trifle sliding down the wall and hitting the floor.

I tightened my jaw, trying to maintain my composure. How did I start this conversation? What could I even say to her about her behavior? Still, I had to say something. She had no idea what she was up against.

My insides clenched as I stared into her eyes, and the heat returned in my blood. The tug in my chest intensified, urging me closer, something unknown drawing us together.

I could have her if I wanted. Yes, the Shadow Fae Council would be annoyed, and I'd have to admit my father was right. But if I—

No.

What am I thinking?

I forced myself to cut those thoughts off at the root. It wasn't about what I wanted. I had to have the strongest bride. I didn’t care about the outcome aside from that. I couldn’t.

Fate help me. Why was I so drawn to this one?

Suddenly I heard the sound of moving liquid. I turned to see both Silus and Thalen sitting at the table, Thalen pouring night cordial into golden goblets.

I’d been so focused on Briar I’d failed to notice that Thalen and Silus were still here. Thalen propped his feet on one of the trifle-stained seats while Silus had his arms folded on the table, his elbow treacherously close to a tilted bowl of strawberry jam.

“I said everyone out,” I growled.

Thalen blinked innocently at me. “She’s still here. Besides, I want to know what chaotic plan the copper thornbush has next…because Silus and I want to help.”

“Nope.” Silus accepted the goblet and took a drink. “I don't want to help, but I will watch.”

I pointed my finger at the door. They at least had the good sense to immediately rise. Thalen picked up one of the only trays of powdered confections that had survived the fight and winked. I restrained a growl.

After the door shut again, I turned my full attention to Briar, waiting for her to end the silence or show some sign of discomfort or remorse.

Her fingers curled into her palms, and she shifted her weight a little.

Good. She had some sense.

“Explain yourself. What did you hope to gain from all this?” I braced my hands against my belt, resisting the urge to reach out and wipe the cream from her cheek. “Why would you insult my hospitality and this competition by wasting our food and drink?”

“Because those bitches deserved it. They were acting like their shit don’t stink.” She folded her arms, saying this as if it were the most natural observation in the world. Not even an ounce of contrition underscored her words.

My scowl deepened. I canted my head, uncertain whether I was more shocked at the explanation or the topic. What did it even have to do with anything? “Their…shit doesn’t stink? This was the discussion at dinner? Did you choose this topic?”

Her eyebrow quirked. “What? You saying yours doesn’t either?” A hint of a smile pulled at those full lips. Was she mocking me or teasing me?

I glared harder, even as my mind spun. What was wrong with this woman? “This is not an appropriate topic of conversation.”

Her lips pursed, and color flushed her face, highlighting her cheekbones beneath the smears of confections. I could smell sugar and syrup on her skin, mingling with ginger and cinnamon. She swallowed hard. “I’m guessing you don’t have that saying?”

My head jerked back. How was I supposed to respond to that?

She laughed. "It's what we say on Earth when someone thinks they’re too good for everyone else." She hesitated. "You really don't have that saying, do you?”

I shook my head. “Why would we have a saying like that? There’s no need for such a discussion.”

“I mean, it’s…it’s a thing we say. Like…you know when someone says people don't sweat, they glow?"

My brows knit together. She was even more ridiculous than I'd thought. "No. You don’t sweat?"

She laughed, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

Feck. My stomach twisted, and heat surged through my veins.

I resisted the urge to take her hand and pull her toward me, and fought the desire to curl my hand around her cheek. Damn it. She really was adorable, even covered in food and wearing ridiculous blue creatures. What spell had she cast on me? Some part of me longed to join in the laughter. To admit that, yes, this was fecking hilarious. Even without knowing precisely what Kaylen and the others had said or done, I had no doubt they’d deserved this.

And she’d deescalated what could have turned into a brutal and deadly fight by…hurling insults and pastries.

How was she drawing me in like this? It had to be magic, didn't it? “It was disrespectful,” I said again, solemnity steeling my tone. “This is a serious matter. These tests are not a joke. You could die.”

That eyebrow went higher, and she set her jaw. "I thought you weren't going to intervene. You said you don’t care whether any of us live or die." Her voice held an edge, and she folded her arms over her chest. "Why do you care if I act improperly? You don’t want any of us ." She hesitated, then shrugged her shoulders. Sadness flashed through those beautiful eyes, but she steeled herself as if drawing upon some inner strength. "I’m going to die anyway. At least I can have a little fun before facing death again."

Her words struck me like a blow to my gut, and I wanted to know who had dared to harm her.

There was one thing I had to do.