Page 13 of Manor of Wind and Nightmares (Fae of Brytwilde #3)
Now
P rince Kaede didn’t linger long after our dance, as mine had been the last, but his absence did nothing to ease my worry. I tried to feign a carefree attitude as the other women laughed and danced with the nobility, eager to enjoy the festivities.
That was, until Ji ordered the musicians to stop playing so he could make his announcement.
We gathered together nervously. Callista remained resentful, refusing my offered hand, still thinking that my close proximity to the prince had been a sign he favored me.
My stomach clenched. She had no idea that it was the opposite, a fact that put both of our lives in danger.
“We are thrilled to welcome you to Willow Manor and our competition for Prince Kaede’s bride and our future queen!
” There was a smattering of applause from the nobles, while we humans waited with breathless anticipation for Ji to expand on his announcement.
“In our competition, we will assess your qualities and skills to see if you are fit to rule our land. During the day, you will compete in Prince Kaede’s presence so we can see how you interact with both him and his court.
” Ji gestured to himself and the noblemen and women we’d been sharing our evening with.
“Those events will include feasting and dancing, like tonight’s festivities, as well as other opportunities to socialize and showcase your graceful attributes.
After dark, you will be tested in other ways.
Since you arrived in the night, your first test is combined.
You already interacted with the prince..
.and now we will see how you carry yourselves among his court during a celebration. ”
His tone changed, and I tensed, preparing for the worst.
“It is during these trials that we will search for the qualities we deem most necessary in a future queen. Courage, cleverness, the ability to thrive in our land among our people and our magic...” He waved his hand airily. “I think you gather my meaning.”
Nearby, Molly sucked in a breath. “Magic?” she whispered. “Does he mean they are going to test how we handle magic?” The fear in her eyes made it clear that she gave at least a little credence to the stories about fae she’d doubtless grown up with.
“You will also be expected to participate in all of our tests. Trying to leave our competition or avoid a test will draw consequences.” Flashing a smile at odds with his warning tone and signaling for the musicians to resume playing, Ji cried, “Now, continue to enjoy our hospitality!”
Fae swept forward onto the dance floor, pairing off or walking toward us to claim a contestant as a partner. Molly lingered at my side as I browsed one of the refreshment tables, wanting a moment away from the chaos to clear my thoughts and analyze Ji’s announcement.
“My family made me come to Willowbark,” Molly fretted as she trailed me.
I cast her a compassionate look, understanding her pain all too well.
“They insisted it is my only hope for a secure match, and since my father is ill and my cousin is to inherit everything, he and Mother said our time is running out for me to secure my future.” She wrung her fingers.
I wanted to encourage her, but everything sounded false in my head.
Just then, riotous shouting interrupted us.
I scanned the party, realizing more fae had joined from I-knew-not-where, perhaps invited from the palace itself.
Moonlight streamed through the far windows, the late hour seeming to only encourage them as they gulped golden wine and grew louder and more exuberant.
Florian was nowhere to be found, having followed Kaede out some time ago.
If he had been sincere in his offer of friendship, my only possible ally among these immortals was gone.
“Dance, dance!” a woman with sparkling wings cried, laughing as one of the mortal contestants obeyed her, her feet pounding against the floorboards, her skirt twirling about her ankles.
It was Emily. My stomach soured when I noticed the glazed look in her eyes.
Another contestant—Charlotte—was kissing one of the nobles, which I was certain wasn’t something she would have chosen to do of her own volition when she was trying to claim the prince.
A third gulped the fae wine offered her, golden liquid dribbling off her chin.
Harsh laughter surrounded us, and I scanned the room anxiously for Callista. “They’re glamouring us,” I warned Molly, who watched the unfolding events in horror, her complexion turning ghostly pale.
Laura climbed upon a chair to dance as fae circled her, clapping along to the beat of her stomping feet. Firelight gleamed in her blonde hair as she plucked it from its knot to let it stream freely down her back.
The fae themselves had grown rowdy, some giving themselves to base desires and excess—coupling off to grope each other shamelessly, devouring rich fruits and wines that had been brought out for them to gorge themselves on, or turning violent.
Some shoved one another or traded insults, but other altercations grew worse.
A few traded blows. A man that appeared to be half-goblin drew a knife.
Before I saw what happened to his intended victim, a contestant fell against a refreshment table, tipping wineglasses that shattered in a shower of multicolored liquid. The slivers of glass cut her arms, leaving drops of blood behind, but instead of crying out, she giggled shrilly.
“It doesn’t even hurt!” she said.
A woman with doe ears laughed cruelly. “No? Pick up some more glass and cut yourself.”
The contestant obeyed, bending down to retrieve a piece of glass. It bit into her fingertips, staining them red.
“Now take that knife!” the doe-eared woman demanded, her too-sharp teeth flashing.
The lady reached for a dinner knife, pressing it to her palm at the fae’s command and watching her own blood drip onto the floor.
I pressed through the dancing couples, scanning the scene for my sister. If I could prepare her, warn her...
She was laughing and dancing among the fae, twirling in a group. Her hair was down, her cheeks rosy from exertion, and her mouth stained with gold. Heart in my throat, I tried to catch her eye, wondering if it was too late for her to be reasoned with.
“Here, eat this.” The smooth, lilting tone washed over me like a balm, soothing worries and making all my previous thoughts seem hazy and distant.
I turned toward the sound, eyeing a man with rich black hair and searingly bright blue eyes as he extended his hand to me.
In his palm lay a perfectly round fruit, its flesh smooth and glistening and a dark shade of indigo but for the veins of silver shimmering along its surface.
Poisonous, my mind screamed, but that warning was quiet compared to the lulling influence of the man’s words drawing me to the food he offered.
It looked delicious, like one bite would fill me with joy and peace, making me forget all my fears and pains and regrets. I could lose myself in its decadent taste and the wild beat of the music.
“Good girl. You know it’ll taste much better than your mortal food.”
He’s glamouring you. Icy fingers of dread crept up my spine, combating the effects of his influence. Fight it.
I gritted my teeth, considering how to resist. I’d been taught in Emberglade that, since glamour was all about illusion and control, a human could snap the power a fae had over their thoughts and actions by sharing a secret.
Something startling and true, something more powerful than the deceitful thoughts and feelings and visions the fae was weaving.
Of course, my darkest, most devastating secret was one I could not utter here.
That would claim my life as surely as the fruit I now accepted, running my fingers along its smooth surface.
My mouth watered as I imagined biting into its flesh, a tart yet sweet flavor bursting across my tongue, satisfying all my wants, my hunger, my thirst. I’d never need anything else again.
Callista, Callista. I kept repeating my sister’s name to myself, my reason for being here, the reason I had to keep fighting and try to make it back home. I hoped it would help drown out the other thoughts, keeping me from lifting the fruit to my mouth.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I drew it toward my lips, inhaling its sweet aroma. Tantalizing. Inviting. How could something so lovely be deadly? Maybe the stories were wrong...
Callista, Callista, Callista!
Sweat beaded on my brow. I opened my mouth, my thoughts at war. Glamour and my own will vied for dominance, and it seemed almost as if I didn’t even have control of my own body anymore.
Inhaling deeply, I squeezed the fruit. “I resent my sister for always getting what she wants and being catered to while I am forced to sacrifice for her.” The words came out in a single breath, my cheeks heating with the shame of my confession.
It was something I’d hardly dared to let myself admit to myself, let alone say aloud.
Opening my eyes, I tossed the fruit to the floor, listening to it roll away. The man stared at me, his gaze unreadable and his brow furrowed, as if he were confused by what I’d just done to break his glamour.
An indignant huff drew my attention to the side, where Callista herself stood, eyes wide and horrified and glistening with tears. Her hands were fisted at her sides, trembling with rage and hurt. She whirled and tore across the ballroom.
“Callista, wait!” I cried, slipping on spilled wine and colliding with dancing figures as I tried to catch up to her.
Screams rose above the music and laughter, piercing my ears.
Glass shattered. I turned to find one of the women whose name I’d already forgotten lying still on the floor, her complexion unnaturally pale, her hand clutching the fruit I’d just discarded.
A single bite marred its surface. Her glazed eyes stared at the ceiling.
It had taken her almost instantly.