Page 99
“Please tell Lord Hamar that I’m honored,” Fane told Roald. “Deeply so. But I’m not interested.”
“You’d choose the fada female over a pureblood fae?”
“I would.” Fane swallowed. “I do.”
Oh, Fane.
“Try these.” The king appeared at Marjani’s elbow with a small plate of appetizers.
“Thank you.” She forced herself to smile and accept the plate.
A female elf in a flowing green tunic and striped leggings came forward and bowed to Sindre. “Dinner is served, your highness.”
He nodded and flicked his fingers. A long wooden table materialized in the center of the room, its gleaming surface set with heavy silver chargers topped with paper-fine ivory porcelain.
Down the center snaked an ice sculpture of intricately carved flowers and vines lit by cut-glass votives.
The finishing touch was the tiny fae lights that drifted down to arch over the table in a sparkling bower.
Marjani gaped. She’d bet there were only a few fae in the entire world who could teleport an object that large without even touching it. Good lord, the man was powerful.
“Well,” she muttered, “that’s handy.”
The king’s lean cheek creased. “The elves prepare the table in the kitchen. I just ’port it in.”
They took their seats, Roald to Sindre’s right and Marjani to his left. Arne took the chair on her other side with Fane across the table next to his grandfather.
She met Fane’s eyes. He lowered one eyelid in a wink, and she dropped her gaze to her plate.
“Prosecco?” asked the elf in the green tunic, and when Marjani nodded, the elf removed her empty goblet and set a glass of sparkling wine in its place.
The first course arrived, delicate spring greens topped with walnuts and cranberries. She ate the salad and sipped her prosecco as the fae gossiped about people she didn’t know. Cat’s balls, she just wanted this to be over with.
But she knew the fae. She might as well enjoy her dinner, because Sindre would get to things in his own good time. And the more time her quartz had to recharge, the better.
Arne launched into a story about his travels that had everyone grinning and shaking their heads. Sindre leaned back in his chair, smiling with the rest, but his glittering gray eyes kept turning to her. She felt like a rabbit staked out for a wolf.
The second course arrived, a dish with cod and berries and some other ingredients she couldn’t name, but it was delicious. More wine was served, but Marjani switched to water. She needed to keep her head clear.
Roald murmured something to the king about Blaer, and Sindre said, “She’s no longer at the court.”
Roald lifted a brow. “She got away?”
Sindre’s mouth hardened. “Lady Blaer has been stripped of her position as my advisor and banished from the court for a year and a day.”
All around the table, brows shot up.
Marjani exchanged a look with Fane. That was good news. She concentrated on buttering a roll. “And the man from my clan?”
Sindre moved a shoulder. “I don’t keep track of Blaer’s servants.”
Her fingers clenched on the butter knife. “He’s not her servant. He’s her prisoner.”
“Is he?” Sindre sipped his wine. “He accepted her geas . I can tell you this—he’s not in the castle. I assume he left with her.”
“I see.” She set down her roll and stared at her half-eaten fish.
Further down the table, a man laughed, and her stomach turned over, the rich food threatening to come back up. That these fae could sit here in their expensive clothes and jewels, and eat and drink and laugh as if Luc meant nothing.
Her fangs pricked her gums. The cat wanted to taste some fae blood—and she was tempted to let it.
Fane set down his fork. She shot him a fierce stay-where-you-are glance.
A hand touched her back. Arne, in a quick gesture of comfort. “Did I tell you the story about the human and the pot of gold?” he asked the king.
“Yes,” said Sindre, “but I don’t think our guest has heard it.”
Marjani released her breath. She only half-heard the story, a long, involved tale of a man who’d do anything to get rich, even trap an elf, but she silently blessed Fane’s dad for giving her a chance to calm herself.
The elves cleared away the second course and served the next, a small steak surrounded by mushrooms in a wine sauce. The meat was so tender it practically melted in Marjani’s mouth, but she only managed to eat a few pieces.
A few more courses followed, interspersed with tiny glasses of sorbet to clear the palette, but Marjani couldn’t even pretend to enjoy the food.
It was funny, during the Darktime there’d been times when she’d been so hungry, she’d have done almost anything for a meal like this.
Now, though, she just wanted this interminable dinner to be over.
She checked her quartz. The energy level had reached thirty-five percent, still too low.
At a nod from the king, the elves cleared the table. A cheeseboard was passed and after-dinner drinks served.
In an unguarded moment, she glanced at Fane. Their gazes snagged, and she felt his concern.
That’s when it hit her. With Luc gone, Sindre had nothing to hold over her—exceptFane. What if the king realized they were mates? Or at least, that the bond was a possibility.
He uses mates against each other. Hurts one to bend the other to his will. And it wouldn’t be her that Sindre would hurt—it would be Fane.
She wrenched her gaze from Fane’s, heart thundering in her ears. From somewhere far away, she heard Sindre say, “Are you finished?”
She nodded and they rose, followed by the rest of the company. They drifted to the couches and sat in small groups, but the king guided her to a more private spot near the leafless trees. The place between her shoulder blades itched—behind them, Fane was watching.
“Your dinner was satisfactory?” Sindre asked.
“Yes.” She forced herself to focus on him.
“Good. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Clothes. Jewelry. Just speak to Jewel or one of the elves. You’ll find I’m a generous man.”
“Are you?”
His gaze was on her mouth. She nervously moistened her lips, and he leaned close, his mouth a whisper from hers.
“Emeralds,” he murmured. “Or rubies. They’d look stunning with your skin and eyes.”
Arne and Fane approached from the side. Fane had that determined look on his face, the one that said he’d decided on a course of action and nothing would change his mind.
Her stomach lurched. She was running out of time.
She angled her body toward Sindre. “Emeralds?”
“Mm.” He stroked a cold finger down her cheek.
She captured his wrist and made herself smile up at him. “Why don’t we go somewhere less…crowded?”
Behind her, she heard Fane’s sharp inhale.
Sindre’s answering smile was smug. “You read my mind.”
Fane pushed himself between her and the king. “Enough, Sindre. Let the woman go. She’s done nothing to deserve this.”
The room went silent, save for the hushed, otherworldly music. The temperature dropped. Goosebumps prickled Marjani’s bare arms. “Fane.”
His look seared her. “I’ll be damned if I let you take his geas .”
The king’s eyes narrowed at his envoy. “I see you’ve decided today is a good day to die.”
Her entire spine tightened. “ No ,” she rasped.
Fane narrowed his eyes right back at Sindre. “She doesn’t want you. She wants me.”
“My lord.” Arne slung an arm around Fane’s shoulders and eased him backward. “I apologize for my son. He’s still young.”
Sindre’s perfect features could’ve been carved from marble. “Not too young to know he shouldn’t interfere with a negotiation.”
Roald shoved his way into their little group. “By the Goddess, boy. Have you lost your mind?”
Fane shook off Arne’s arm and glared back. “I’m. Not. A. Fucking. Boy.”
“Enough.” Sindre’s nostrils flared. “On your knees. Apologize to me, and I may let you live.”
Fane’s knees bent. With an effort, he locked them. His mouth opened and shut as he fought the order to apologize.
“No,” he gritted, tight-lipped. “I’ve done nothing to be sorry for. And I’ll be damned if I ever go on my knees to you again. I, Fane Morningstar, am breaking the geas .”
Roald’s fair skin reddened. “Like hell.”
“Fane!” Marjani said. “Stop this, damn it.”
Neither he nor the king seemed to hear her.
“You’d break your sworn oath?” Sindre asked. The already cool room grew even colder. A light snow began to fall.
“I am. And Marjani Savonett goes with me.” Fane grabbed her hand. “I’m claiming her. She’s mine. My mate.”
“And what does that leave me?” Sindre returned.
“You get everything I’ve earned since accepting the geas .”
“But I’d get that anyway,” he reminded Fane in silky tones. “Those are the terms you agreed to. No, I think I’ll keep the fada.”
Fane’s chin lifted. “Then take my Gift as well.”
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