Page 112 of The Chains You Defy

The malevolent heat morphed into a murderous snarl, the one where people commonly found excuses to leave the room—or the country—so they weren’t in the near or far vicinity of the very angry, far too powerful, and morally compromised fae prince.

And if I were honest, Dion spotting Thain sitting across from me didn’t exactly help. Hopefully, I only imagined the growl hovering in the air. Gods, if he exploded during the first minute of the event, we would be in so much trouble that I couldn’t even grasp the severity of the consequences.

Finally, he turned his attention away from our table and led this Danartha, who held herself as if she were a queen, to the high table, his jaw clenched so tight I was half afraid he would never be able to relieve the tension in his facial muscles again. He lounged down to the right of Galrach, not even bothering with helping the female into the chair next to him. She glared a hole in his head until a member of the staff hurried to save her.

As soon as the royals had placed themselves, everyone relaxed and assumed their seating as well.

Wine was served, but the commoner’s table was obviously undeserving of anything other than the warm, stale water that stood next to the food in a simple carafe. A servant who hovered nearby pondered if he should approach the two fae in my company and was stared away byIreas.

“Ireas, since when are you so unfriendly?”

“Since open bigotry is obviously a thing.”

“You don’t have to—”

My attempt to convince my friends to go enjoy themselves and leave me to my own devices was interrupted by the king getting up, demanding silence without raising his voice. Controlling a crowd with cutting glares alone seemed to run in the family.

Only when not even the slightest rustle was ringing out anymore did Galrach start to speak. “Welcome, esteemed loyalists, to this very special winter solstice ball. Although this event is a longstanding tradition at Alaiann Palace, this season, our revelry is touched by an occurrence no one would have thought possible. But then again, who else could surprise all of you with his accomplishments if not my own heir? He took the challenge upon himself to embark on a quest, armed with the burning wish in his heart to ensure the ongoing safety of the Eternal Throne and his High King’s mighty reign. With the greatest pleasure, I announce that my grandson Scriosta recently successfully conducted the Rite of Binding, a feat that, as everyone knows here, has not been achieved for decades. So, let us all toast to my scion and to the power he wields for his king and kingdom.”

Dion’s whole body went taut, his face contorted into a mask of rage, but he schooled his expression quickly.

Next to him, Danartha almost burst with pride, as if she were the one being celebrated instead of the prince. She beamed at him as if he were her world, and my stomach revolted, even though he ignored her completely.

After the toast, Galrach placed a hand on Dion’s shoulder as he sat down and muttered some words in his direction. The prince’s lips morphed into a slim line,but he curtly dipped his chin at his grandfather, then shrugged and snarled something to Danartha.

No, this ball wasn’t a dream but a nightmare. However, I wished I already knew how much more horror the occasion would bring.

The feast was a drawn-out affair. Servers carried in course after course, each more lavish than the last, but, as anticipated, none of the food was served to us. Forcing myself not to dwell on the scents of aromatic spices and dishes, I nursed my water with feigned disinterest, and I only wanted to cry once—when the dessert arrived, drenching the whole ballroom in a heavy cloud of chocolate.

My mouth watered, but obviously, fancy fae food would be wasted on the human scum.

Two hours later, the servers finally cleared the remnants of the dinner from the tables.

Notours, though, and the plate formerly holding the bread and cheese that Ireas, Thain, and I had shared stayed put.

But my attention was soon dragged away as Dion led a preening Danartha to the floor for the first dance.

My chest burned with an intensity that had me doubling over, and I was about to divert my eyes when his gaze crossed mine. Something flared in his expression, and I hurried to school mine into as much neutrality as I could muster, giving him a tight little smile.

Dion was on edge. I could tell as much, and I did my best to de-escalate him from afar despite my displeasure about the whole situation. He needed to read in my face that, although I hated how both of us were treated—and how inadequate I was compared to the gorgeous fae female next to him—I understood what role he had to play.

If he sensed the truth about how miserable I was, he might lose the pitiful restraint he owned, and then everything up until now would have been in vain. Steeling my features, none of the intrusive demons drilling into my mind showed.

Gods, why did seeing him dancing with Danartha hurt so badly?

There was a lot wrong with me minding their merriment, and I neither wanted that nor had any right to feel so strongly about the female fae. Yes, she was so much more beautiful than I, had sent beauty products to Dion’s chamber, and, not that it mattered at all, had spent several intimate encounters with him.

My throat bobbed as I observed the two of them remaining on the floor for the second and third dances, and I liked Danartha less and less.

When the princeling still kept the female in his arms when the fourth dance began, I dragged my gaze away and rubbed my chest. My sour mood declined rapidly.

“Carthain, what are you doing here at this dreary table?”

Spinning my head to the newcomer’s voice, I straightened my spine and, with all the determination I could muster, slipped my mask back on.

The male wore cream-colored finery in a style not unlike Thain’s, and he was hugging the redhead with great familiarity.

If he were human, I’d guess he was in his third decade of life. His face held a certain softness, and his snow-white hair flowed down to his shoulders. His citrine eyes stayed firmly locked on Thain, ignoring both Ireas, who huffed as he crossed his arms, and me.