Page 20 of The Never List (Never List #1)

Rylee

“I’ve brought in a selection of earring choices for you—” Mirren stops herself short as she rounds the corner, pausing with a velvet box in her hand. “You’re wearing red.”

I glance down at the dress I chose for tonight, running my hands over the fabric. The sleeves meet my wrists, but my shoulders are bare, the dress dipping slightly between my breasts before cinching over my torso and fanning out around my hips until it kisses the floor. A red leather belt adds some strength to the delicate details, the fabrics alternating between sheer red lace and luscious silk with elegant beadwork throughout.

“Do you think Kal will like it?” I ask, and not all the self-consciousness is for show. We’re in the room at the palace I stayed in that first night, dinner with the kings minutes away.

Mirren almost looks like she’ll smile, almost looks like she’ll give me an approving nod or a warm squeeze on the shoulder. But that’s not her, so instead, she purses her lips and crosses the room to meet me. “He might,” she says, holding the box out to me. “I’d wear these.” She points to a pair of ruby earrings that are simple and won’t take away from the dress.

“Thank you,” I say, putting them in. As usual, my blond hair is down, my mark covered. I made it an entire month with Kal studying every inch of my body and not noticing it. Makeup truly is a luxury I can’t afford to live without.

“Any advice?” I ask Mirren as she discards the box on my vanity and follows me toward the main doors of my rooms.

“Sit on Kal’s left,” she says as we pause at the door. “There will be options to sit near the kings, but the proper place of a mate is to the left.”

“What if all the Legends are present?”

“They won’t be tonight,” Mirren says. “But when they are, you’ll sit to the left of whoever has the open spot next to him.” I nod, my nerves tangling. “And if you can, be slow to react.”

I raise my brows.

“I quite enjoy your lack of filter,” she continues. “But not all the kings will appreciate your candor.”

My teeth grind together at the thought of the last time I met with the four kings. Baydel’s hands on my skin, entitled and sloppy and uninvited.

Memories flash through me of other uninvited hands, other unwanted touches, and I cringe. I wonder what Turner did when I didn’t meet him that night at midnight. I wonder if he’s read the royal post, seen the illustrations of my face paired with the Occuli’s stories about me. More than once, I’ve worried about him racing to the palace to reveal my identity to the kings, to the Legends, but he hasn’t. Or if he has, no action has been taken.

Apprehension tangles in my stomach, settling in a knot that is hard to breathe around. I force myself to work around it. If the time comes, I’ll deal with it then. For now, I can only be thankful that Lumathyst is a large kingdom with countless enforcers who don’t have direct access to the royals.

I have to stay on the path I’ve started.

One that leads me straight to the kings in a few seconds.

“One last thing,” Mirren says, holding out a small vial of contraceptive tonic. I take it from her and quickly knock it back, then return the vial to her waiting hand.

“Good luck,” Mirren says as I step through the doors. “I’ll be here when you get back.”I flash her a smile, trying to express how comforting her words are. Mirren may be feisty and harsh on the best of days, but she’s been a constant in this new life I’m living, and I adore her for it.

I turn a corner and slow my steps at the sight of Kal waiting outside the golden elevator doors. He looks so striking at the end of the hall, his crimson-and-black suit cut to the perfection of his tall, powerful body. His dark hair is slicked back, showing off the chiseled features of his face.

It’s only a heartbeat before he looks at me, nearly fumbling the small box in his hand. His blue eyes go wide as I reach him, and he places his free hand over his heart as if he’s at a loss for words.

“I…” A smile makes up for the words he can’t find. “You’re stunning,” he says, pride and warmth and something else beaming from him—something I can’t put my finger on but can feel in my heart, feel down that connection that buzzes to life in his presence.

“You look edible yourself,” I say, and he laughs. We stand there a few moments, but he doesn’t reach for the elevator button. “I wanted to ask you,” I say, still feeling slightly foolish for this. “Will you come with me tomorrow? At least for the first day or two?”

Kal dips his head. “I’ll stay with you for however long you want.”

I sigh with relief, happy to have that matter settled. I know Axl and I will need alone time together, but at least for these first few days, I’ll have Kal’s support.

“I had something I wanted to ask you, too,” he says, eyes on the small box in his hand. “I wanted to see if you might wear this tonight.” He tilts his head back and forth. “Or at least accept it.”

My heart races as he cracks the lid on the box.

I gasp at the sight. An oval ruby the size of a robin’s egg sits inside a platinum band with whirling details that flank the top and bottom of the stone.

“Kal,” I say, reaching for the ring but pulling my fingers back at the last moment.

“It’s my token,” he hurries to explain. “From me to you, reflecting on our time together, and a promise for the future.”

My eyes flicker up to meet his, and I choke on a response. Mirren told me about the Choosings before mine. None of the Legends have offered their tokens before. None of the potentials had earned it or they’d never given the princes the chance, rejecting them as soon as they could.

Does this mean Kal truly trusts me? Or is he doing it because he’s desperate for a mate after six years of failed Choosings?

“You’re not expected to choose me now,” he assures me, grounding me in the present, and I breathe a little easier. “Wearing this won’t mean as such,” he continues, “but it will signal to anyone who sees it that you are mine, even if you haven’t declared that I am yours.”

I close my eyes as emotions claw up my throat, and I inwardly search through them. Longing, pride, warmth, and desire with a hint of fear. If I was a normal girl from Cedar and Silk with no hidden powers to speak of, I’d take this ring without a second thought. Kal has shown me nothing but kindness, understanding, and a hefty dose of passion these last few weeks. If I was a normal citizen of Lumathyst, I wouldn’t hesitate to snatch this ring right out of his hand.

And that’s who I need to be…who I want to be in this moment.

I open my eyes, smiling up at Kal. “I’d love to wear it,” I say, tears threatening the backs of my eyes.

Kal looses a breath, his smile infectious as he slips the ring out of the box and reaches for my right hand. He slips it on the ring finger there, and the fit is perfect. I marvel at the slight weight of the stone, at the significance it bears. I’ve never owned a piece of jewelry before, and here I’m drowning in options, but this? This is special, coveted. I’ve spent enough time with Kal that I decide to wear it proudly.

“I’ll never take it off,” I say, and he draws me in for a kiss.

But you may rip it off my finger once you figure out what I really am.

I silence the painful voice, losing myself in Kal’s lips.

“Are you ready?” he asks, breaking our kiss too soon.

I nod, and he pushes the button. The elevator doors glide open immediately.

Kal loops my arm through his, his eyes darting to me every few seconds before he chuckles to himself.

“What is it?” I finally ask as we ride the elevator up and up and up.

“That dress,” he groans. “You’re always a challenge.”

“How so?”

“How am I supposed to sit through this likely boring dinner with you looking like that?” he asks.

I bite back a grin. “We could always come up with an excuse to leave early.”

“Fuck, Rylee,” he says on a whisper. “You have no idea—”

The doors slide open, stealing the rest of his sentence.

“Kal!” Jullian Erhart—Kal’s father—calls from the spacious dining hall, all glittering gold and sparkling diamond tones.

“Father,” Kal answers, ushering us through a foyer and into the elegant room. The double doors of the dining hall close behind us. A long, rectangular table large enough to host forty people dominates the center of the space, with smaller tables fanning out around the room’s edges. They’re all empty, of course, but I suspect this is where the kings host grand events for their beloved dukes and earls.

I try to put that out of my mind as Kal stops at the table, releasing me to greet his father with a hug. Brooks Bertrand—Pierce’s father—flashes me a soft, calculative smile as he stands next to Jullian Erhart. Baydel Lavine and Lucas Dawson stand behind their chosen seats in the middle of the table, facing us.

“Your majesty,” I say, nearly forgetting to bow and doing so quickly when Kal’s father turns his attention on me.

“Please, call me Jullian,” he begs, his hands gentle at my elbows as he urges me to rise. “And no bowing tonight.”

Baydel coughs harshly across from us, and I swear I see a hint of annoyance in Jullian’s eyes. “They’re here,” Baydel says flatly. “Let’s eat.”

I wait to sit until the kings have taken their four spots on the other side of the table. Kal elects to sit right across from his father, which puts me directly in front of Baydel when I sit on Kal’s left.

Perfect.

I try not to squirm as Baydel’s eyes linger on my neckline, then my breasts. He’s not making any effort to hide it, either. Jullian is too busy catching up with his son to notice, while Brooks and Lucas seem utterly bored as our dinner is served.

“Did you enjoy my son’s city?” Jullian asks once we’re well into the meal.

I slow my eating, swallowing the bite of roast duck before I answer. “It’s a dream,” I say, winking at Kal.

Jullian offers a genuine smile. “What was your favorite part?”

I set down my fork, contemplating. Flashes of my time in the city race through my mind, so many of those delights involving his son pounding me into oblivion. I highly doubt he wants me to say that .

“The food,” I admit, and Jullian and Kal both laugh. Brooks and Lucas join in, but Baydel looks less than amused from behind his wine goblet. “I’m a sucker for a good meal,” I say, indicating the plate before me while I take another bite.

“The food,” Baydel repeats, setting down his goblet a little forcefully. “Not the resources he’s acquired to keep us alive and fed during wartimes or harsh seasons? Not the Ruby Players, the musicians, or the artists that keep the city economically growing? Not the people who worship the ground he walks on?”

“Baydel,” Jullian says in a warning tone, but Baydel just waves him off.

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from responding, have to look down at the napkin in my lap to keep from glaring. The hatred and disappointment roll off Baydel in waves, yet I can’t find a fuck to give. The man has never earned my respect, thanks to the way he treats the Ashlands, but he crossed a line the first night we met. We’ll never agree, never see eye to eye, and never get along.

But in order to survive this, I have to play my part to perfection.

I clear my throat. “Of course,” I say in a sugary sweet voice I only use when I need to appear weak to powerful men. “I’m fascinated at all Kal and his people have achieved. The increased production of that food I adore so much will be a welcome supplement to the lower cities who don’t have as much as you do here. The way he and his people have learned new ways to grow healthier and more abundant crops is astounding. And his investment into those who wish to study and master the arts will continue to spread beyond Lumathyst. Those who might not believe they can provide for themselves by doing something they love will cross oceans to live in the Dreamer’s territory.” I flash adoring eyes at Kal. “I can easily see the great things he’ll do when he ascends the throne.” I meet Baydel’s gaze on the last part, unable to resist. He blinks, almost a jolt as he interprets the meaning behind my words.

I choose them, and you’re no longer the biggest bad in Lumathyst.

I giggle then, slipping into the role I’ve played so many times for the enforcers—a thoughtless, silly little girl. “But have you tasted the brioche toast at Constance’s?” I ask. “The sugar-and-cream combo is to die for.”

Jullian and Brooks laugh, the two of them giving me approving nods.

“Brioche toast,” Baydel says, shaking his head as he tucks back into his meal. “What a winner my son selected,” he mumbles between bites, rolling his eyes.

Oh, you have no idea , I think as anger rises beneath my skin. Even now, I can feel every facet of the air in this room, can sense how much there is and how easy it would be to steal and command as my own. One thought, and I could have Baydel choking for a breath that is no longer available to him.

I quash the idea, knowing his powers infinitely outweigh mine. I felt them that first night and have zero desire to feel them again—no matter how satisfying it would be to watch his pallid skin turn purple for even a few precious seconds.

The table falls into simpler conversation as Jullian asks what Kal showed me this past month. We’re halfway through a delicious vanilla-and-berry concoction when the doors swing open.

“I’m sorry to interrupt dessert,” an enforcer says as he sprints to Baydel’s side, his facial expression looking like he doesn’t care in the slightest that he interrupted dessert. In fact, he looks as if he was instructed to be here at this exact moment.

My eyes wander to the back of the room, where the kings’ elite enforcers stand at attention near the bank of windows that allow glimpses of the royal city. The men don’t budge at the sudden intrusion.

“You wanted to be informed when this information came through.” The enforcer hands Baydel a scroll with a black wax seal. He takes it, dismissing the guard without even a thank you .

“Something important?” Kal asks, casually pushing away his dessert and shifting his thigh toward me under the table.

Adrenaline spikes in my blood, my senses feeding off Kal’s position. Are we going to have to run? Fight? Is this another test for my potential mate status?

Baydel swipes his finger beneath the wax seal, breaking it before skimming the thin black writing on the scroll we can’t see. “Quite,” he says. “I had our researchers do some digging into your potential. Figured you’d want to know more about the woman you’ve been doting on, as do we all.”

My skin tightens, and I go deadly still.

On the outside, I don the mask of the thoughtless girl with a smile on her face. On the inside?

I’m spiraling.

This is it.

I’m finished.

I can’t stop myself from looking at the ring resting on my right hand. Kal gave this to me as a symbol of him choosing me. Maybe he’ll see past the truth; maybe he won’t condemn me for lying.

History begs to differ—an entire generation of demis condemned after a bloody war, their ancestors paying for their rebellion long after their bodies had turned to dust. Generations of Ashlanders being the bane of Lumathyst’s existence yet vital to their wealth.

My hopes are dashed as quickly as they rise. I heard Kal and the Legends speaking about the Ashlanders the other day. There is no escaping what’s to come.