A Court Bright and Broken (Age of Fae #1)

13. An Interesting Start

Chapter 13

An Interesting Start

R aewyn

Though the coach was as comfortable as a featherbed, my nerves jangled for the entire ride, anticipating the night to come.

They really started clanging when my carriage reached the palace gates.

I was about to see things I’d only ever read about—a room full of beautiful gowns like my own, gentlemen in fancy clothes, all manner of food and drink, not to mention the inside of the spectacular palace.

I might also catch a glimpse of the royal family—the Randalins.

Seaspire Castle in the royal city of Merisola served as not only the seat of power in Avrandar but also the home of the dreaded King Pontus and his family.

On the plus side, there was also a chance I’d see Sam again, or whatever his name was in reality. Since he’d invited me to the ball, I assumed he planned to attend as well.

Would he recognize me instantly the way Tindra had? I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t—I hardly recognized myself.

The guards at the gatehouse didn’t even stop the driver and ask to see an invitation, simply waving us through. Perhaps the elaborate carriage and fine horse were permission enough?

No such luck at the ballroom entrance, though. Several men dressed in royal servant uniforms of navy and turquoise asked for and inspected invitations from each guest before allowing them entry.

The nerve clanging was so loud now my heartbeat nearly drowned out the enchanting music drifting from the open ballroom doors and the conversations of the people in line around me.

And by people I meant Elves. They were everywhere.

I’d seen some at a distance in the village Sam and I had walked through, but these were so close —close enough that I could reach out and touch them if I wanted to.

Close enough they could reach me .

I made an effort to act like I was used to circumstances like this—elegant, glamorous. Surrounded by powerful and dangerous Elves.

The woman in front of me sounded very dangerous indeed. Apparently there was some question about the legitimacy of her invitation.

A haughty looking butler turned it side to side, back to front, looking down his nose at it. All the while she spit threats and insults at him.

“Do you know who I am ?” she yelled. “Do you know who my father is? I am by far the best candidate to be the prince’s bond-mate out of all the women here.”

Bond-mate? Was that the purpose of this ball—helping the Crown Prince find a bride?

“Nevertheless,” the butler responded in a bored sounding tone. “This does not appear to be an official invitation. It’s a fake.”

He nodded to a pair of armored soldiers standing nearby. They moved swiftly, grabbing the loudly protesting woman and escorting her away.

To where? Her carriage?

A dungeon?

I started looking around for an escape route. My own invitation hardly looked official. It was hastily written and not even signed with a full name—only the letter S.

No one would notice if I left the line and slipped out the nearest exit, would they?

And then there was no more line.

It was my turn to present my invitation.

If I ran now, I would certainly out myself as a pretender. There was no course but to forge ahead and hope for the best.

Maybe the Earthwife had altered my invitation the same way she’d transformed me, sprinkling some of her magic onto it so it would fit in with the others.

With shaking fingers, I extracted the paper from my evening bag and handed it over to the intimidating butler.

Just as he had with the woman before me, he turned it over several times, squinted at it, scowled at it.

“This is very… irregular,” he said, and my heart dropped to my sparkling shoes. He glanced up at the armored guards, obviously preparing to call them forward.

“Where did you get this? It’s only signed with a single—”

Another man stepped out into the entry hall from inside the ballroom and plucked the invitation from the butler’s hand.

“With a P,” the newcomer said. “My handwriting is abominable .”

Dark-haired and exceedingly tall, the stranger shifted his gaze from the gatekeeper to me.

Everything stopped, as if the world had been flash-frozen.

No music drifting from the ballroom, no witty conversation around me. No air left in the room.

While I’d found Sam’s eyes exceptionally pretty, this man’s eyes literally stunned me. They were a shade of blue-green so vibrant they put the ocean outside the castle walls to shame.

There was certainly nothing like them to be found in the human world.

Ashamed to have been caught staring so blatantly, I clamped my gaping jaw shut and darted my eyes away, swallowing down the extra heartbeats bubbling up my throat.

When I dared to glance back a few seconds later, the man was still looking at me.

Then he blinked, and his wide mouth broke into a brilliant smile that caused my stomach to drop to the floor, bounce back up, and slam against my sternum.

Suddenly, he was in motion, coming toward me.

“There you are, darling,” he said, as if he’d been anticipating my arrival for hours.

Reaching me, he leaned down and kissed my cheek, drawing my hand into the crook of his arm and tucking it against his sizable bicep.

To the butler, he said, “I’ve been waiting for this one’s arrival. Carry on, Niland.”

What is going on?

The butler looked bewildered, and I was even more so as I stumbled along beside the dazzling stranger, who led me into the crowded ballroom.

There had to be hundreds of Elves in attendance, comprised of every size, shape, and skin shade. Maybe it was more than hundreds? I had never seen so many bodies in one place at one time.

Heart still hammering, I struggled to determine whether I was more disconcerted by the near-miss, the sights and sounds of the grand room we’d just entered, or by my escort’s appearance.

It was a close contest, but he won out.

I’d heard Elven men possessed an unearthly beauty. This one certainly did. In fact, even compared to the other men in my line of sight, he was superior.

Now that I wasn’t in imminent danger of ejection or imprisonment in a dank castle dungeon, I was able to breathe more deeply, calm myself, and take in the details of him.

He stood a head taller than most of the other men. Unlike many of them, who appeared to be dressed in the colors of their various homelands, he wore all black.

I’d never seen a male with such long hair, and I was surprised how masculine and attractive I found it. The raven locks fell halfway down his back, pulled back from his face to reveal a strong brow and prominent cheekbones.

I felt dwarfed by his wide shoulders, and keeping up with his long stride was a challenge, even with my magically lengthened legs.

He moved through the crowd with ease and confidence, nodding to a few guests who were obviously trying to catch his eye.

When we eventually stopped deep inside the ballroom, he turned and looked down at me. For a moment, every thought I had was wiped clean.

All I could do was stare at those cyan eyes, mesmerized by their blend of sea and sky. It was the kind of unforgettable color that resonated through you and left a lasting mark.

My companion gave me another smile, which didn’t help my discombobulation one bit. His mouth was perfectly formed, the ideal combination of strength and softness. The line of his jaw was powerful and sharp, like the rest of his features.

Though the total effect was beautiful, he was the most masculine -looking man I’d ever seen. He made the men in my village look like barely grown boys in comparison.

“Are you all right, my lady?” he asked, a slight line forming between his dark eyebrows.

The sudden frown and the sound of his deep voice shook me out of my daze. How long had I been staring?

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Why did you… help me? Why did you lie back there?” I asked, finding myself a bit tongue-tied in his presence.

The breathtaking grin came back. “Should I not have? Are you a spy sent here to assassinate us?”

He laughed out loud, then his remarkable eyes warmed and crinkled at the edges, which only made his visual appeal stronger.

“Had a good feeling about you,” he said with a shrug. “What’s your name?”

“R—it’s Wyn.”

After I said it, I panicked. Was that an acceptable name for an Elven woman or had I just revealed my deception?

No doubt this man’s “good feeling” would disappear instantly if he knew I was human and not Elven. He’d probably spit on me and escort me to the dungeon himself.

“What a lovely name, fitting for the loveliest woman I’ve seen tonight,” he said, then brought my hand up to his lips. “My esteem shines upon you.”

Instead of pecking the back of it, he surprised me by turning it over and pressing a soft kiss to the inside of my wrist.

A fluttery feeling, the likes of which I’d never experienced before, filled my belly and chest, like a flock of birds all lifting off the ground at once. I sucked in a sharp breath.

Hearing it, my escort chuckled and gave me a perceptive wink. He knew how he affected me and seemed to be enjoying it.

This man was the very definition of a rogue. I’d never admired such qualities before, but I’d be lying if I said he had no effect on me.

It had to be that Elven glamour I’d heard about.

But why was he expending it on me ? I looked around the room, spotting, oh several hundred women—and men—prettier than myself. Many of them had their eyes on my companion, staring with obvious longing.

Maybe it was the Earthwife’s spell making him so flirtatious. Or perhaps this was how he acted all the time with everyone?

Magic or not, rogue or not, I was lucky this stranger had come along when he had.

“Thank you,” I said. “And thank you for helping me at the doorway. I really was invited, I promise. The invitation was only signed with an initial, but it was legitimate.”

The guy chuckled. “I believe you. May I offer you some refreshment?”

He gestured toward a collection of large round tables to one side of the room. They were laden with more food than I’d ever seen in my whole life—cumulatively.

Just one of the tables could probably have fed my entire village for months.

“Perhaps later,” I said. “I’ve only just arrived.”

It wouldn’t do to begin the ball by diving face-first into platters of food, would it? Besides, I saw no sweets that I could stuff into my purse for the girls. Perhaps the kitchen staff would bring them out later in the evening.

“Quite right. Would you care to dance then?” he asked.

The Elven music was mesmerizing, the sound of it sweet and dangerous all at once, like no music I’d ever heard. I felt an almost irresistible pull to say yes and join him on the dance floor and just let my body move to it.

But eying the couples performing intricate steps and coordinated hand movements in the center of the room, I shook my head.

I didn’t know that dance or many others. Perhaps the Fae had entirely different dances than we did, and I wouldn’t know a single one. It was unfortunately a little late to think about that wrinkle in the plan.

“No, I don’t think so. I’m… tired from the carriage ride here. It was quite long.”

It had only been two hours, but he didn’t need to know that. For all he knew, I was visiting from the most distant Fae township, wherever that might be.

“I understand,” he said. “There are some comfortable benches along that wall.”

He pointed to the other side of the room. “I’ll escort you there, and we can sit and talk.”

Lands, he was persistent. And quite charming.

His smile was tying my insides into knots that would take weeks to unravel.

If I lived that long.

I needed to excuse myself and get away from this man before we got into actual conversation, during which I was sure to get lost in those tourmaline eyes and say the wrong thing, revealing my ruse.

Before I could open my mouth to ask where the washrooms were, another man approached us, smiling widely. He looked vaguely familiar. Tall and big-boned, his height was almost equal to my unlikely suitor’s.

“Good evening, brother,” he said. “And who is this lovely lady? You did well .”

When I heard his voice, I recognized him. It was Sam, my marketplace acquaintance. It took effort to keep my mouth from dropping open.

Having only seen him filthy and bloodied, I would never have predicted he’d clean up this well.

His glacier-blue eyes were so much brighter now that they weren’t swollen and ringed with bruises. The nose that had been broken that day was once again straight and elegant.

The dirty blond hair I’d seen in the Rough Market wasn’t dirty anymore. Falling just to his shoulders, it was a slightly wavy golden blond with a few lighter sunstreaks at the crown and framing his temples.

Damn these Elven men and their unsporting camouflage.

They were already so much more powerful than us—did they really need the extra advantage of being impossibly good-looking?

There was no recognition at all in his eyes when he looked at me. The Earthwife’s disguise spell seemed to be working on him.

My escort frowned at Sam, who was apparently his brother.

“She’s not for you, Stellon,” he said.

Stellon .

That’s what the S had stood for?

All the breath left my lungs, making it impossible to speak. Could this be Prince Stellon? Or was that a common name among Elven men?

I had to admit it fit him better in his current form than Sam did.

“ I’ll be the judge of that, Pharis,” Stellon said, lifting my free hand to kiss my knuckles.

Pharis? That was the name of the king’s other son.

So this was Crown Prince Stellon Randalin who’d just touched his lips to my skin.

And my escort, my savior at the entry door, was none other than the wicked Prince Pharis.

Stories of him had spread throughout the lands. He was known as the Prince of Tears because of all the hearts he’d broken. Even human women discussed his famously attractive looks—and his reputation as a prolific and talented lover, speculating about what it would be like to meet him in person.

And now here he was, standing in front of me.

Papa was so right—treachery was sometimes wrapped in the most beautiful package.

I’d heard less talk about the Crown Prince, but he couldn’t be much better. He was King Pontus’ son after all.

They both were.

Somehow, out of all the Fae in this crowded ballroom, I had run directly into the two I’d wanted most to avoid.

If I’d known the man I’d met in the marketplace was a Randalin, I’d have run in the other direction.

He’d probably realized that.

Which made me suspect that he might not have been suffering from memory loss after the attack and had pretended amnesia, withholding his full name on purpose.

Why had he even been there that day? And dressed like a pauper? It made no sense.

I had no intention of sticking around to ask him, but he bowed and held out his hand.

“My esteem shines upon you, my lady. May I have the honor of this dance?”

Wonderful.

Refusing a dance with the Crown Prince was probably frowned upon, to say the least.

Pharis narrowed his gaze, pinning his brother with a glare and tucking my hand more firmly against his bicep.

“You asked me to help you, if you’ll remember —and I’m trying,” he said. “She’s not the one.”

Stellon grinned at him. “It seems our sister was wrong. We’re not so different after all. Were you two about to dance? Or take refreshment?”

Pharis looked down at the floor then over at me, a questioning expression raising his eyebrows and his jaw shifting. He waited a long time to answer.

“No. But—”

Turning his gaze to me, Prince Stellon said, “Shall we?”

Inhaling deeply, I pried my hand away from Pharis, with whom I didn’t want to stay, and placed it in the hand of Stellon, with whom I didn’t want to go.

The ball was off to an interesting start.