Chapter 38
Torin and Rowena were dancing to a slow song, arms wrapped around each other with a level of intimacy no one else on the floor exhibited.
They were watching me in the wake of my conversation with Imogen, their blue eyes hostile behind matching gold masks.
The attire they’d chosen was halfway to armor—Torin’s white tunic was fronted with a circular plate of gold, while the bodice of Rowena’s snowy gown was covered with a metal chest piece that resembled a rib cage.
“Do you like to dance, Princess Kenna?” Rowena called out as I passed by.
I slowed, wondering what unpleasantness this would be. “In general, yes.”
She smiled. “You require a lot of practice, but I think you have the potential to be quite entertaining.”
I felt a bone-deep chill as I remembered the sort of “entertainment” Rowena enjoyed. “I don’t care what you think.”
Her smile expanded into a bright grin. “It’s a shame—things could have turned out differently for you.”
“Humans love lost causes,” Torin told her. “They run towards death so enthusiastically.”
“Indeed they do.” Rowena’s grin was wiped away as if it had never been. “I hope you enjoy your evening, Princess Kenna. Drink some wine. Think of the cost.”
They whirled away, gold and white disappearing into the sea of bodies.
The cost of what? Not the wine, though the ice wine Imogen had imported from Grimveld was certainly expensive. The cost of making enemies of the two of them, probably. I comforted myself with the knowledge that in just over two weeks, I would be free to kill them.
I politely declined a few offers to dance, feeling too unsettled to converse with strangers. Instead, I did what I had been dreading all night and sought out Drustan.
He was dancing, light-footed and athletic, drawing the usual admiring glances. He shone in head-to-toe copper that was only outmatched by the gleam of his hair falling loose down his back. In the light of the drifting faerie orbs, he was so radiant it nearly hurt my eyes.
Sorrow filled me as I watched him. The Prince of Fire, who shone brighter than anyone. Drustan’s schemes, his dreams, had brought us here, but I couldn’t follow him any further down that road.
He spun his partner into someone else’s arms, then turned towards me and held out his hand. His expression was inscrutable beneath his copper mask.
I took a steadying breath, then slipped my fingers into his hold, letting him pull me into the current of the dance.
We turned in a circle, hands linked. Then he brought me close, one hand at my waist. “You look lovely,” he murmured into my hair. “But then you always do.”
Another soft wave of grief moved through me. I forced myself to smile, because it seemed like something a princess should do in the arms of her ally, but the weight of that persona felt so heavy that my feet couldn’t quite keep up with the music. “You don’t need my compliments to know the same.”
“No, but I never tire of hearing them.” He gave me a rakish grin, but the mirth didn’t reach his eyes. “Thank you for what you did tonight. It’s always a risk to open house doors.”
“It was the right thing to do.”
“Not everyone cares about right or wrong.” His gaze tracked over the crowd. “Will our mutual friend be attending later?”
It was too risky to say Gweneira’s name out loud this close to others, even speaking as quietly as we were. “I imagine so. There are plans to be made.”
“There always are. Plans and schemes, webs to weave, victories to seize from defeat. And so on and on we go, repeating our paths like constellations in the sky.” His smile had faded.
Maybe the persona of the prince had grown too heavy for him, too.
When I missed a step, he slowed his movements, taking us out of time with the music. “I wish this had gone differently.”
What good was a wish? The village girls had made wishes in the bog, tossing coins in and asking for their dreams to be given to them.
The result was always an empty purse. I understood, though.
A wish was a type of regret, and I had plenty of those.
“We can’t change what happened tonight,” I told Drustan.
“We just need to regroup and find a new path forward.”
His eyes seemed silver in this light, like his entire being was composed of rare metals. “You’ve always embraced the difficult paths.”
“Were any of them going to be easy?”
He inclined his head. “Probably not.”
We were silent for a while, moving through the steps. A drunken couple careened past, laughing raucously, and he spun me out of the way.
“Choosing Kallen is a more difficult path than most,” he finally said.
The unexpected tangent surprised me. “I thought we were talking about what happened tonight.”
“Isn’t everything connected?” His eyes were sad. “You laugh with him the way you used to laugh with me.”
So he had been watching earlier. I didn’t know what to say to that.
He sighed, bowing his head closer to mine. “You could have been my queen, Kenna. You could still be my queen, if you wanted it. Think of the world we could build together.”
I stumbled, and he quickly picked me up, swinging me in a circle before setting me back down.
“Don’t say things like that,” I told him when I’d gotten my footing and my breath again.
Anger buzzed beneath my skin. “Don’t try to win me over with false promises.
You don’t love me, and you never will, because I’m not Mildritha. ”
He was quiet for a few moments. “Love isn’t a requirement.”
“For me it is.” I shook my head. “It should be for you, too.”
There were unfamiliar lines carved around his mouth. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m still capable of it.”
“Love?”
He nodded.
Some of my anger slipped away in the face of his honesty.
“I can’t answer that for you. But I think people who have loved once can love again.
They just have to be willing to give without the expectation of getting anything in return.
” I raised my brows. “You should try that in other areas of your life first.”
He grimaced. “Perhaps it’s for the best. I wouldn’t have enjoyed a lifetime of your lectures.”
We completed a few more steps in silence, watching each other, and I wondered if he was formulating new arguments that might win me to his side in the final moments of this dance. Because this wasn’t just about our doomed romance—everything with Drustan came back to the crown.
“Does he love you, then?” he asked quietly. “Truly?”
That was what he wanted to know? Not what might convince me to give him another chance, but whether Kallen loved me? “That’s between us.” The first time I put words to that possibility would not be in Drustan’s arms.
His lashes flickered. “I have a hard time believing him capable of it, but I do believe you’re too stubborn to accept anything less.”
The music was shifting into a new tune, calling for new partners, but he didn’t let go of me. “I should find someone strategic to talk to,” I said, struggling to know what to say when he was looking at me with that mix of longing and resignation. “Is there anyone you’d recommend?”
He shook his head. “Let’s just dance, Kenna. Let me pretend for a few minutes that I don’t know what’s coming.”
There was a lump in my throat. “One more dance, then.”
We moved in silence, the weight of my unspoken decision hanging over us. He knew I was choosing Hector. And though he’d seemed honest tonight, Drustan’s truths often turned out to be lies, and I didn’t know what he was going to do in the end.
When it was over, Drustan bowed and pressed a lingering kiss to my hand. Then he left the floor to consult with Rhiannon and her entourage of Earth faeries, a charming smile back on his face as he resumed his politicking.
I retreated to the shadow of a stalagmite and was unsurprised when Kallen appeared at my side. “How was that?” he asked softly.
“He seems melancholy tonight,” I murmured just as quietly. “We didn’t discuss it, but he knows I’m choosing Hector.” I bit my lip, knowing he wouldn’t like the next bit. “He did offer to make me his queen.”
Darkness flooded the blue of his irises. “That’s bold of him.”
“It was a halfhearted attempt at best, and I obviously refused.”
“He’s delusional if he thought you’d say yes.”
Kallen looked ready to untie the knots holding his daggers in place and throw a blade into Drustan’s heart. Guilt swelled at his obvious jealousy. “Are you upset I danced with him?”
He shook his head. “Drustan upsets me by existing, but I’m not going to dictate who you dance with. That’s just politics.”
“I’d rather be dancing with you.”
The black faded from his eyes. “I’d prefer that, too,” he said, voice gentling. His hand nudged mine. “Later, when everyone’s too drunk for scheming and I can stop listening in.”
“Later,” I agreed. “So what have you noticed tonight?”
Kallen tipped his head to one side. “Ulric has been avoiding Imogen.”
I looked in the direction he’d indicated and saw the Illusion lord having a conversation near the refreshment table. “You think that’s significant?”
“Maybe, maybe not. But I overheard him make a disparaging comment about her drinking. He believes queens ought to exhibit a certain level of decorum in public.” I gave him an incredulous look, and his lips quirked.
“A rare opinion among the Fae, but there are a few who hold their rulers to higher standards.”
So Ulric would prefer a more temperate leader. “If he’s having doubts, it’s possible there’s an opportunity to gain his support for Hector.”
He looked pleased. “My thoughts exactly. It’s highly unlikely he’ll turn, but we should be chipping away at Imogen’s support wherever we can. A second’s hesitation can shift the tide of a battle.”
Ulric was alone now, perusing the cheese. “Maybe I should get to know him better.”
“I’ll keep circulating.” He leaned closer, raising his hand like he was whispering something to me, then used the cover of it to gently nip my earlobe. “And then I’ll be coming to claim that dance, Princess.”