33. The Perfect Glamour
Chapter 33
The Perfect Glamour
S tellon
“What? Why not?”
It was obvious she loved the gift, so why would she not accept it?
Raewyn held her hand higher and spread her fingers so the hummingbird took off again. Her eyes came down to meet mine.
“Because accepting it will give you the wrong idea.”
“Which is what?” I asked. “That you don’t hate me?”
She rolled her eyes. “You know I don’t hate you. But I can’t stay here, and I’m still surprised you even suggested such a thing when you’ve been telling me this whole time it’s too dangerous for me to even be seen in your quarters.”
I almost burst out with my new plan at that moment. But then I thought better of it. She wasn’t in the right mood to hear about it.
There was more in store for her tonight, and I wanted everything to be perfect.
Letting out a whistle, I held my hand up, beckoning the beautiful golden bird. It landed on my finger, its wings still whirring and casting a breeze across my hand.
“That’s too bad,” I said in a regretful tone. “I guess I’ll have it melted down.”
Raewyn’s hands shot out toward me. “No, don’t.”
Then she narrowed her eyes at me. “You are incorrigible, do you know that?”
She whistled and the little bird left my finger to fly to hers. When it settled, she touched it tenderly.
“I can’t let you destroy this precious little fellow… which of course you knew.”
Her gaze slipped up to lock with mine.
“But this changes nothing,” she said. “I am leaving when the Assemblage ends, just as you promised me I could—unless you’re planning to hold me against my will like all those poor girls in your father’s retinue.”
“I would never do that to you,” I said, and I meant it.
I’d already decided I wouldn’t try to Sway her again. If I attempted it, and it didn’t work, she’d never forgive me for the offense.
If it did work, I wouldn’t have the real Raewyn anyway. I wanted her to choose to be with me.
The hummingbird hadn’t gotten the job done. Luckily, it was only the first of the special gifts I’d procured for her today.
I went to the other room and retrieved the small crystal bottle I’d set down on a table just inside the door.
Returning to the bedroom, I held it behind my back. “I know you don’t want any gifts, but I did get something else for you today— before you told me that.”
She held up a hand, ready to refuse it before she’d even seen it. “No thank you.”
“You don’t even know what it is.”
“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s lovely and that I don’t want it.”
I brought the perfume bottle around to the front of my body and held the sparkling amber liquid up to the light.
“Very well then. Are you sure you don’t want to take just one whiff before I pour it down the drain?”
“Why would you pour it out?” she asked. “Just take it back to wherever you bought it.”
“Oh, I didn’t buy this,” I said. “In fact, it’s something that can’t be bought. The royal perfumer creates fragrances for our family alone. I had this one made especially for you. It contains all your favorite scents.”
“How do you know what my favorite scents are?” she challenged in a tone that told me she believed I had no idea. But I’d been listening.
“Jasmine, honeysuckle, iced vanilla cakes…” I counted them off.
Then I added the clincher—something she’d mentioned only once. “And a touch of newly begun rainfall.”
Raewyn’s jaw fell open, and I had to bite my tongue to suppress a smile.
“Are you sure you don’t want just one little sniff before I get rid of it?” I asked.
Withdrawing the cone shaped applicator cap from the neck of the bottle, I ran it under my nose.
“Arjun really outdid himself this time. I think these may become my favorite scents as well.”
A hint of the fragrance must have wafted across the room because Raewyn suddenly sat up straighter and leaned toward me, sniffing the air.
“But alas, if you don’t want it…”
I strolled from the room and came back without the perfume, though I had not actually poured it down the drain. I still had hope Raewyn might come around and want it later.
But I was running out of ideas. My final surprise of the evening wasn’t scheduled to start for almost an hour.
After casting a longing glance toward the other room, Raewyn had gone back to reading. And ignoring me.
Taking a seat and picking up a book myself, I attempted to get into the story. But it was impossible. I kept sneaking looks at her.
If she wasn’t willing to accept my gifts, there was no way she’d consider accepting my proposal.
What was I going to do?
Then I remembered something else Mareth had said—that women loved honesty. That sharing something real about yourself could be a gift in itself.
Laying my book across my lap, I said, “Ask me something.”
Raewyn looked up crossly. “What?”
“Ask me a question. Anything. Whatever you want to know. I’ll tell you the truth.”
Now I had her attention. She placed her book to one side and eyed me speculatively.
“Anything?”
My hands were beginning to sweat, but I said, “Anything.”
“Tell me about your glamour. Many of the Elves I saw at the ball wore marks on their bodies proclaiming theirs. But you don’t have one—not that I’ve seen anyway.”
I winced. “Could we start with something a little easier?”
“Fine. Tell me about your father’s. You said he ‘always gets what he wants.’ Is that because of his glamour, or just because he’s king?”
If Raewyn had been from another Elven clan, giving her that information would be an act of treason. But she was human, and the whole point of this exercise was to build trust. So I answered.
“Both. He’s a Compeller,” I told her.
“His glamour causes others to actually want to give him whatever he desires,” I explained. “They do it happily—at least they’re happy until later when it wears off. I’m fairly sure it’s how he became king. And I know it’s helped him gain more power and riches than any king in Fae history.”
“And your sister’s?” Raewyn asked.
“Mareth can communicate with animals, and as far as I can tell, get them to do whatever she asks. I don’t think it’s really compulsion, though. She says she asks. Even if she could force them, she wouldn’t use it that way. She has no lust for power.”
“What about Pharis?” she asked. “He seems positively made of lust.”
I bristled at the memory of how my brother had pursued Lady Wyn, even after he knew how I’d felt about her. But Raewyn had never met Pharis—had she?
“You know my brother?”
She shook her head rapidly. “No, of course not. But I know of him. Everyone does, just as everyone knows of you.”
“Right,” I nodded in understanding.
“I suppose he does have a reputation,” I admitted. “He’s not as bad as all that, though. He’s always been a loyal friend to me, and I to him. And I know he wouldn’t want me discussing his glamour. He finds it shameful… just as I find mine.”
Raewyn leaned forward, a little line forming between her brows.
“Why shameful? I thought glamours were good, that they helped you in life.”
“Some of them do for sure,” I said. “Some of them are less… impressive.”
I licked my lips, inhaling deeply through my nose and debating. I’d promised her total honesty, but I couldn’t betray my brother.
“If you don’t mind, I really don’t think it’s my place to talk about Pharis’ glamour,” I said. “Mareth is different—she delights in hers and doesn’t mind who knows it.”
Hesitating, I drew another long breath and prepared for humiliation. “But if you still want to know… I’ll tell you about mine.”
Raewyn nodded eagerly.
My heart pounded as I confessed something I never discussed with anyone except my siblings.
“I am what’s known as… an Exalter. That means I have the ability to enhance the glamours of others.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Raewyn said. “I’m not sure why you’d feel shame over it.”
I shrugged, shifting uncomfortably in my chair. “It’s the glamour of a helper, not a ruler. I can’t really do anything on my own.”
What I didn’t mention was how I’d been ridiculed over it my whole life by my own father. Why would he do that if my glamour wasn’t a mortifying embarrassment?
Unlike other parents who had their children’s glamour symbols tattooed in a prominent spot in glowing ink as soon as they developed, Father had hidden my symbol.
It had been tattooed high on my ribcage, beneath one arm.
Sometimes I wondered if he’d have pushed me aside and made Pharis his heir, had my brother not also been born with a “lesser” glamour.
As it was, our sire had always made the both of us feel inferior about the way we’d been born—though he certainly didn’t mind using our abilities whenever it suited him.
Raewyn looked puzzled. “To me, it sounds like the perfect glamour for a future king. What could be better than being able to help as many people as possible?”
I blinked. Blinked again. “I’ve… never thought of it that way.”
“It seems rather obvious to me,” she said then added with a smile, “No insult intended against your intelligence.”
I chuckled. “None taken.”
She went on, explaining her point of view.
“As an Exalter, you’re able to make those around you better, stronger, more successful, right?”
“I suppose.”
“Don’t you see? Healers could heal more people of more challenging ailments. Artisans could make more and better goods so more is available for people who need it. Food could taste better, music could sound sweeter.”
The pace of her speech increased as she laid out the possibilities. “I’m not sure what other glamours there are, but you could help them all. You lift people up, essentially. With your help, the kingdom could be the happiest and healthiest it’s ever been.”
I nodded as her words spun through my head, sparking new connections, new possibilities. I’d only ever seen the destruction my “gift” could cause.
“I’ve literally never considered the positive aspects before,” I told her, suddenly wondering why.
“Well, as I see it, that’s a king’s whole job,” she said. “Helping people, taking care of his subjects, looking after their best interests.”
My tone turned surly. “My father sees his job a bit differently.”
King Pontus was only concerned with his own interests. Was that why he’d never mentioned the up side of my glamour—apart from how it could help him further enrich and empower himself?
He didn’t want me spreading my “servant’s glamour” around or even acknowledging it. He didn’t believe in a ruler serving his subjects.
For the first time, I considered the possibility that my father was a bad king.
“That much is very clear,” Raewyn said, giving me a jolt. Had she somehow overheard my traitorous internal thought?
It took me a second to realize she’d only been responding to my earlier remark.
“When I am King… someday,” I said, “I will do things differently.”
Even that statement felt like an unforgivable betrayal to my sire. I looked up at Raewyn, half expecting her to condemn me.
Instead, she looked back at me with glistening eyes. Her voice sounded a bit hoarse when she spoke.
“I believe that, Stellon Randalin. I only wish that ‘someday’ was today.”