32. Bastian
Bastian
W ith Rose on my arm, I watched Faolán escort Kat to the party and slammed every door in my mind against the memory of the last party we’d attended together. Thankfully, she wore more this time. Fine lace covered the low back of her gown, but I’d still seen how she reacted to my touch.
And I’d felt an answering call in my bones.
Our time on the road had made me weak. Giving her that ring had been foolish, filling my head with all sorts of stupid ideas. I could so easily have kissed her.
And she might’ve let me.
Somehow, despite everything, she wanted me; physically at least. The only thing worse than her not wanting me was the thought that if I asked—if I led her to a quiet corner of this party—she might let us finish what we’d started in Albion.
I wasn’t sure I was a strong enough, a good enough man to not follow through with that. But I knew I didn’t deserve to. I hadn’t earned that right—that forgiveness.
I certainly couldn’t afford to let others see how much I wanted it and her.
That left me with only one option: distance.
Chin lifted, eyelids drooping with boredom, I sauntered through the first chamber. In my nostrils, her magic was sweet and sharp, like something delicious that I’d adore right up until the moment it killed me.
Drink of all kinds and the faint woody scent of sairsa smoke surrounded us. Thank the fucking gods we didn’t have to drink arianmêl this time, or I really would have been lost.
Someone sang, sweet and slow like honey. Dozens of conversations bubbled below that, low and intimate.
No one announced us, but every pair of eyes in the room followed Kat’s path.
In different circumstances, I’d have swelled with pride to be near her in public. Part of me did—a base, instinctual part that didn’t give a shit about the past or anyone else seeing how I felt about her. All it knew was that she was mine. Mine .
That part could say whatever it liked, but it wasn’t in charge. I ignored it and kept my shadows on a tight leash.
The next chamber’s dark walls made the space feel smaller. Here, lingering touches punctuated the intimate conversations, heating the space with seductive promise. The base part of me liked the charged atmosphere, telling me it was the perfect place to bring Kat later.
In the third chamber, the honey-voiced singer’s voice combined with drum and cello. Dancers filled the main body of the room, but this wasn’t the kind of dance we’d done in Albion.
They heaved with the music’s heady rhythm as though they were part of it. Bodies entwined, they rocked and wound around each other, laughing, kissing, some biting their own lips in that delicious moment of resistance that came before giving in to temptation.
The dancers parted for us, though they watched. Despite her small stature, Kat’s hair was a beacon, and I stiffened, ready in case anyone thought her appearance was an invitation to touch.
Rose squeezed my arm. “She’ll be fine.”
I scowled at the people we passed. “I hope you’re right.”
We reached the edge of the dancers and found the queen upon a gilded chair, watching as she stroked the hair of the lover sitting at her feet.
We’d discussed the Dusk folk who’d been executed and put in place countermeasures to ensure there wouldn’t be a repeat of that. It was almost enough to ease my guilt.
Dark eyes on Kat, Braea smiled slowly. “Ah, and here is our guest of honour.”
Rose gave my arm another comforting squeeze before retreating.
Faolán nodded to the queen and joined Rose.
Just past them, the lush green curls of the Queen Meredine’s hair caught my eye as she watched Kat approach Braea.
It made my spine stiffen, but I couldn’t tell if that was because of some ill intent in the Day Queen’s expression or just my protectiveness.
Still, she wasn’t the queen who’d summoned Kat here. I bowed my head formally to Braea. “Your Majesty. I present Lady Katherine Ferrers.”
Kat swept into a graceful bow.
“None of that.” Queen Braea clicked her tongue and waved Kat closer. “Come here, child.”
I didn’t detect any reaction in Kat to being called “child” but she had to wonder—after all, the Night Queen didn’t look much older than her. But Braea had lived many human lifetimes. At thirty-five, even I was a child to her.
Kat approached and I lingered nearby, close enough to hear any quiet conversation and swoop in for rescue or damage control, if needed.
“Let me see you properly.” Braea reached out as if to turn Kat’s head. Her fingers closed just short as she must’ve remembered my warning. She took her in for a long second before nodding. “Such a sweet-looking girl.”
“Your Majesty is too kind,” Kat murmured with lowered lashes.
Braea chuckled. “You may look sweet, sound sweet, yet you helped my Shadow uncover a plot.”
“Luck put me in the right place at the opportune moment, Your Majesty. But I’m grateful I was able to help.”
I frowned as their soft, polite conversation drew to a close.
“What’s wrong, dear Bastian?” Braea raised an eyebrow at me. “Surely you can’t complain about our guest of honour?” Again, that reach for Kat before pulling back. “She is delightful.”
“Not that.” I shook my head and couldn’t help my gaze skipping to Kat. “Never that. But I think she may be thirsty.”
“No drinks? We can’t have that. Go—get yourselves away. Drink and enjoy all my court has to offer.” She spread her arms to encompass the room and dismissed us.
What an idiot, I told myself as we turned away. I should never have underestimated Kat. Of course she knew how to juggle a queen, whether human or fae. Anyone else listening wouldn’t be able to guess Kat’s skills. What she knew. What she wanted. Her heart.
Even in a strange court, she understood how to keep herself safe.