33. Kat
Kat
N ot yet familiar with fae drinks, I let Bastian choose me something pale amber and sparkling from the a tray.
When I tasted it, the bubbles danced across my tongue.
Sweet and sour, like lemons and limes but…
different. Brighter—more like sunshine. I made a soft sound of pleasure and let my shoulders ease.
“I think that went well.” I raised my eyebrows at him, hopeful.
He eyed me over his drink as he took a sip. “You were perfect.”
His words suffused me, and, face heating, I had to take another gulp of whatever it was in my glass. Slowly . I had plans for tonight. Not to mention the need to keep hold of my magic.
A moment later, his expression stiffened and he looked away before leading me to a small group including Ella, Rose, and Faolán and introduced his assistant, Brynan, and his partner, Gael. Then Bastian excused himself.
I stood there amidst their small talk, tiny thorns pricking my heart. Things between us weren’t right, not entirely, but after our travels, I thought they were better. That moment when he’d given me this ring and removed the necklace… it had felt like something.
Ella ducked closer, eyeing guests passing. “How’s your ‘project’ going?”
I’d told her about my investigation into unCavendish. She’d given me a fierce grin of approval and offered to help in any way. But she’d endured enough fae intrigue—if I could keep her out of this, I would.
“Mixed results so far.” I scanned the crowd, which was as full of Dawn folk as Dusk—their outfits blending to create a full rainbow from rich jewel tones to pale whispers of colour. “I’m looking for Caelus. Think he knows something.”
“He’s here—I saw him earlier.” She nodded back towards the entrance. “Over that way.”
Perfect. My first instinct was to give her a squeeze, but… poison. It had been enough of a challenge to trust my gloves and layers of clothing to take Faolán’s arm on the way here.
Instead, I blew her a harmless kiss. “You are a diamond.”
She primped her hair and grinned. “I know. I’ll help you get away, too.” She winked before draining her drink and turning to the rest of the group.
Effortlessly, she inserted herself into Rose and Brynan’s conversation about the coming eclipse and listened as though rapt.
A moment later, she asked, “And that’s the only time the queen and king can be awake at the same time? Fascinating .” She went to take a sip but widened her eyes at the empty glass. “Damn.”
I bit back a laugh, suddenly filled with fierce joy at having my friend back. “I can get you a fresh drink—save you missing out on any of this fascinating discussion.”
She touched her chest. “Oh, would you ? So thoughtful.”
“Aren’t I?” I gave her a wink, mouthed a thank you when no one was looking, then slipped into the crowd.
The folk from Dusk glanced at me and nodded, most of them smiling—I was old news to them. But those from Dawn watched more closely, albeit from behind fans and glasses. They were courtiers, and just like back in Albion, they knew a little about subtlety.
Any one of them could be behind unCavendish. Admittedly, it was possible he’d been sent by someone from Dusk—someone who hated Bastian, but Dawn seemed most likely. Poisoning him at the wedding—that felt less personal, more political.
The question was, who had tried to ruin the alliance?
I searched for Caelus in the crowd, careful to keep my gloves up to my elbows so no bare skin peeked out.
Although I searched for one fae, it was Bastian’s name I picked out on someone’s lips. It was too noisy for me to catch much more than the word “oathbreaker” and I didn’t spot the speaker.
As I went on, my thoughts snagged on Bastian and his stiff shoulders as he’d disappeared.
He wasn’t the same person who’d taken me to the party in Riverton Palace or the one who’d laughed with me in a cave, drenched in rain.
This man looked tired all the time. He carried a weight I couldn’t fully understand, only that it seemed like a heavier version of the one I’d held when the estate was under threat.
Messages arrived for him in the middle of the night—pounding on the doors woke me.
A couple of times I’d padded to the sitting room door to listen to the quiet voices.
I’d heard enough to understand that he was about to hurry back to his room and get dressed, ready to deal with whatever his court and queen demanded.
Golden hair caught the light and a laugh rose above the others. Prince Cyrus. Head back, arm around a woman’s shoulder, he poured drink from a bottle into another man’s mouth.
Mostly in his mouth, anyway—his laughter sent plenty spilling over his chin and cheeks.
As Cyrus lowered the bottle and his friend spluttered, he met my gaze.
I held my face still, not allowing myself to wince as inwardly I chanted: Don’t come over. Don’t come over. After his behaviour last time, I had the feeling he wasn’t going to take no for an answer when it came to dancing.
With a smirk, he nodded, but otherwise made no approach.
A total idiot and capricious, it seemed.
Lucky for me.
A voice came at my shoulder. “Despite being a Day Prince, His Highness’s attentions wax and wane like the moon.”
I spun on my heel and found Caelus, chestnut hair gleaming like the sun was upon it, even now in the dead of night. “Just who I was looking for.”
His eyebrows flicked up. I didn’t miss the pleased smile that ghosted on his lips. “And I was looking for you—the guest of honour. Join me?” He gestured along the loose path that opened up through the guests, and I fell in at his side.
“You know they held a ball just before I left Lunden, but without you there, it was entirely dull.”
“Oh, you mean no one interrupted any important rituals or smashed priceless glassware?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “I believe one glass was broken, but not a single ritual was interrupted by anyone taking poison.”
“How boring .” That’s it, put him at ease. I eyed his drink as I swirled mine. Somehow I had to get arianmêl in there.
“Even more boring—your uncle spent the whole time trying to ingratiate himself with your queen. Kept going on about how you were his niece and had saved the country. It was quite embarrassing.”
My throat tightened, and I went to tug at the necklace that was no longer there. Uncle Rufus could embarrass the Ferrers name for all I cared, just as long as he stayed far, far out of my life.
“I’m sorry—it looks like I shouldn’t have mentioned anything.” Caelus wore a pained look as we passed a set of doors leading out into the gardens.
You’re meant to be tricking him into spilling what he knows about unCavendish, not making him feel bad.
I needed to get the hip flask of arianmêl out of my garter and pour some in his drink. Somehow.
So I waved him off and forced out a breezy laugh. “He is a fool. But aren’t we all fools, sometimes?”
“I think perhaps I was at the last party we both attended.”
My breath caught at the reminder of him asking if I would share myself with him as well as Bastian. He’d seen Bastian make me come undone, and that made my face burn, but perhaps it opened up an opportunity…
He winced. “I should never have—”
“Maybe I was the fool.”
His attention honed in on me, as focused as the pressure at a blade’s point. I made myself wait— one, two, three —before turning and giving him a meaningful look.
Lips parted he held my gaze and there was such hope in them that for a moment I hated myself.
But only for a moment.
Because I needed to know about unCavendish, and if that meant crushing Caelus’s heart—well, so be it.
The changeling had helped destroy my heart—in some warped way, it felt like a fair exchange.
“You know,” I went on, voice lower, “we never had a chance to drink one of those shots together at that party. What were they? Ariammel? Aria—? ”
“ Arianmêl .”
“That’s it!” I touched his arm, my glove keeping him safe.
“They had shots of it at the door, didn’t they?
I swear that stuff was responsible for…” I looked away and focused on the memory of him watching me, hoping the heat in my cheeks translated to a blush.
“Well, me getting up to all sorts of things. We could remedy that now.” Slowly, I bent over, conscious of how it emphasised my cleavage—the only skin I had on display.
Caelus’s stare burned into me as I pulled up the hem of my dress and retrieved the hip flask.
I waited long moments before letting the hem down again, letting him get a good view before I waggled the hip flask in front of him.
His eyes narrowed as he eyed it, then me. Not convinced. Suspicious, even.
Maybe if I…
I opened the top and took a sip, keeping it upturned for a while after so it seemed like I drank more than I did. Still, it went down smooth and warm, sweet and lulling, like this was a wonderful idea. I held out the hip flask and purred, “Your turn.”
His canines flashed as he gave a short, huffing laugh. “How can I say no?” He accepted, taking a long draught while my head swam.
I couldn’t lie, but I could dance around the truth like fae did, and it would make him more forthcoming with the truth. I had this all under control.
He made a soft sound as he licked his lips and passed the flask back. “That’s good stuff.”
“Isn’t it?” I secured it back in place before we set off.
I kept to flirtatious small talk initially—no need to make him suspicious by leaping straight to the necklace.
“Look, over there…” He gestured towards a woman with hair the colour of starlight—a silvery blue. “That’s Bastian’s mother.”
I blinked at her, then looked away as she turned, not wanting to be caught staring.
“She was attacked by an unseelie and fell pregnant.”
That was how he’d been conceived.
“She gave him up?”
Caelus nodded. “So I understand it. As soon as he was born.”