Chapter 45 #2
Males were dressed in dark velvet doublets, while ladies in elaborate gowns decorated with precious stones whispered behind painted fans.
All moved with the practiced grace of nobility.
The room felt comfortably filled without being crowded, with space for hearty conversation and dancing yet intimate enough that every whispered secret might find eager ears.
I saw many faces I recognized, others I didn't. Thankfully, King Paeulyn of Thalyrius and his daughter were not among them.
The king had a habit of showing up fashionably late for every event he attended.
I didn't know what the daughter was like, but I presumed she wouldn't make an entrance without her father. That worked perfectly for me.
I spotted Dreynthor at the top of the room. He saw me, too. In fact, he saw me first.
He was talking with some noble Fae who I guessed were from the Southern Isles because of their tanned skin.
Dreynthor acknowledged Bastian and me with a raise of his goblet and one of his fake-as-fuck smiles. We nodded back. Though I tried to keep a straight face, my gut twisted with quiet unease.
Bastian and I made our way through the crowd. Those we passed either greeted us or bowed to show their respect.
When we reached the center of the room, the doors on the opposite side swung open, and in walked Elariya. On Garrick's arm. Beside them was Arielle.
We stopped and watched them.
A surge of madness threatened to overpower me just from seeing Garrick touching my mage, but I was so taken with her beauty that I could barely remember how to breathe.
Elariya waltzed in like an artist's vision. Her blood-red hair was swept up in an elegant chignon with soft tendrils framing her face, the rich crimson a striking contrast against the midnight black of her gown.
The dress was a masterpiece of intricate lace and flowing tulle with a plunging neckline. Delicate black embroidery traced across her skin and sheer sleeves decorated with the same elaborate lacework glided over her arms.
Every step sent the elaborate train whispering across the marble, commanding everyone's attention.
Nearly every eye within my vicinity was fixed on her. And rightly so. She was breathtaking.
She seemed engrossed in whatever Garrick was saying. Arielle was giving him one of her sarcastic stares, which told me he was shit-talking, regaling them with one of his crazy stories. Still, they both laughed.
“Easy, there,” Bastian muttered at my ear. “You don't want to fight here in front of everyone.”
We both looked down at my clenched fist pressed against my side and shadows curling around my boots.
“I'm fine,” I answered through gritted teeth.
“Garrick is just being himself.” Bastian chuckled, shaking his head at me. “He can't help it.”
“He needs to try fucking harder.”
As soon as I spoke, Elariya turned, and our eyes locked. She was too far away to hear what I said, but it was as if she had.
The ballroom with all its magical lights and chattering guests faded to nothing. And in my world, there was only her.
Only those eyes that held mine with an intensity that made my chest tighten. Only this moment with the space between us keeping us apart.
For a heartbeat that felt like eternity, we simply stared at each other across the crowded room, and I watched as her lips parted, her breath catching just as mine had.
The longing in her gaze was unmistakable, raw and unguarded. I couldn't look away. Neither could she.
Bastian started to speak again, but I didn't hear him.
I walked toward her, my only thought to be near her, get closer, touch her.
Her arms slipped out of Garrick's, and she came to me, too.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him watching her, but the moment he spotted me, he gave me a respectful smile.
Elariya and I looked at nothing but each other as we crossed the ballroom.
When we finally met in the middle, I took her hand in mine and leaned closer, drawn by an irresistible pull. I was ready to kiss her right there, forgetting where we were, forgetting the hundred eyes watching us, forgetting everything but the need to have her in my arms.
I barely managed to compose myself and step back before I caused a scandal. But I still held her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles, pretending I was greeting her in our customary manner.
“My Lady,” I said, giving her dainty hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it.
“Your… Highness.” Her voice quivered slightly, as if she were checking herself, too, then she bowed into a delicate curtsy.
I wanted to stop her. I didn't want her bowing to me. Not in that way.
A sparkle flickered in her eyes when she looked at me again.
“You look beautiful.” I kept my voice low.
Her cheeks flushed a soft rose color and crept down her neck. “Thank you.”
“Looks like I have to work overtime to restrain myself tonight.”
She held back a smile. “Why would you need to do that?”
“You know why, Ziyka.” I looked her up and down, leaving no question as to what I was thinking.
“Do I?”
“You should.” Despite the risk, I moved to her ear and hovered there. “Dressed like that... hmm. You look good enough to eat. I hope I don't have to kill anyone tonight just for eye fucking you.”
“That is ridiculous.” Her voice caught in a sultry whisper.
“No, it's not. You should know by now I don't like sharing my things.”
“I don't think you have to worry about that.”
“You don't think? That doesn't sound very convincing. I'm going to need you to be more specific. Or I'll show you just how wretched I can be.” She'd called me that once—wretched. She was right, but for the wrong reasons.
She laughed lightly. “You don't have to worry. Is that more convincing?”
An easy grin slid across my lips, and I pulled back an inch to look at her. “That works for now. Guess what, mage?”
“What?”
I moved back to her ear, the rebel in me not caring about the eyes that watched me. “I simply can't wait to peel that dress off you and lick your delicious body from head to toe. This time, I won't stop until I've finished tasting and taking you. Make sure you're ready for me.”
Her bright red cheeks made it clear to our audience I'd said something inappropriate. But all they could do was watch. No one wanted a problem with me.
“So, this is the lovely creature I've been hearing so much about,” came the voice of the one man who had the power to fuck with me.
I moved a safe distance back from Elariya and looked at my uncle, the warmth from moments before instantly replaced by the bad blood between us.
“Uncle.” I plastered on a grin no more real than his was and positioned myself between him and Elariya.
“Nephew.” Dreynthor looked from her to me, his gaze assessing and crude.
“This is Elariya, the newest addition to my court.” I kept my tone neutral, but he could see straight through me.
“Wonderful to meet you, Elariya. I'm Dreynthor Nightblade, steward and ruler of Galaythia.”
Hearing that title made me just as sick as the sight of him.
“Your Grace, it's a pleasure to meet you, too. Happy name day,” Elariya replied in a light voice, although she seemed a little thrown to hear my uncle practically declaring himself king. I'd never explained the situation to her, but I knew Arielle had.
“Thank you. I'm pleased you could make it.” The miserable bastard took Elariya's hand and kissed her knuckles, lingering on her skin for far too long.
“It's an honor to be here.”
Dreynthor straightened then grinned at me. “Charming, isn't she? No wonder you keep her so close. I'd hate to see such beauty go to waste in the wrong court.”
“Thank the Gods she's in the right place.” I nodded.
“Indeed. Anyhow, I'm sure you will not mind if I steal your beauty away for a dance.”
What the fuck was this motherfucker playing at? It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I minded and he couldn't touch her with his evil hands. Then I realized this was a test.
He was testing me.
If I objected, I'd fall right into his trap and expose my weakness even more. Then I might put her in danger. I couldn't do that.
“Sure. Have a dance.” I barely got the words out and forced a nonchalant grin. “It is your name day, after all.”
I deserved an award for every time I stopped myself from ending him.
“Indeed.” He held out his hand, and Elariya took it.
He ushered her away from me. She glanced back, clearly uncomfortable but going with the flow. All I could do was watch my girl leave on someone else's arm and act like it didn't gut me.
Every time something happened to pull us apart, I realized just how badly I wanted her. This time felt like fate—or destiny—was telling me to open my eyes and make the choice.
I did. I would always choose her.
I was her villain, and she was mine. It was as simple as that.
I'd fight a good fight to get what I wanted and restore my kingdom, but my end game was her.
Even if she forgot me for eternity and I spent the rest of forever making her remember she was mine.
Even if I remained cursed evermore.