Chapter 19
nineteen
The fae sisters were relentless.
They scrubbed my skin and washed my hair, massaged my scalp so thoroughly, so well, that I fell asleep for a minute or two. The scents of the shampoos that they pulled out from these cabinets hidden in the decorations of the wall were heavenly—peachy and floral and perfect.
Then, while they let me use the bathroom that was behind yet another door that was seamlessly hidden in the wall of the bathroom hall, they’d filled up the tub with what looked like milk , and they demanded I climb in there.
I did.
Whatever lotus milk was, it must have poured straight out of heaven because it felt like I was lying on clouds.
The women didn’t let me come out until the sun began to set behind the horizon, and the sky became a gorgeous mix of orange and purple right there in front of my eyes.
It might have been one of the most serene moments of my entire life to be lying in a bathtub full of milk, to be looking at that sky, to be at peace.
Unfortunately, it didn’t last long .
They took me out of the tub and dried me, wouldn’t even hear it when I said I could dry myself. Then I was back in the bedroom and they’d laid out two dresses for me, one white and golden, the other a pale blue.
They let me choose that, at least, and I went with the blue one as it reminded me a bit of the dress Miriam the noxin had given me. The white one was too much queen’s vibes, and I wasn’t entirely sure why I wanted to rebel against the idea already, but I did.
The women didn’t argue about that. Instead, they argued about putting my panties on—a brand new pair made of cotton and peach-colored lace, and the bra to match which was exactly my size.
How in the world they had gotten everything for me in the time it had taken them to bathe me was not something I knew, but they put everything on me themselves, the dress, and the stockings that went up to my thighs, and the gorgeous ballerinas with silk ties that Pera tied in perfect bows right over my ankle.
Then, Pippa took over, sat me in front of the vanity table in the right of the room, and ran her fingers down my wet hair. That’s all she did—ran her fingers. I felt the heat as her hands began to glow, and then my hair was dry a minute later.
Not only dry, but smooth and voluminous and so perfect it didn’t look like my hair at all.
When they pulled open the wide drawer of the vanity table, I was honestly speechless.
It wasn’t makeup the way I knew it — there were no tubes, no powders caked in metal pans.
Instead, glass vials shimmered with what could have been light inside them, tiny seed pots that opened all by themselves to reveal shimmery dust in different colors, and balms that glowed inside carved pieces of stone.
Everything smelled faintly of wildflowers somehow. Like I was standing on a field outside.
“Would you like me to put some on, Miss Nilah?” asked Poppy, and I’d already accepted that no amount of me asking them to drop the miss was going to actually work so I no longer bothered.
I just said, “Yep. Yep. Put everything on me.” And I thought, Thank God I’m a girl.
They had shimmer powder made from crushed starlight crystals —yes, that is what the women said.
They had tints, too— moon water tint they called them because the colors were distilled from moonlit flower petals that were soaked in river water for a day and a half.
They were stored in these thin glass vials that were sealed with silk cords—and that wasn’t all.
What I knew as a mascara, they called thornlash ink because it was made of rare midnight thorns, and then eyeshadows were actually veil shadows because they only appeared when the wearer blinked because they had illusion magic infused in them.
The dew glow balm was for cheeks and anywhere else you wanted a wet look, because it was made from the morning dew of the fae gardens below the gazebo that extended from the room, they said.
Lip glosses made out of fae nectar, and color-shifting powders—it was all right there in the drawer, and when they put it on my face, the reflection in the heart-shaped mirror attached to the vanity table transformed in front of my eyes.
I no longer looked like me—I looked almost like a fae. Almost like a fucking illusion. Not real.
Of course, I said nothing when the chambermaids curtsied in front of me and then left with the promise to be back whenever I needed it. But the moment they closed the door, I reached for the dry wipes on the vanity table and took off most of the shimmer and the highlights they’d put on me.
There. Like that, I looked a lot more like myself with only lip gloss and a little mascara on. Not that it mattered what I looked like, obviously, but it served as a distraction to pass the time, and I was thankful for it.
Because it was already dark outside, the sun disappeared, the night stretched far and wide, and it wouldn’t be long now until I could walk out of here and search for Rune. Maybe the soldiers would take me to him themselves if I just asked.
And if they didn’t, I’d find my own way.
I went closer to the bookshelves—because what better way to pass the time than to get lost in a good story?—but I never got the chance to even pick a book up before another knock sounded on the door.
This time, I didn’t feel half as strange as before when I said, “Come in. ”
I thought it would be the chambermaids again, and for a moment I panicked because I’d taken off most of the makeup I’d told them to put on me. But when the door pulled open, it revealed one of the guards with the armor and the helmet on.
“My lady, Prince Lyall would like to invite you to dinner.”
As if on cue, my stomach growled with hunger. I put my hands over it and said, “Thank you, but I’m not hungry.”
The guard looked at me. I saw the gold of his eyes through the opening on his helmet. “The prince insists.”
In other words, I didn’t really have a choice. It wasn’t an invitation at all—it was an order .
I wanted to be angry. I wanted to be so mad I exploded in fucking fireworks, but what good would that do me? I was hungry, I was dressed, and I had to see more of this place so I knew my way around when I went searching for Rune, didn’t I?
With that thought in my mind, I raised my chin and swallowed hard, suffocated the heat that had grown inside me. “In that case, lead the way,” I told the guard and followed him outside.
Had somebody told me a month ago that I’d be in a palace in the fae realm, wearing a dress that possibly cost more than a car back home, and shoes that made me think I might be going barefoot, laced with what could have been real gold—I’d have laughed in their faces.
I’d have probably punched their faces, too, because I’d have felt they were trying to mock me.
Thinking back now, I’d taken everything as an attempt-mockery toward me, and it had been awful. Even though I’d nearly died a hundred times in this place, the distance had done me good. It had disconnected me from my life long enough that I saw things so much more clearly.
That still didn’t change the fact that I might just be a prisoner in this fancy palace, no matter what it looked like, and no matter what I wore, and no matter how many chambermaids Lyall sent for me.
When he wanted me to eat dinner with him, I would, apparently.
And that didn’t sit well with me at all, but as the soldiers took me down hallways and wide sets of stairs, I reminded myself that it was temporary.
All of this was just temporary until I found Rune, until I made sure that he was okay, until I spoke to him and he told me more exactly how much shit I was really in. Because I would refuse to believe any of these people. I would wait—for days and weeks if I had to—to see Rune.
Funny how the universe works when you least expect something, though.
Because big fancy golden doors opened at the end of the hallway the soldiers took me to, and Rune was right there.
I froze in place instantly, my limbs turned to fucking stone, my mind wiped clean, my heart about to break through my ribcage. Even my eyes refused to blink, afraid something about the view in front of me would change, and somehow a single blink would steal him away from me again.
For a moment, it was like the palace, the whole world disappeared, and I couldn’t see or hear or smell anything that wasn’t him.
Those wide indigo eyes with silver maps in them, drawn just for me.
His mauve-colored lips and that dark hair falling over his eye, half hiding the pointy tips of his ears.
His wide shoulders and his clothes, no velvet and no gold or silver threads, so different from everyone else here. So… him.
Rune is here.
“Nilah, you made it.”
Lyall was there, too.
Finally, I blinked. Finally, my senses were open to the rest of the world, too, and I could see more than just Rune’s face, hear more than my own heartbeat pounding in my chest.
Lyall was standing to Rune’s side, his hand on Rune’s shoulder, both their eyes on me.
My knees shook as my body unfroze little by little. God, I was going to run right this second, and I was going to jump in his arms, hug him and kiss him until we both risked dying from lack of air .
I was going to—and then Rune’s eyes widened.
Just slightly, but they moved, and then his head moved curtly to the sides, too, ever so slightly— no.
He was saying no.
Rune had always had this uncanny ability to know exactly what I was thinking, so much so that I’d considered he could read my mind when we first met, but no.
He could just read my eyes like an open book, and it would be easy to guess that I’d want to be in his arms the moment I saw him again after everything that had happened.
An easy guess, and so he told me no. With his widening eyes and the shaking of his head—and I could have sworn that I heard the word whispered in my ear for a second there, too.