27. I Hate Them Both
Anwir led me through four consecutive dances, leaving me breathless and flushed and increasingly irritated. Finally, he pulled me aside, weaving between still dancing couples and to the edge of the floor. With tender fingers completely at odds with the biting grip he’d maintained on my waist, the prince grazed a loose lock of hair back from my face, tucking it neatly behind my ear.
“We’ve put on quite a show,” he said with a smile, “but I should probably mingle with my guests. Go and enjoy yourself. This is a celebration of you, after all.”
Finally. “Okay.” I nodded, unhooking my hair and trying to pretend I was deeply disappointed to leave his side.
His grip on my hand tightened. “Just remember to make a good impression. It’s probably best to avoid the fairy wine. It’s… potent, and we don’t want any foolishness, tonight of all nights.”
So much for enjoying myself. What was a party without a glass of wine? “I’ve already had a glass. It was fine.”
“What? Who gave it to you?” His face hardened as he scanned the crowds, as though searching for some imagined assailant.
“Relax, I had a few sips while I was getting ready.”
His lips thinned. “Well, no more. Trust me, I only want my people to think highly of you, and humans rarely behave well after a few glasses of wine.”
The last vestiges of my patience evaporated. Did he forget that the only reason I was here at all was because he’d begged me to deceive the people whose opinions he valued above mine? I fixed a simpering smile on my face. “Don’t worry about me. Go, mingle.”
Anwir kissed my hand again, and I fought the urge to snatch it out of his grasp. Without another word, he was gone, strolling through the crowd with his shoulders back and his head high. Everywhere he went, bright-eyed, hopeful faces turned in his direction. He paused here and there, bestowing a word or two to over-exuberant laughter. As charming as Anwir could be, he wasn’t exactly a comedian. Oh, the things people would fake for the powerful. Was it flattering or annoying to have everyone he ever met fall over themselves to please him? I’d seen a side of him tonight I didn’t like, and it left me in no doubt he was lapping up the admiration.
When I dragged my eyes away, it was to find myself surrounded by a gaggle of breathtakingly beautiful fae females, dressed in equally stunning gowns with quirky, elaborate details, all staring expectantly. The moment I noticed them, they rushed to curtsy, rising with eager smiles. Was this it? My opportunity to wow and amuse with the dullest of words?
“Lovely party,” I said, spotting a passing tray laden with fizzing wine. “Excuse me.”
I darted between their reluctantly parting shoulders and snagged a glass. The rim had barely touched my lips when I spotted a familiar head of dark hair.
Idris, loitering near a floral arrangement, held a crystal flute in each hand. I wouldn’t exactly call him a friendly face, but at least I knew him. I lifted my hem and hurried to his side.
“Hi.” I took a deep swig of fairy wine, grimacing at the bubbles exploding at the back of my throat.
Idris swayed as he turned to look at me, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. His misty gaze travelled from the hem of my gown, all the way to the tip of my tiara, before finally dropping to my face. He didn’t smile, never mind offer a compliment. Maybe this had been a bad idea.
The prince tipped the entire contents of one flute down his throat, gulping and grimacing. Judging by his unsteady stance, it was far from his first drink of the evening.
“Maybe you should slow down,” I suggested, instantly hating myself for it. “Anwir doesn’t want any foolishness.”
Why was I parroting him as though I cared what he wanted? To hell with Anwir. I took another gulp of my own wine. Idris downed his second glass as though he’d read my thoughts and agreed wholeheartedly.
“Well, now look at what you’ve done. You’ve got nothing left,” I observed, nodding at his empty glasses.
As though summoned, a serving tray passed by, and Idris seized two fresh glasses. The look he gave me was complete and utter challenge, daring me to admonish him. He held my gaze as he lifted the wine to his lips and drained the flute, swallowed and licked his lips.
Despite myself, I laughed. “Okay, fine. Is the party really that bad?”
He blinked, swaying on the spot, but opened his mouth to answer. Finally. At least I wasn’t talking to a wall.
“It’s not th–”
“Pansy!” I glimpsed a familiar head of coils in the crowd. “Sorry, Idris. My friend…”
I dashed between laughing, chattering ball goers, my stomach flipping. I hadn’t expected Pansy to attend, but I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to spend some time with her before I left.
My stomach tightened at the sight of my friend’s face. It had only been a week, but the weight had dropped from her previously plump cheeks, ageing her. Or maybe it was the dull skin or swollen eyelids. Whatever it was, grief cloaked her like a veil.
“You came,” I said, catching her up. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
The witch’s smile was heartbreakingly small. Unlike the other witches, she hadn’t bothered to dress up. Her deep aubergine dress was pretty in a hippy kind of way, but as unadorned as ever. “Neither was I, but I thought I should show my face to support your victory.”
I shouldn’t be wearing a ridiculous ballgown or a starburst of diamonds. Hyacinth had died, and we were celebrating. I gave my best, disinterested shrug. “Anwir insisted on it. Apparently, a party is going to help him win back his throne.”
I glanced at the sky. Between a dark patchwork of clouds, stars winked down at me. What did witches believe about death? Had the candles burnt down for Hyacinth’s soul to drift to the stars or the heavens or wherever else?
“I heard you’re going to stay?” Pansy asked, bringing my attention earthward again. “To help him?”
Ruse or not, I could trust Pansy with the truth. I shook my head. My tiara tugged gently at my hair as it swayed. “No,” I whispered, leaning in so only she could catch my words. “I should have gone home already, but Anwir asked me to stay just for this, and promised he’d take me home afterwards. Don’t tell anyone, will you?”
“Of course I won’t. I’ll miss you. I know I haven’t been the best friend lately, but I will. I’ll miss you a lot. I wish there was a way you could stay.”
As reluctant as I was to admit it, there was a tiny part of me that wished that too. Returning to normal, mundane life would be strange after this adventure. Leaving these people… a fortnight ago, if anyone had told me I’d miss them, I’d have laughed in their face, but now… I didn’t need to be told. “We’ll find a way to visit,” I insisted, my throat growing tight. The rifts were open now. Why shouldn’t I come back? Why shouldn’t Pansy visit my world?
My friend nodded as though she didn’t really believe it. All the fun, all the spirit had sapped out of her, leaving a hollow shell of the girl she had been only a week ago.
“I appreciate you coming, but if it’s too soon, I really don’t mind if you want to sneak away. If I’m honest, I feel like doing the same.”
Surprise flitted over Pansy’s face, a momentary spark of life. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”
“I thought I would,” I admitted, “but it turns out balls aren’t all they”re cracked up to be. Now I’m supposed to mingle.” I grimaced at the word, giving a little shudder for effect. For my theatrical efforts, I won a single, quickly strangled chuckle.
“I’ll keep you company for a while. It’s probably good for me to be out of my room, even if it doesn’t feel like it.” Her voice trembled as she spoke.
I pushed my glass into her hand. “You need this more than I do. Shall we go and have a look at the food?”
God knew, she could do with a decent meal. Pansy looped her arm through mine and together, we wove our way through the crowd.
I had to hand it to the witches, they knew how to work fast. From healing wounds in record time, to creating ballgowns, to pulling together a party, it seemed they didn’t let a little thing like the passage of time get in their way.
Elaborate floral arrangements peeked over the head of even the tallest fae in the crowd, all brought to life by a rainbow of fairies. The music drifted along on the night air, and here and there, fragrant fires burnt, warding away the slight chill. The only flaw in their arrangements was the view from the buffet table.
Though obscured slightly by the guests who crowded its edges to watch, I had a clear enough view of the dancefloor. Of Anwir, as he held a fae beauty in his arms. And then another, and another. It seemed his idea of mingling involved close physical contact with the prettiest of guests. Though the battleaxe didn’t break a smile, he even took Sage for a turn, the height difference making them faintly ridiculous. Lady Celyn, who came next, made a better-suited partner.
Nibbling my food without tasting it, I watched the pair dance. Celyn was as graceful as she was beautiful, and when she smiled, she put my artificial glow to shame. What did Anwir need me for? The brave and beautiful steward of Tir o Gaeaf would make a better queen than I ever could. At least she knew how to rule a kingdom while holding Maelgwyn at bay.
I could never measure up to Lady Celyn.
Beside me, Pansy watched the dancing through vacant eyes, sipping the fairy wine I’d forced upon her. My idle thoughts of how to get it back came to an abrupt halt when Celyn disengaged herself from the prince and made a beeline for me.
Her porcelain skin was flushed a pretty shade of pink as she curtsied. “Your Majesty, congratulations on your success. This is a joyous occasion.”
My arm grew chilled as Pansy drifted away from my side.
“It is,” I agreed, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Not without its losses, though.”
Celyn arranged her face into a solemn expression. “I heard that a number of witches were lost.”
“Two. Meadow and Hyacinth were killed by Maelgwyn’s barghests.” It seemed important that people should know. That they remembered.
“A terrible fate, but a worthy cause to give one’s life to.” Celyn’s voice became cheery again. “The princes are awake. Our Human Queen truly has come, just as the prophecies foretold. It is only a matter of time before Maelgwyn is forced to answer for his crimes and our people are freed.”
“Yes,” I agreed, my teeth clenching into what I hoped was a smile rather than a grimace. “If you’ll excuse me, Lady Celyn…”
I caught no glimpse of Pansy as I picked my way through the throng. I couldn’t blame her. The urge to disappear to my own room grew stronger with every passing minute. My search for a friendly face was hindered by enthusiastic fae and witches, none of whom I recognised from my time in Nairsgarth, and the curious stares of other creatures. Some, with colourful hair and ridiculously elongated pointy ears, I took to be elves. Pansy had told me about them when I’d fished for information on vampires. As surprising as it was to see them here, I couldn’t summon much interest in them. Where had they been while Hyacinth bled out?
I couldn’t I take a step without being congratulated, without someone begging for the tale of how the curse came to be broken at last. I forced my smile until my cheeks ached and tried to remember that these people had lived without hope for centuries. My presence was the reason they might be reunited with long-lost loved ones. They had every right to be excited and hopeful. If only they knew I would abandon them all come morning…
When the first drops of rain fell, turning quickly into a torrential downpour, it came as something of a relief. Nobody was willing to spoil their hairdos or muddy their hems just to speak to the Human Queen. Tipsy, shrieking guests ran for the cover of the castle, a perfect opportunity for me to sneak away from the crowd and return to my rooms.
Hiking up my skirts to avoid the rapidly forming puddles, I hurried to the castle steps, squinting through the rain soaking my face. Someone had the same idea as me, but he was using the chaos to sneak away from the castle altogether.
Idris.
I hesitated at the foot of the steps, watching as witches, elves and fae streaked past. The prince walked with his head bowed against the downpour, disappearing around the corner of the castle. Where could he possibly be going in such weather? Not flying, surely? Or for a clifftop stroll? Not when he could barely stand straight. Was it any of my business?
Probably not, but if he was going to do something stupid–and I wouldn’t put it past him–I had to put a stop to it. I no longer suspected him as a traitor, but seeing him sneaking off under the cover of darkness was enough to have my innards churning with unease. Teetering in my heels, I jogged after him, cursing his name with every soggy step. Freezing rain pelted my bare face and shoulders with all the ferocity of hailstones, and when a particularly deep puddle sloshed right over my shoe, the flame of my curiosity sputtered and almost died. Almost.
What could be important enough to lure the prince further out into the waterlogged grounds? If he was planning to teleport into enemy territory again, I had to at least try to talk him out of it. What if an ambush was waiting for him? What if he didn’t have the reaction time he needed to escape?
Clinging to the meagre shelter offered by the ivy-riddled walls, I quickened my pace. When I turned the corner Idris had disappeared around, I squinted, spotting him meandering in the direction of the cliffs, and the path that led to Hyacinth’s cove. This was no weather for a beach stroll. Was it the wind that whistled like that?
Through a shimmering sheet of rain, something large and ghostly pale moved in the distance, speeding toward Idris.