Chapter 19
“That was intense,” Lara said.
I tried to ignore the stares as we wandered between tables. “They hate each other, don’t they?”
“Everyone hates Kallen.”
“I don’t.”
She grimaced. “I’m aware. I just don’t understand why.”
“Do you not remember him saving my life?”
That got her to pause. “Fine. He did one good thing, and I’m grateful for it. He also blackmailed you.”
“At least he didn’t pretend it was anything other than what it was.” He hadn’t hurt me, though he easily could have. Hadn’t seduced me to make me his ally. Hadn’t taught me to hope before ripping it away from me.
“I think your standards are too low.” Lara eyed my stubborn expression, then sighed. “I was rooting for him to gut Drustan, but that’s as far as I’m willing to go with the Kallen support.”
“Fair enough.” I wasn’t even sure how far I was willing to go when it came to supporting Kallen. I shaded my eyes, looking around. “Where should we go?”
Lara glanced over to where Oriana was seated with other members of Earth House, then quickly returned her attention to nearer tables. “Joining a Fire or Void group would make sense. We just have to decide which one.”
Even here, at this party dedicated to imagining Mistei’s peaceful future, most of the tables were segregated by house.
Edric had gotten up as soon as Kallen sat down next to Una, instead choosing to speak with Drustan.
Wherever Lara and I sat would be seen as a political statement, too, and either Fire or Void would benefit.
What would benefit Blood House? More members, mainly, but until that could happen, we needed a reputation that would make the others wary.
My strengths were in being bold and unexpected. An idea came to me, and though it made me nearly sick with nerves, it was the last thing Drustan, Hector, or anyone else would expect. “Let’s get to know Imogen, Torin, and Rowena.”
Lara looked at me askance. “Kenna!”
I tugged on her arm. “We’re not going to win by behaving like every other house, right? We have to do things they don’t expect.”
“I don’t want to talk to them,” she complained, though she let me pull her along.
“I don’t, either.”
“They tried to kill you.”
A huge part of why this was so terrifying—and also why I had to do it. “If I avoid them, it’ll look like I’m afraid, and they’ll feel even more emboldened.” I shook my head. “I’m not going to sit back passively and let Drustan or Hector tell me what to do.”
Lara grumbled under her breath but didn’t argue further.
The tables closest to Imogen’s were populated by Illusion and Light faeries.
As Lara and I passed, they watched us with a mixture of interest and disdain.
Ulric, the Illusion lord who had delivered the message about the Accord, stood before the high table, speaking with the three faeries seated there.
Imogen noticed me arriving, then nodded in my direction, and Ulric turned to look.
His brows rose fractionally, and then he bowed—first to the faeries at the table, then to Lara and me—and backed away.
Imogen sat flanked by Torin and Rowena, with three empty seats opposite. The self-proclaimed queen was smiling, twirling a glass of sparkling wine lazily between her fingers, while Torin and Rowena were studying me with their heads cocked at matching angles, like hawks perched on a branch.
I took the empty seat across from Imogen. Lara made a barely audible sound of protest, then joined me. Her polished expression was firmly in place, but I could tell from the eloquent look in her eyes that I had broken protocol.
Which was the entire point.
“Princess Kenna,” Imogen said. “And Lady Lara, too. How unexpected.” She set the wine down, then laced her hands together on the table, showing off silver rings topped with chunks of amethyst. “Do take a seat.”
“Princess Imogen,” I replied, ignoring the sarcasm. “What a lovely party.”
Her lips pursed. “My title is Queen, as we’ve discussed.”
“I’m not going to call you that.” Be bold , I reminded myself. Be blunt. If there was anything that put a silver-tongued faerie off guard, it was that.
Torin eyed me like I was an insect, but Rowena was beginning to look intrigued.
The summer day suited her type of beauty—her pale gold hair shimmered, her eyes were reminiscent of the clear sky, and the warmth had brought a flush out on her cheeks.
“How fascinating that you should choose to sit with us,” she said in that girlishly high voice.
“Shouldn’t you be at the Fire prince’s side? ”
I worked to keep my expression neutral. “Why would I be?”
“My handmaiden said it looked like he got in an argument with Lord Kallen over you.”
Torin sneered. “The two of them, quarreling over a human?”
“Not a human any longer,” Imogen corrected. The Illusion princess leaned in, giving me a conspiratorial look. “Tell me, Kenna, what were they arguing about?”
I smiled sweetly. “None of your business, Imogen.”
To my surprise, she laughed. Her lavender eyes sparkled, and the air shimmered with rainbow ripples. It was an illusion designed to enhance her beauty, and my skin crawled at the reminder of her power.
“You are disrespectful,” Torin said, frowning at me.
Deciding to go even further, I planted my hands on the table and leaned in. “And you aren’t? This is supposedly a peace period, yet Sun Soldiers released a bonebreaker salamander on my doorstep the other night.”
Lara kicked me under the table.
The three faeries looked taken aback. Because I’d dared to bring it up?
“Oh dear,” Rowena said, compressing her pink lips into a rosebud pout. “I don’t know a thing about that. Are you sure you didn’t imagine it?”
What nonsense. There was no way it had happened without Torin and Rowena’s approval, and her patronizing tone confirmed it. “Don’t imagine me to be weak because I used to be human,” I said. “And don’t imagine I’m going to rely on Fire or Void to fight my battles for me.”
All three looked even more intensely interested.
This was exactly what I wanted—to prove that I wasn’t a pawn in their larger game, but a new and unpredictable player they should be wary of.
I wasn’t sure how to back that impression up with action if it came down to it, but perception shaped reality in Mistei, and I would take any armor I could get.
“There will be no publicly sanctioned acts of violence during the Accord,” Imogen said.
Publicly sanctioned. I wasn’t an expert in all the nuances of faerie conversation, but I interpreted that easily enough. Imogen was telling me exactly what Drustan and Kallen had—that though everything might look peaceful on the surface, we were in for a month of backstabbing.
“How wonderful to hear,” I said. “I wouldn’t dream of publicly sanctioning anything I might do in retaliation.”
Lara kicked me again, but I ignored it. This was already worth it. I’d set them off-balance, and I was confronting the issue head-on, rather than waiting the way Drustan would want me to. I was doing this on my terms, not his.
“And what happened to these soldiers you imagine you saw?” Torin asked, running his finger over the rim of his goblet. Around and around, and I thought of the nymph he’d forced to dance on broken glass.
“In my imagination, it was gruesome.” I smiled, tapping one of my canines with my tongue. “What a relief none of it was real.”
He exchanged a glance with Rowena. They had been together for centuries—I wondered how much they could communicate in a single look. What could they do about it, though? If they pushed me for details, they would have to acknowledge dispatching those soldiers to begin with.
“Did you join us to exchange veiled threats?” Imogen asked. “This is more entertainment than I was expecting.”
“No,” I said, looking her in the eye. “I joined you because I don’t believe in avoiding confrontation, and I want everyone to know I’m not going to willingly follow wherever I’m led. I’d also like to hear your plans for ruling Mistei.”
Imogen’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. “How enchanting you are,” she breathed. “Yes, let us talk.” She stood, and when Torin and Rowena started to rise as well, she gestured for them to remain seated. “You may stay here and speak with Lady Lara.”
Torin and Rowena shot displeased looks at each other, then gestured for Imogen to lean in and began whispering to her.
Lara tugged on my sleeve. “What am I supposed to say to them?” she hissed in my ear.
“Talk about the weather?” I cringed at Lara’s damning look. “Maybe ask them about Gweneira or what their hopes for Mistei are. Or make polite conversation for a minute and then excuse yourself. You don’t have to stay.”
“I am going to murder you,” she said, fixed society smile still in place.
I nudged her arm. “You can do this.” Then I stood and made my way around the table towards Imogen.
“Do not forget who wears the crown,” I heard her murmur to Torin.
Torin’s posture grew stiff at that soft admonishment. Was there trouble in the Light-Illusion alliance?
Imogen finished the rest of her wine, then extended her hand to me, smiling. “Come, Princess Kenna. Let’s get to know each other better.”
We began walking side by side down the hill, and if I thought everyone had been staring before, it was nothing compared to now. Imogen and I were an odd pairing, and it didn’t help when she hooked her arm through mine as if we were close friends.
I was now questioning the wisdom of my plan, because this was a different political statement than the one I’d intended to make.
I was no longer just showing myself to be bold, unexpected, and unafraid of confronting my enemies.
Imogen had taken my direct approach and shifted it in her favor.
By inviting me for a walk where everyone could see, she was implying a potential alliance between our houses.
An impression wasn’t forever, I told myself as I struggled with the urge to rip my arm out of her hold. And maybe this was good. Maybe everyone should be unsure of my real motivations.