Chapter 34
The library party was already underway when Lara and I arrived. Faeries laughed, snacked, and drank—of course—as they examined curiosities in display cases. A small cheer went up when we entered. I stopped, startled by the sound.
“The Princess of Blood,” Imogen announced, hurrying over. I flinched, but she gripped my hands in hers like we were bosom friends. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled. “We were discussing the melee. What a remarkable performance.”
It was my first time seeing her since the battle. “Thank you,” I said, words clipped. “What an interesting show you decided to put on.” I looked beyond her, wondering whose benefit this conversation was for, and found a small cluster of faeries watching, Torin and Rowena among them.
Hate whipped through me, and I imagined letting Caedo slither into my hand and stabbing them both repeatedly. Then I smiled at them, because that was the nature of this war for the next seventeen days.
Rowena simpered in response, but Torin’s cold expression didn’t change. He raised his glass of wine, hesitated with it just before his mouth, then tipped it towards me. It felt more like a threat than a toast.
Imogen was still prattling on about the melee.
“Funny, isn’t it? Some think mirth and merriment can’t coexist with strength.
But the most notorious warrior was one of the first to fall, and here I stand, the victor.
How embarrassing for everyone else.” She laughed, and most faeries nearby laughed with her.
Rowena narrowed her eyes at Imogen, then gripped Torin’s arm and pulled him close to murmur in his ear. His jaw clenched, and he nodded.
Imogen asked me the next question in a stage whisper. “Is Drustan as upset about losing as Torin is? These princes have such fragile feelings.”
Imogen clearly hadn’t forgiven Torin for publicly chastising her, though I wondered if alcohol was once again to blame for her antagonizing him—she had that look. “I wouldn’t presume to know anything about Drustan’s feelings,” I said coolly.
It wasn’t a joke, but Imogen giggled. “That’s wise of you,” she said, squeezing my hands. Then she released me, gesturing for a servant who immediately offered both of us wine. “To the Princess of Blood,” she said, raising her fresh glass, “who has proven herself to be truly one of the Fae.”
“One of the Fae,” the crowd echoed.
My skin crawled, but I pretended to sip with them before setting the wine aside.
Imogen drained half of the glass, then blinked, looking surprised. “Shards, this is strong.”
“It should be, for how expensive it was,” Rowena said. She was smiling, but her blue eyes were icy. “You should experiment with pleasures you don’t have to pay for.”
What a hypocrite. How much gold had Rowena paid last night for the right to destroy that sylph?
“You should thank me for providing such expensive pleasures,” Imogen said.
“You’re borrowing my good taste.” She was slurring her words now, and even her sycophants looked taken aback.
A merry queen was one thing, but it wasn’t even noon.
Ulric watched with his arms crossed and lips pursed.
Even her most loyal supporter seemed to be questioning this reckless indulgence.
Imogen passed a hand over her forehead, frowning. “I tire of this.” She snapped her fingers—badly—and a servant appeared with a tray. She set the glass down clumsily. “I’m going to bed.” Then she swept away, the train of her fuchsia dress hissing behind her as the crowd parted to let her through.
The buzz of gossip immediately started. I looked after Imogen, a crinkle between my brows. Then I studied Rowena, who looked far more cheerful now.
Was Imogen drunk, or had Rowena slipped something into the wine? What reason would she possibly have for doing that?
“How embarrassing,” Rowena told Torin, just loud enough to be overheard. “I hope she sleeps off some of that mirth and merriment before tonight.”
And there was the reason. Imogen had publicly humiliated Torin, so Rowena was humiliating her in return.
There were deep fractures in the relationship between Illusion and Light. Would we be able to take advantage of that? My first impulse was to ask Kallen what he thought.
That would mean facing Kallen again, though. Which would mean thinking about his body surging against mine. I did a quick survey of the room and was both relieved and dismayed when I didn’t see him.
I tugged on Lara’s arm, and we moved deeper into the library.
It was enormous, with shelves extending twenty feet overhead and far into the distance.
Golden ladders rolled on tracks, pausing next to the faeries perusing the collection as if offering their services.
Most of the activity was in the main reading area, which had been cleared of desks to allow for mingling, but I spotted a few figures wandering between the labyrinthine shelves.
“That was tense,” Lara said.
“Hmm.” A black-clad figure down one aisle caught my eye, but it wasn’t anyone I recognized, and disappointment shot through me.
Kallen was supposed to be here today. Was he avoiding me?
“You’re being odd,” Lara commented.
My attention snapped back to her. “What? I’m not being odd.”
She pursed her lips. “So you are listening to me. You’ve been frowning and staring into space all morning, and you keep blushing.”
“No, I don’t,” I said reflexively, even as my cheeks started to heat again.
“Does it have something to do with you coming home late last night?”
I covered my face with my hands. “No.”
“Well, that’s certainly convincing.”
I peeked at her from between my fingers. “How did you know I was out late?”
“My room is across the hall from yours.” She narrowed her eyes. “Who were you with?”
“Who says I was with someone?”
Her brows rose.
My face was probably bright red. “It’s not important.”
“Was it Drustan?”
The question took me aback. Did she think…“No! Drustan and I are done.”
“Good. Flowers are not enough.” She still looked suspicious. “Who was it, then?”
“No one. I was just nervous about seeing Torin and Rowena after…you know.” We’d talked about what had happened at the brothel over a breakfast I’d barely been able to eat. A breakfast at which, apparently, I’d been blushing whenever my mind drifted to what had happened with Kallen afterwards.
“You’re lying to me.”
“No, I’m omitting.”
She gave me an unimpressed look. “You’ve spent too much time with the Fae if you think that’s a good argument.”
I rubbed my face, taking care to avoid the gold shadow Carys had applied to my eyelids. “Can we talk about this later? It’s…complicated.”
One of the most dangerous faeries in Mistei had his tongue in my mouth last night.
I was ready to fuck him on the floor, but he ran away from me.
Now we’re at a party that includes my former lover, multiple political factions who want to kill each other, and two faeries who want to kill me, specifically, and all I can think about is why he isn’t here yet.
Lara sighed. “Fine. You will tell me the truth soon, though, won’t you?”
“I will,” I promised. Though she would probably question my sanity.
The library doors opened again, and I turned to see who the newest arrivals were. Una, Hector…and Kallen.
There was a tumbling sensation in my belly.
I turned swiftly to look at a display case at the end of one row.
When I realized the case held a mummified cat, I grimaced and moved to the next one.
This was better: a palm-sized illuminated manuscript open to a page calligraphed in what must be the old language, with art depicting a dragon soaring beneath falling stars.
“This is interesting,” Lara said, bending to inspect the next case over. “A flute carved from a giant’s finger bone.”
“Giants are real?” I asked, startled. The flute looked like any other, except for being pure white.
“Who knows? Could be someone’s arm.” She tapped a nail against the glass. “Bone instruments are supposed to have mystical powers.”
That made me think of other objects in Mistei that had power. Who had sent that bird last night? I wished it were here so I could snatch it out of the air and crush it under my boot.
The back of my neck prickled. When I glanced over my shoulder, I found Kallen staring at me.
The sound of chatter grew fuzzy as everything else receded. I was vaguely aware of Una beside him, pointing at a gilt-edged book on a plinth, but the library might as well have been empty otherwise. My entire focus was taken up by midnight eyes and slightly parted lips.
Those lips had been on me last night. Goose bumps erupted at the memory.
Lara looped her arm through mine. “I want to find Gweneira to ask about the flute,” she said. “If anyone knows if it’s real, she will.”
The mention of Gweneira jarred me out of my stupor.
I forced a smile, then placed one foot in front of the other, letting Lara guide me.
It didn’t feel like I was properly in my body.
Half of me was still in a brilliantly lit sparring chamber, wanting desperately and wondering how it had all gone wrong.
Gweneira was on the opposite side of the room, which meant we would have to walk past Kallen to get to her.
I focused on his pitch-black tunic rather than his face.
That was quickly revealed to be a mistake, because it made me think about the scarred skin beneath and the ripple of muscles as he’d caged me in.
I tore my eyes away. The refreshment table. That was a good thing to look at. Mounds of grapes, plates of cheese, bread that was somehow still steaming from the oven. “Bread,” I said, pointing it out to Lara. The rest of that brilliant thought vanished, because Kallen was moving to intercept us.
Lara gave me a sidelong glance. “Bread?”