CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE #2
My stomach twisted, and I groaned, starting to feel shaky and dizzy. And just so Godsdamned tired. All of the food around me, even food I didn’t like, was starting to look good to me. And then, so were the men. Men I would have never looked twice at.
But the Azete would. I stumbled then, the dizziness overwhelming.
The Hermit cursed under his breath.
“Please,” I begged. “I’m exhausted. I want to go back to my room. I can’t do any more tonight.” Every second I spent there, it was becoming more and more clear. Either I was going to go on a feeding rampage, or I was going to faint.
Or cry out of sheer exasperation and guilt. I was physically done, mentally past handling any more of the deception. I couldn’t take another second of Olivay’s parents fawning over me or having to pretend I was someone I wasn’t—could never truly be.
The Hermit shook his head with a long dramatic sigh. “You need to at least say goodbye to the prince before I can get you permission to retire. It will look strange otherwise, especially now after you’re so … publicly … acquainted.”
“Shut up.”
“Too much more of this and there’ll be nothing left to witness on the wedding night.”
“Enough,” I hissed. “I get it.”
His nostrils flared, and my scar burned. “Ensure you do.”
“Bastard,” I cursed under my breath. We rounded a table and were stopped by several nobles, congratulating me and offering praise for my beauty.
It took nearly a quarter of an hour to even get within earshot of Brennan.
“Off to find Finlay,” Rowan said.
“Ask him again,” Brennan said, frowning.
“I will. I promise.” Rowan slapped Brennan on the back and grinned before sneaking out of the tent, his red hair vanishing into the night.
What could Rowan ask Finlay that would concern Brennan? Was he asking if he knew where I was? If he’d seen me?
But before I could think more on it, Kienan saw me and nodded at Brennan, heading over to me.
A soldier I hadn’t seen before with a blond, closely shaved beard snuck in through the tent flaps. Brennan’s eyes widened as he signaled the soldier to come see him.
“Cousin,” Kienan said, and wrapped me in his arms.
“Cousin,” I replied. “I hope you’re not exhausting my betrothed with too much drink.”
He pulled back. “Are you insinuating I drink too much?”
Kienan was always at the bar when he came to the tavern. I took a guess and shrugged. “No. I would never.”
“You would never?” He raised a dark eyebrow. “It’s all you seem to do.”
I eyed the Hermit. Well, that information wasn’t in my fucking notes.
But Kienan laughed. “Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Princess Olivay.” He winked. “But I like the effort.” He glanced back at Brennan, then to me. “Off to kiss your betrothed again?”
“No,” I said. “Just say goodnight.”
He nodded. “Give him a minute.”
I narrowed my eyes. Brennan had pulled a piece of parchment from within his armor and was perusing it with the blond-bearded soldier.
“Why?” I asked.
Kienan shrugged. “Just trust me. Wait.” There was a warning in his voice.
I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. I needed to see that paper.
And then, my wish was granted. Brennan noticed me, and a sensation of guilt and betrayal—one directed right at me, at Olivay—was overpowering him.
I connected to his mind, and I could see what he held clearly. It was the sketch of a woman, drawn out in exquisite detail. She had long curly hair, wore a bra made of coins, and flowing skirts with more coins at her waist.
I nearly stumbled back, my body growing numb with shock, my heart beating too fast.
It was an exact rendering of me—of Samara. Every last detail, from the way I’d shaped my eyes, to the size of my lips, and the rise of my cheekbones, was drawn so perfectly it was almost like looking in the mirror the last two years.
And then I knew what Brennan had wanted Rowan to ask Finlay.
What mission he’d sent him on, and why all of my old friends had been so easily welcomed to the castle.
Brennan was searching for me. For the Azete that his father believed had caused the chimera attack.
The man I was betrothed to, who had kissed me so sweetly and passionately, was already hunting me.
There was a breakfast scheduled with House Kanos the following morning. But I feigned a headache—after all, there had simply been too much excitement the night before. And everyone knew Olivay was delicate, and not one for games or late nights. I was simply fulfilling her role.
In truth, though, I was sick to my stomach.
Finlay was helping Brennan hunt me down.
All the energy I still possessed was going into maintaining the glamour.
I was starving. I knew I needed to feed.
But I couldn’t stomach the idea of taking anything more from Brennan, or Olivay’s parents.
I was desperate for a break, desperate to spend a few hours in my head, not questioning every word I said, or turn of phrase.
Gods, even just the way I held myself, curtsied, or walked.
The ruse had worked, and I managed to spend the whole day almost entirely by myself. Well, almost.
Of course, by the afternoon, Lord Brandon became a constant shadow by my side, reminding me of important details regarding Olivay’s behavior, and warning me of who approached and whether I knew them or not.
I walked the castle grounds with him, visited a garden, and even had a chance to visit the library, where I found old leather-bound copies of the books that Olivay liked.
Some were titles I’d read myself when I was younger.
And then there was Abigail. She walked quietly behind us, and behind her, several of the guards that Brennan had assigned to my protection.
The only luck I had was I didn’t need to interact with any of them.
I could just walk in silence. And I was completely free of my guard when I returned to my room to nap.
It was becoming my favorite of Olivay’s activities.
While I relished the additional time alone, I was unable to rest. I was rereading the Hermit’s notes and rechecking my appearance in the mirror, making sure nothing had fallen out of place, no detail missed.
Before long, it was time to get ready again for the next celebration leading to Brennan and Olivay’s wedding. The engagement ball.
Going through the grooming process again with Abigail made me realize just how often I had relied upon my magic to quicken the steps needed, or to skip over them entirely.
It was almost agonizing to sit there for so long, to remain patient and still while she slowly, painstakingly laced up my dress. It was a dark green one this time that again exposed my shoulders and draped over my wrists and hands. The kind of green that would bring out Brennan’s eyes.
When I looked in the mirror, I had to admit, I was stunning. Or, Olivay was. And I didn’t need to use any extra magic to achieve the look. A golden diadem with small emeralds dangling from the chain sat delicately against my forehead, and matching emerald jewels hung from my ears.
As was the tradition, I was taken out into the hall where a dozen nobles of House Kanos had gathered along with another dozen soldiers sent to guard me.
King Dairen and Queen Noemay stood at the center.
“How is your head?” Olivay’s father asked me. His voice was full of too much concern, the kind that could lead me to feeding off of him.
Gingerly, I reached for my temple, careful not to disrupt the diadem, and winced. “Far better now, but I’m still taking it easy.”
He nodded and took my hand. “Of course.” His fingers squeezed around mine, the gesture surprisingly sweet.
I had a similar exchange with Olivay’s mother, though she hugged me again, nearly as tightly as she had the first night. I only half-hugged her in return, and that seemed to be enough.
We all walked through the castle again, coming upon the ballroom I’d seen earlier. The Hermit led us down a darkened hallway, hidden by a velvet curtain dyed the red of the flames in House Lafir’s sigil.
It brought us behind the ballroom, to the place where the royal herald stood and could announce us.
The high-ranking nobles of House Kanos entered first, announced one by one. Then it was just me, Olivay’s parents, the Hermit, and my lady-in-waiting.
Lord Brandon gave me a sharp look, hissing in my ear, “Remember, all eyes are on you tonight.”
“I know,” I mouthed, just as the herald finished introducing him. He vanished into the ballroom, and I held my breath as the King and Queen of Spartva were introduced.
A moment later, it was my turn.
“Welcome the bride of His Highness, Crown Prince Jaron Emmerson Rowan Brendathan, Her Highness, Princess Olivay, of House Kanos.”
Trying desperately to steady myself for the onslaught of eyes, I stepped into the doorway and crossed the threshold into the ballroom.
I was atop a small stage with a staircase to walk down.
The soldier, dressed in silver steel armor and a cloak in the blue of House Lafir, held out his arm to assist me down the final steps.
Without a helm on, I could see his green eyes and brown curls.
Another cousin in House Lafir, I assumed, as the room applauded and called out my name.
I turned quickly and curtsied before King Tirian’s table, bowing my head low, as the Hermit had instructed me to do, while I tried to take in the scene before me.
Four long tables lined the room, sitting a few feet before each wall.
Though the ballroom was easily four times the size of House Lafir’s tent, there were only half as many people in attendance.
The highest-ranking nobles from House Lafir sat at the longest table.
It stood behind the smaller one occupied by King Tirian and Brennan.
An empty seat with a set of plates sat beside him for me.
The stairs on which I’d entered the ballroom ran just over the right corner of the table. Torches flared against the wall, and a large banner with a blue moonstag and red flames hung from above.