13. My Head Is In The Gutter
13
My Head Is In The Gutter
Aliza
I t’s not a date. It’s not a date.
If that was true, then why did I feel like I was going to vomit up whatever I managed to eat? My heart hummed in my chest, beating as rapidly as fairy wings as I slipped into the hall where lunch was served, trying to remain inconspicuous. I pressed myself against the wall and stared around, searching for a shock of dark hair.
The room was already brimming with witches. They clustered around the rectangular stone tables, chatting over their meals. A melee of delicious scents assaulted my nose, and my stomach roiled in response.
I was being stupid. I’d worked my way through quite a few meals with Idris. This was no different.
Except it was. This wasn’t necessity or convenience. We wanted to have lunch together.
I’d asked Pansy to join me in an effort to make this arrangement innocent, but she’d refused. She’d told me she preferred to eat in private these days, away from sympathetic eyes and well-meaning comments that left her fighting to maintain her composure. Her story was plausible, but I wasn’t dim, as she’d called me. I knew full well what she was doing .
“Hi.”
I smiled at the soft voice in my ear. The word was unnatural on Idris’ formal tongue, something he’d picked up from me. It turned my insides to honey, even as the hairs on my body rose in response to the gentle charge emanating from him.
“Hi.” I turned to face him.
To my disappointment and relief, he’d changed out of his flight suit, replacing it with a deep green jacket embroidered with gold thread. Though the new outfit flattered every angle of his body, it didn’t have quite the same effect on me as the leather. My eyes flickered upward to find him already gazing down at me, soft-eyed. God, was Pansy right? Was this something more than lust for both of us?
Why didn’t I know what to say to him? Why was the air between us so alive?
“Are you actually hungry after all those pain-au-chocolates?” It seemed like days since we’d shared a picnic in the woods, just the two of us, not hours. Why was I so riled up and awkward after a simple kiss?
He gave me a sheepish grin, bowing his head and causing an errant lock of hair to fall forward. My fingers twitched. “Not particularly, but my feet carried me here anyway. You?”
“I could eat,” I lied. There was no room for hunger in my churning belly. “Shall we find a seat?”
Witches paused their chatter to watch us pass. I avoided eye contact, fixing my gaze on a table with only a few people sitting at one end, leaving plenty of space for Idris and me. Just a couple of friends, sharing a totally innocent lunch .
It took every ounce of concentration I possessed to wind my way between the tables without tripping on a chair leg, but by some miracle, probably down to my fledgling immortal grace, I made it to my destination in one piece and slid into my seat. Idris settled himself opposite, reaching for the pewter jug.
An identical hand got there first.
Anwir dragged the jug out of his brother’s reach as he dropped into the seat beside me and poured me a drink. My heart sank to my feet and then some.
“Anwir,” I said, leaning away from the prince’s outstretched arm.
I met Idris’ eye briefly before he looked away, staring across the hall with unfocused eyes. Well, at least we weren’t alone together anymore, even if our third wheel was the last person I wanted to spend time with. I snatched a bread roll from a basket in the middle of the table and tore it in half.
“Have you given any thought to my proposal?”
I glowered at Anwir. At the edge of my vision, Idris shifted. “I told you I’d think about it and I will.”
“I’ve been thinking too,” he continued, seemingly oblivious to my clipped tone. No, not oblivious, just willfully ignorant and self-absorbed. “We should move further afield. Tir o Gaeaf remains loyal, and I can think of no better setting for our ball.”
Despite my annoyance, my heart skipped at the thought of the winter wonderland that was Tir o Gaeaf, with its palace sculpted entirely from ice, and its enormous frozen lake. “A ball on the lake,” I suggested, visions of moonlit skaters gliding over the ice in shimmering gowns swirling around my head. Anwir smiled in encouragement, and my dreamy excitement faded. “It’s a possibility, but like I said, I’ll think about it.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’ll begin making arrangements while you ponder. Time is of the essence, and these things don’t come together overnight.”
“Is another ball really necessary?” Idris asked Anwir. “You don’t think something a little more proactive might be a better use of resources?”
My insides squirmed with shame at my frivolous vanity. Though Nairsgarth was relatively peaceful, beyond its borders, people languished under a centuries-long tyrannical rule. People died. I knew that better than anyone; Maelgwyn had shown me first-hand exactly how he dealt with those who crossed him.
Anwir waved an airy hand. “A bit of merriment lifts spirits. Besides, it will take time to assemble our forces.”
“We don’t have time.” Idris’ blunt statement sent ice over my skin, as though I’d already arrived in Tir o Gaeaf. “Maelgwyn killed my son, and now he has moved against Aliza. It is only a matter of time before he discovers that she still lives. Will you do nothing and await his next move?”
“You weren’t in such a rush while you languished in the human world,” Anwir retorted slyly.
Another twinge in my gut. I didn’t regret easing Mum and Dad’s heartache, but maybe the selfless thing to do would have been to report to Anwir at once, to set things in motion.
“Delaying action until our return was unnecessary, and so is a ball. We need to act. ”
Anwir rolled his eyes. “Remember your place, little brother. I will decide what is necessary, but rest assured, no decisions will be made until we arrive in Tir o Gaeaf and take a report from Lady Celyn. We will mobilise the coven and then teleport in a few day’s time.” He turned his gaze to me, his eyes full of artificial warmth. “But if our queen wants a ball on the lake, then she shall have one.”
I didn’t want one, not anymore, and definitely didn’t want him to look at me like that .
I reached for a nearby tureen, stirring the soup with trepidation. The creamy concoction appeared to be vegetable, so I ladled it into my bowl. “What does your lover think of all this?” I was careful to keep my tone light, but I glared at my soup as though it had been the one to make a fool of me.
“Pardon?”
“The one who can’t give you living heirs.” The venom in my voice surprised me, as did the burning in my veins. Maybe I was angrier about this than I thought.
Anwir’s handsome face hardened, and a muscle ticked in his clenched jaw. “That is none of your concern,” he ground out.
“Is she here in Nairsgarth? Do I know her?”
I’d almost asked Idris who she was, the night he’d found me in the cave, but I’d decided it was best I didn’t know. Why was I suddenly flooded with morbid fascination?
“Why do you want to know?” Anwir narrowed his eyes.
I shrugged, looking away. Across the table, Idris stared studiously at his empty plate. So much for our illicit lunch. “I want to know if I need to watch my back. I have enough knives lodged there. ”
An impatient tut drew my attention to Anwir once more. “She is aware of our arrangement. She is understanding.”
“There is no arrangement.”
“Not yet, but—”
“Don’t push it, Anwir,” I snapped.
“Excuse me.” Idris rose gracefully to his feet. He offered no further explanation before prowling away. I tracked his progress across the hall before he disappeared through the door, the ache in my chest growing with every step he took.
“I hope you took heed of my earlier words,” Anwir said, interrupting my reverie.
She was more than his wife.
How could I forget?
“Of course I did.” I picked up my spoon with trembling fingers and stirred my soup. I’d taken heed, but that didn’t change anything. I didn’t have to act–or refrain–because Anwir had spoken.
“I’m glad to hear it. I’m aware this is difficult for you, being trapped here, isolated with no family or friends. It’s natural to cling to imagined connections, and this bond—”
“You know what?” I dropped my spoon into my bowl with a clatter that drew the eyes of nearby witches. Soup splattered over the table but I lurched to my feet, heedless. “I’m not hungry.”
“Aliza…”
“I’ll let you know when I make up my mind.”
I didn’t wait for a response before aiming for the door. The worst part was, Anwir was right. I was alone.