Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The door to the elegant dining room bangs open. I jump and whirl around, thinking that we’re about to get attacked. We’re not. Well, I’m not about to get attacked at least. Someone else is, though.
Amusement gleams in Orion’s eyes as he watches Isera storm into the room with a murderous expression on her face. A garment in dark blue and silver is clutched in her fist, and she shakes it in the air before throwing it at Orion’s chest.
“What the hell is this?” she demands.
The ball of rich blue silk and gleaming silver threads hits Orion in the chest and then flutters down to land on the floor before his feet. He doesn’t glance down at it, though. Instead, his glittering eyes are fixed on Isera.
Amusement plays over his dangerously beautiful face. “It’s a dress.”
“I can see that,” Isera retorts. “What was it, and a note with a command on it, doing on my bed?”
“It wasn’t a command.”
“The note said, wear me.”
He waves his hand nonchalantly and flicks a glance up and down her body while he gracefully steps over the discarded dress and closes the distance between them. “I just thought you might want to wear something other than fighting leathers.”
I suck in a sharp breath.
In a heartbeat, Isera has grabbed him by the collar and summoned a shard of ice. Her blue and silver eyes flash dangerously as she yanks Orion’s face down to hers and presses the shard of ice against his throat.
“If you ever presume to think for me, or give me orders, again, I will slit your throat,” she warns.
A slow smile spreads across his lips, full of unapologetic challenge. “It’s just a dress.” He slides his tongue lightly along his bottom lip while raking his gaze up and down her body. “And you would look lethally beautiful in it.”
Tension crackles through the air like lightning as they just stare each other down in silence for another second.
Then Isera abruptly dismisses the shard of ice and uses her grip on Orion’s shirt to shove him back a step.
However, because the Unseelie King is both taller and more muscular than her, he only lets her shove him back less than half a step.
His eyes glitter with wicked amusement as he watches her.
“If you like the dress so much, you wear it,” Isera snaps.
“Sure.” That devilish smile on his lips widens as he begins unbuttoning his fancy shirt. “But if you wanted me to take my clothes off… again,” he adds with a knowing look, “you really could’ve just said so.”
My jaw almost drops when Isera actually blushes.
Heat flushes her cheeks, and her mouth opens a little, but no words make it out.
Orion stops trying to unbutton his shirt and instead cups her cheek. A truly villainous smile decorates his gorgeous face as he slides his thumb over her bottom lip and then across her flushed cheek.
“Perfection,” he murmurs.
She slaps his hand away.
Across the room, Lyra, Alistair, and Galen look between the two of them in confusion.
“Uhm, did we… miss something?” Alistair asks.
Isera flicks her gaze to him. Her eyes widen in surprise when she realizes that he is wearing a fancy tunic in Orion’s signature dark blue and silver. As is Galen. And both Lyra and I are wearing elegant shirts in the same colors as well.
When I got to the room that Orion assigned to me here in the castle, I found a set of fresh clothes waiting on the bed.
A pair of nice black pants and an elegant dark blue shirt, with a few silver details on it, in a style that leaves my shoulders bare.
I destroyed the white shirt that I wear under my fighting leathers when I wrapped it around Draven in that cave, so I gratefully put on the fresh clothes that Orion provided, since I didn’t want to wear the thick leathers while eating dinner.
The only person who apparently insisted on wearing his own clothes is Draven, who has been standing by the wall in his black dragon scale armor and watching the unfolding events with an amused smirk on his lips.
When Isera realizes that everyone else received clothes to wear as well, she starts in surprise and then snaps her gaze down to the dress on the floor.
For a fraction of a second, I swear I can see a wave of embarrassment crash over her face before she manages to hide it behind that impassive mask that she usually schools her features into.
Clearing her throat, she simply strides over to the table and takes a seat. Behind her back, Orion lets out a silent chuckle while absolute victory shines on his face. Whatever weird game they’re playing, he apparently won this round.
Chairs scrape against the rich dark blue carpet as we all sit down around the beautifully decorated dining room table. It’s the same private dining room that we gathered in when we first came to the Unseelie Court several months ago now.
The chandelier filled with faelight gems casts sparkling light across the room, making it look like stars are dancing over the beautiful landscapes and night skies that are shown in the paintings on the walls.
Just like last time we were here, there are nine chairs around the table.
Four plain ones on either side of the table, and then one grand high-backed one at the head of the table.
This time, however, Isera doesn’t insist on sitting as far from Orion as possible. Instead, all six of us claim the chairs closest to Orion’s fancy one.
A moment later, a group of smartly dressed fae men and women walk through the door with plates of food and pitchers of wine. Once we have all been served, they bow to their king and then retreat again.
“Well then,” Orion begins, and swirls his wine while glancing towards Galen and the others. “How did our other group fare?”
Galen looks to Draven, who nods.
“It took some convincing, but the Blue Clan will stand with us,” Galen announces with a small smile on his lips.
Across the table, Draven mirrors the smile and gives his friend another nod in acknowledgement. “Good work.”
I have to suppress a smile when that small gesture makes Galen hold his head a little higher. To his left, Orion just arches a dark brow.
“And?” he prompts.
Galen clears his throat and glances back at the Unseelie King before sweeping his gaze over all of us. “And that’s it. We also managed to visit the Brown Clan, and we tried to convince them, but well… They were very stubborn.”
Draven lets out a huff of laughter. “Shocker.”
“Right?” Galen smiles before his expression turns serious again. “They admitted that they might be open to the possibility, but they won’t seriously consider joining us unless we have the Green Clan on our side.”
A groan escapes me.
He shifts his attention to me. “I take it that means you had no luck with the Green Clan?”
I shake my head. “They didn’t even open the door.”
Tilting his head to the side in a half nod, he lets out a small sigh. “Can’t say I’m surprised.” His gaze shifts to Draven, and a hint of hope fills his voice as he asks, “And the Orange Clan?”
“Rin is wearing dragon steel,” Draven replies, his expression grim.
Both Galen and Lyra curse.
“I should’ve known.” Draven heaves a deep sigh and rakes both hands through his hair.
“Or at least suspected. Of course Bane and Jessina would have more than just the single piece of dragon steel they were using on me. And if they were going to use it on anyone, it was definitely going to be Rin. Controlling the only person with healing magic is vital.”
Silence descends over the dining room. For a few moments, only the faint dings from our utensils as we continue eating fill the room.
“But we did manage to convince Diana,” Draven continues eventually. Then he grimaces. “Mostly, anyway. She’s willing to join us once we have more clans on our side.” He looks from Galen to Lyra. “Did you visit anyone else?”
“No.” Lyra takes a large gulp of wine and then lifts her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “We didn’t have time.”
“Alright, so that leaves the Green Clan, the White Clan, and the Red Clan.” He drums his fingers on the dark wooden tabletop. “The Green Clan probably still won’t open the door if we go back now.”
“They respect Rin, though,” Galen adds with a considering look on his face. “So if we can somehow get the Orange Clan on our side, the Green Clan will probably be willing to listen. And then if we get the Green Clan, we’ll also get the Brown Clan.”
“I never realized how much politics there is among all your clans,” Alistair suddenly says. His pale brows are furrowed in what looks like genuine surprise and confusion. “I thought you were all… I don’t know? United. Like, one cohesive nation who collectively agree on everything.”
Draven, Galen, and Lyra all burst out laughing. Even Orion snickers into his wine before taking a long sip.
“Azaroth’s flame, no,” Lyra presses out between bursts of laughter.
“There are tons of culture differences between all the clans, which have created a lot of both conflict and collaborations over the years. Some clans have more history with each other than others, but we’ve all tried to outmaneuver each other in different ways more than once.
It’s quite fun, actually.” A mischievous grin spreads across her mouth.
“Especially when you know exactly which social norms to break in order to create maximum chaos.”
Alistair lets out an approving chuckle and raises his glass at her in salute.
“What did I tell you last time we were here?” Galen begins.
“And again at the Blue Clan’s capital? And outside the walls of the Brown Clan’s lands?
” He gives Lyra a pointed look full of exasperation.
“Don’t rope him into your craziness. You alone are enough of a menace.
Together, the two of you would level cities to the ground. ”
Lyra and Alistair just exchange a devilish grin across the table.
“Shall we get back to the point?” Orion interrupts, and arches an expectant eyebrow at the rest of us.
“Right.” I swallow a bite of food and set my fork down.
“So have I got this right? We need the Green Clan, for multiple reasons, but to get them, we first need to get the Orange Clan? And we can’t get them unless we somehow neutralize the dragon steel that Rin Tanaka is wearing?
Which we also can’t do because she will try to capture or kill us if we come near her? ”
“That about sums it up,” Galen agrees.
“Which then brings us back to Lavendera,” I continue.
Draven shoots me a scowl. “I’ve already told you, we won’t be able to turn Lavendera against the Icehearts.”
Pressing my lips together, I drum my fingers on the table but don’t argue since I’m pretty sure that he’s right.
Especially if my suspicions are correct that Lavendera is Bane Iceheart’s bastard child.
It would also explain what Diana said. That Lavendera has been given the important task of locating the mysterious Gold Clan. If they—
I gasp out loud.
The others, who had apparently continued the discussion while I was lost in thought, turn to stare at me in confusion.
Slamming my palms down on the table, I look from face to face.
“By Mabona! That’s why they’re looking for the Gold Clan.
” I turn to Orion. “You said that the Icehearts were able to subjugate the Green Clan by threatening their archives, but that the Green Clan managed to get the wards back up and therefore don’t really do the Icehearts’ bidding anymore. ”
Understanding dawns on his face as well. “The Gold Clan could destroy the wards around the archives.” His already pale face suddenly grows even whiter. “And around my court as well.”
Draven curses under his breath. “If they get the Gold Clan, and then the Green Clan as well, we’re screwed.”
“He’s right,” Galen agrees, and draws a hand through his blond hair.
“Kander von Graf could change all of our memories. He could make it so that we don’t even remember that we know each other.
He wouldn’t normally do something so dishonorable, but if they threaten to destroy his archives…
” He shakes his head, leaving the rest of his sentence unspoken.
Isera takes a sip from her wine and then studies us all from over the rim of her glass, but she says nothing, and the impassive mask on her face makes it difficult to know what she’s thinking. Light from the faelight chandelier casts glittering light across her face.
“Can we get the Gold Clan?” I ask into the now tense silence.
Everyone looks from face to face. In the end, it’s Draven who replies.
“I wouldn’t even know where to start looking,” he says.
The silence around the table tells me that the others were thinking the same thing.
“So Rin Tanaka is the key, then?” Lyra says, shifting the conversation back to a more realistic plan.
“No, Lavendera is the key,” I argue.
Draven shoots me an incredulous look. “How many times do I have to tell you? We won’t be able to turn her.”
“What we really need is the Red Clan,” Alistair interrupts before I can retort.
“They control the Seelie Court. So if we can get them on our side, we will also get the entire Seelie Court.” He turns to me.
“You were in some kind of resistance group, right? They should be able to contribute a lot more once they don’t have to worry about Gremar Fireclaw breathing down their necks. ”
Draven draws a hand over his jaw. “That’s… actually a good idea.”
Alistair shoots him an indignant scowl. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that tone of surprise in your voice.”
On the other side of the table, Orion smirks into his wine glass.
“Alright,” Draven says, letting his hand drop and sitting up straighter.
“We’ll focus on the Red Clan next. But Gremar is…
tricky to deal with. Especially now that he is the new Commander of the Dread Legion.
We can’t just show up. We need to draw him out, without him knowing that it’s us, and get him to meet with us alone. ”
The others nod in agreement.
I draw in a deep breath and nod as well.
And then, we start scheming.