Chapter 33 The Drowned Court
THE DROWNED COURT
We reached a hall.
The translucent ceiling revealed the ocean—dark water, drifting shadows, the faint shimmer of the distant surface.
Long tables stretched along the sides of the chamber, laid with platters of roasted fish, bowls of crushed ice cradling shellfish, and pitchers of blue wine that nymphs poured into goblets.
Rheya would be darting between the dishes already, sampling everything.
Gods, I missed her.
Every day in Sanguir was another day she was out there alone.
Music drifted through the air, thrumming from pipes. Naiads lounged in shallow pools. Courtiers mingled nearby, watching our entrance with wry grins, and Soren reclined on a chair made of coral.
Kairos wheeled me toward a table, his touch sliding to my back. “Breathe.”
“I’m trying.”
He pulled out a chair for me. As I sat, his hand lifted to my shoulder, then down my arm.
A female in a luxurious purple dress beamed at me. Beside her sat a haughty-looking male with massive, powdery-white wings. His robes were white silk with gold embroidery, and hair like burnished gold spilled down his neck. His face was beautiful and cold, and his gaze didn't waver from Kairos.
Kairos leaned in. “That’s the Lunir queen, Taressa. And the asshole next to her is Lysander, the king of Caelir.”
“The one who sent the assassin?” I hissed.
“Mm.”
Lysander spoke to a courtier at his side, head tilted like he was listening. But his pale eyes never left Kairos. He laughed softly, nodded, even touched the courtier's arm. All while watching Kairos like a hawk tracking wounded prey.
My skin prickled. “I don’t like the way he’s staring at you.”
“He wants me dead,” Kairos grunted.
My heart clenched. “Why?”
“We have a history,” Kairos muttered. “The assassin was his latest attempt at being petty. He’ll smile at me tonight, make pleasant conversation, and the moment he sees an opening, he’ll try again.”
Lysander’s wings shifted, and the scars on Kairos’s back—those parallel slashes where wings should have been—flashed in my head. Questions burned on my tongue, but now wasn’t the time.
I swallowed hard. “Then why is he still breathing?”
Kairos’s mouth twitched. “Because killing him would start a war.”
“That hasn’t stopped you before.”
He leaned over, his eyes glittering. “Careful. You’re starting to sound like you want blood.”
Heat crept up my neck. Right. The role.
I softened my expression, leaning into his side as I wrapped my arm around his. “I don't like anyone who wants to hurt you. Is that so terrible?”
His gaze dipped to my neckline, and a slow smile curved his lips.
Slowly, his hand settled on my thigh. I stopped breathing. His palm was warm and heavy. He didn’t grip me, just palmed my naked skin like he'd done it many times.
His fingers drifted inward, brushing my inner thigh, and my body clenched. I couldn't breathe. His thumb stroked slow circles as his other hand lifted, curving around the back of my neck.
Then his mouth sealed over mine. Hot and demanding. His lips slanted against mine, swallowing my gasp, and heat flooded my veins like wildfire. His hand tightened on my nape, angling me deeper, and I grabbed his arm just to stay upright.
His tongue traced the seam of my lips, and when I opened for him, he licked into my mouth. The room disappeared. The music, the watching courts, the weight of Lysander's stare—all of it dissolved into the taste of him, the heat of him, the way his fingers slowly inched higher.
When he finally pulled back, I was panting.
He wasn't. His breathing was perfectly even. Only the faint curve of his lips betrayed any reaction at all, like he'd done nothing more strenuous than sample the wine. His smile widened. Then he cupped my cheek and patted it.
“Good girl,” he murmured. “Stay right here.”
Then he rose, adjusting his tunic, and stalked toward Lysander.
My lips were swollen. My face was on fire. Between my thighs, I was aching. I reached for my goblet with trembling fingers, took a large gulp of wine, and choked.
The chair beside me scraped back, and the Thalir king settled in with a casual grace.
Up close, Soren was even more striking. Sun-kissed bronze skin.
Copper hair that fell in sleek waves. Scales.
Barely visible, tracing delicate patterns along his cheekbones, down his neck, disappearing beneath his robes.
He was beautiful in a way that felt dangerous.
The kind of face that mortals followed into deep water.
“Tell me, Aelie,” he said, his tone measured. “What do you think of my palace?”
“It’s lovely. Like the walls are breathing.”
He nodded stiffly. “An accurate observation. They weren’t carved from stone like your fortresses. We shape our home with runes and weave the coral.” Soren gestured to the glowing veins. “It expands as needed.”
“How does water stay out?”
“Current manipulation. You’ve been with Kairos how long?”
“A few weeks.”
“And he brings you to a gathering no human has been permitted to witness, dressed in the hide of a very rare animal.” He paused. “That suggests extreme sentiment or strategic value. Kairos doesn’t strike me as sentimental.”
“With respect, Your Majesty, I’m not sure anyone here is.”
He didn’t smile. “Correct.”
He’s the strangest fae I’ve ever met.
Silence stretched between us, his unblinking stare never wavering.
“You were afraid at the platform. When you had to jump into the water.”
My stomach tightened. “I was nervous.”
“You were terrified. Heart rate elevated. Shallow breathing.”
“You’re very observant, Your Majesty.”
He tilted his head. “You’re uncomfortable being analyzed. Most people are. They find it invasive.”
“Because it is.”
“True. But discomfort often reveals more than comfort. You told Kairos you were a bad swimmer.” He frowned. “Yet he brought you to an underwater realm. Why would he bring his human somewhere she’s inherently vulnerable?”
“Maybe he knew I’d be safe.”
“You’re completely at his mercy here. So either you trust him absolutely, or you need him enough that the risk is worthwhile. Which is it?”
I licked my lips. “I don’t know what you mean, Your Majesty.”
“Vaeris arrived yesterday morning,” Soren said, shifting topics with unsettling ease. “Early. Three hours before the scheduled time. That’s unusual.”
“Hm.”
Soren’s eyes gleamed. “You’re afraid of him. Interesting.”
I dragged air in my lungs. “I’m not afraid of King Vaeris.”
“Another lie. You’re not very good at this.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “Your tells are obvious. Pupil dilation, increased respiration, hand tension.”
Gods, he’s exhausting. “Uh—”
“Two kings, both with interest in a human girl. Why?”
My mouth dried. “Um, no idea.”
“Yes, you do. Why are you worth fighting over?”
I forced a smile. “Caelir nearly went to war over Queen Isara, didn’t they?
And the battle of Aurion’s Gate—all because three brothers wanted the same bride.
” I lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Honestly, Your Majesty, if you gave them a wooden spoon and told them only one could have it, we’d be in the same situation. ”
His gaze bored into mine. “You’re very educated. Aurion’s Gate is obscure history.”
“I like to read.”
“Aren’t humans banned from libraries in Skalgard?”
“Yes, along with about a hundred other things. Forgive me, Your Majesty, but breaking rules is how you survive in Skalgard.”
“So you’re brave enough to break laws in a realm known for executing humans who step out of line.” He paused. “I don’t think you’re just a war prize.”
This male was annoyingly sharp. I glanced over his head, searching for Kairos. He’d been watching earlier, but now he stood with his back to me, deep in conversation with Lysander.
Then a guttural vibration rumbled from the floor, searing up my spine. A primal sound, older than the bones of this world, struck my heart like lightning.
My hand shot out, clutching Soren’s arm.
He went completely still.
I released him, heat flooding my face. “I—that sound—”
“What sound?” he said sharply.
“Underneath our feet. The—the roar. You didn’t hear it?”
The ground trembled, deeper this time. It vibrated inside me, the growl rising from the depths, and I gripped my chair.
Soren’s brows rose. “Human ears aren’t capable of such frequencies.”
Then Kairos sat on the other side of me—thank the gods. His arm came around my shoulders, pulling me to him.
“Are we ready to get started?” he grumbled.
Soren still watched me. “Waiting on Skaldir.”
My skin prickled as though from a frigid wind. I looked up, and everything inside me stilled.
Vaeris stood near the table, cloaked in dark blue. Silver-threaded runes curled over his sleeves like frost. His black hair was shorter, his stubble gone. His eyes took in the assembled rulers, the watching courtiers. Then they landed on me.
There he was. The male who’d written that I was everything to him. I felt… nothing. No longing. Just a hollow emptiness where love used to be.
Soren rose from his chair. “We begin.”
The room fell silent.
“You’re here because Kairos of Sanguir breached Skalgard’s palace, killed the monarchs, and took a human from their realm.” Soren’s voice carried through the hall. “Skaldir and Caelir claim this was an unprovoked act of war. Sanguir claims justification.”
My stomach twisted.
“If we cannot reach an agreement, Caelir will honor its alliance with Skaldir and war will follow.” Soren’s gaze swept the room. “Lunir remains neutral but will cut trade with any aggressor. Thalir will not involve itself unless our waters are violated.”
He gestured to the king of Caelir, who stood with wings folded against his back. “King Lysander stands with Skaldir.”
My blood chilled.
“And Vaeris of Skaldir”—Soren motioned to Vaeris—”seeks justice for his father’s murder and the restoration of his realm’s honor. Tonight, we negotiate terms. Speak freely.”
“What is she doing here?” Vaeris snarled.