Chapter 4 Dining with the Devil
Dining with the Devil
Raewyn
Like me, Pharis was dressed in fine dinner attire.
His version of dressing for dinner included a black shirt and breeches under a black tailcoat embroidered with gold thread in an intricate pattern that carried over to his waistcoat.
His raven hair hung loose and straight tonight, and his olive-toned skin was flawless under the candlelight.
It was a travesty how Elven men could look so angelic on the outside while being so devilish inside.
The three footmen snapped into action, one of the men going to pull out Pharis’ chair for him while another filled his glass with wine.
The other bowed and placed silverware in front of him then asked, “What may I put on your plate, My Prince?”
As he was seated at the other end of the table, I couldn’t make out his answer, but the servant got to work, filling Pharis’ plate with his selections.
Clearly they were all terrified of him the way Kem was and presumably the healer as well.
I didn’t blame them. I’d hate to be in the employ of a cruel and powerful Elven prince who cared about nothing and no one but himself.
Pharis hadn’t spoken to me yet or even looked at me.
Though I hadn’t expected to be sharing a meal with him, he must have expected me here. He must have at least seen me.
Was he planning to give me the silent treatment as well as ordering his entire staff to?
When the footmen had retreated to their positions along the walls, he finally looked up and made eye contact.
That unearthly blue-green gaze of his was bright, even at this distance. He added a smile to it, completing the dazzling effect, but when he spoke his tone was blasé.
“You’re looking better. Are you enjoying the food?”
“Yes, thank you,” I said, my frosty tone in direct contrast to my polite words. “Where have you been?”
His grin widened. “Missed me, did you?”
I snorted. “Hardly. I just thought your mysterious ‘reasons’ for bringing me here might have been revealed by now. Time passes slowly when you’re all but alone and unsure of your fate—which is in the hands of a heartless ogre.”
Pharis just grinned and took a bite of a bread roll.
After chewing and swallowing, he gestured toward me with his butter knife.
“You’re not eating. Did you want something different… or are you so enamored of me that watching me eat is enough satisfaction for you?”
Without even looking down at my plate, I stabbed a bite of meat and shoved it into my mouth, chewing vigorously.
Pharis laughed. “Good girl. Wouldn’t want all this to go to waste. Chef’s feelings will be hurt.”
His facetious praise and infuriating smug face were spoiling my appetite. I wished I could get up and march out of the room. As I was trapped there with him, I decided to make use of the opportunity and try to get some answers.
“So I assume this is your castle?”
Gesturing to the feast displayed on the table between us, I asked, “How do you afford all this extravagance now that you’re on the outs with the King and no longer getting a ‘princely allowance?’”
“I have my own resources,” he said.
“Meaning you use your Sway and array of new glamours to rob the humans in the surrounding villages, I presume. You’re just like your father.”
Pharis didn’t laugh at that barb, just raised his brows and blew out a whistling breath. “You certainly know how to flatter a fellow.”
“Since you won’t give me any answers or allow anyone else here to speak to me, I have no choice but to assume the worst.”
He lifted his wine glass to me in a mock toast. “Assume away, my lady. Just finish your meal. You need to regain your strength.”
“I’m still not sure why you care,” I said.
As I’d had plenty of time for contemplation, I’d been puzzling over that mystery for days.
Whatever nefarious plans Pharis had, I was sure they were for his own benefit. But still, the net effect was that my life had been spared from the hangman’s noose.
And my “savior” seemed to be concerned for my health and comfort.
It made no sense based on his recent behavior and words.
Pharis gave me an enigmatic smile. “Let it suffice to say you amuse me… and so little does these days.”
“So this is all for your entertainment then?”
“Not exactly.”
What a frustrating non-answer. It reminded me of the old days with Pharis when he spoke in riddles and half-truths.
My fingers tapped noisily on the tabletop until I clamped them with my other hand to make them stop.
Being near him like this got my blood simmering and made me feel restless.
“Just how long do you mean to hold me here?” I demanded.
“You’re in no shape to go anywhere, my lady,” Pharis said. “Why don’t you concentrate on healing, and let me worry about what comes after that. I should think you’d be more grateful to be out of the King’s reach.”
The King. How I hated the man.
King Pontus had not only hunted me down and thrown me in the dungeon, he’d imprisoned Stellon there as well until such time as the “love spell” on him was broken—by my death.
The King had been sure my execution would free the Crown Prince to return to his senses.
What would happen to Stellon now that I was missing?
Had King Pontus seen me being carried away? Would he presume the dragon had killed me?
Had the dragon killed people?
I couldn’t remember the events of that day well, but it was very possible the collateral damage had included Stellon. I was almost afraid to ask, but I had to know.
“What happened in that arena?” I asked Pharis. “Other than a dragon crushing my bones.”
To my surprise, he winced. But the momentary tic was followed immediately by his usual unbothered expression.
“Screaming, stampeding, chaos… the usual scene when a dragon appears.”
“And in all the chaos, did you see what became of… Stellon?” I asked.
The calm visage was instantly replaced with a snarl of irritation.
“My brother is alive and well,” he said. “But I wouldn’t concern myself too much about him if I were you. He failed you back at Seaspire. He’ll forget about you soon enough.”
“That’s what you said before, and then I found out that he’d been searching for me everywhere, trying to find me so he could marry me.”
“How did that work out for you?” Pharis asked in a snarky tone.
Taking a sip from his wine glass, he said, “You and Stellon were never a good match. Besides, he told you himself—he needs to marry well to secure his role in the kingdom.”
“You mean your father is making him marry well,” I snapped.
Pharis gave a derisive snort.
“Stellon is a grown man—older than I am. And don’t fool yourself, sweetheart.
When it comes down to it, nothing is more important to my big brother than his duty to his people and the throne.
That’s why he spent the night before your scheduled execution weeping in the dungeon instead of doing something useful to prevent your death—like overthrowing our father. ”
Pharis’ tone dripped with disdain, and it made me angry. Stellon had told me how powerful their father was, that his Compelling glamour was invincible.
“Did you really expect him to attempt such a doomed feat?” I asked. “It would have been suicide.”
Pharis leaned back in his chair and pinned me with an unsettling turquoise glare.
“I did. I’m still alive.”
After a beat he added, “So are you, no thanks to the heroic heir to the Coral Throne.”
I had no argument for that, so I changed the subject.
“Speaking of that, I thought you wanted the throne for yourself,” I snapped.
That was what Pharis had indicated the night he’d taunted me and Stellon in the dungeon. It was the whole reason he’d betrayed his brother and cozied up to his father the King.
Pharis smiled slyly and spread his arms out to the sides, gesturing to the grandeur surrounding us.
“I have everything I need right here, in my own little kingdom. My brother can have that moldy old crown.”
“And what of your father?” I asked. “Is he not angry that you spoiled his public spectacle—the one you suggested? Is he not searching for you? If we’re at your castle, you won’t be hard to find.”
“Awww, I didn’t realize you cared, little Wyn.
” Pharis grinned. “Don’t worry, I have things covered.
And I doubt the King has figured out what happened yet.
He’s not that bright. If he ever does, I have amassed more than enough power to handle him.
Besides, there are rumors of dissent and unrest in the kingdom.
Talk of a challenge to the throne of Avrandar. ”
My jaw dropped. “Is that what all this is about? A coup attempt? You plan to overthrow your father?”
Pharis laughed. “I am happy to say, my father is no longer my concern. And I intend to leave the King to his own business.”
“Well you can do the same for me,” I said. “I intend to leave as soon as I’m well enough to walk on my own. Unless you plan to use your myriad powers to trap me here.”
His eyes narrowed, and his tone hardened.
“Are you in such a hurry to be hunted again? As there was no body found, I wouldn’t be surprised if the King is looking for you.
And Sorcha may be dead, but her Earthwife sisters are alive and well and quite fond of revenge.
I’m told they showed up in force for the execution, champing at the bit to watch you die.
They think you’re dead right now. If you leave these castle walls and go wandering about, that will change. ”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Will you also take chances with the lives of your family?” Pharis asked. “If you’re found, the witches could torture you or spell you to reveal your family’s location. I became rather fond of your father and sisters during our time together. I don’t want to see any harm befall them.”
The last time I’d seen my family, they were safely tucked away in the remote mountain village of Havendor, a place that had been hidden from the King’s awareness—until he’d used a tracker helped along by Sorcha and Stellon’s Exalting glamour to find me there.