Chapter Eight #3
The duke’s cool facade breaks with a surprised smile, and Valenar suppresses another sputter into his wine goblet.
It’s a small victory that I can’t afford to lose.
“Come,” I say to Valenar, turning away from the nobles. “I would like to be introduced to those who represent Emerald’s virtue, not only its pride.”
For a brief, harrowing moment, I’m walking alone away from the gathered group, convinced that Valenar will leave me to drown on my own. Luckily, his long legs allow him to catch up to me in a handful of strides, and the only thing he says over my shoulder is, “Well done.”
Somewhere in the crowd, there’s a hoot and a bark of laughter that makes Valenar’s feline ears turn toward the sides.
“Val-en-ar Qal E-dir,” a smiling demoness says, enunciating each syllable like its own word before breaking into a hearty laugh that’s contagious, even if I don’t know what’s so amusing.
She pushes through the gathered socializing groups and dancers, shoving other demons aside rather than going around them.
Unlike most other guests at the ball, this demoness is actually dressed for the frigid weather outside. There’s no flimsy layers or delicate silk here, but a thick wool overdress made of such a high quality there’s no doubting it belongs at this gathering as much as any lace.
“Never woulda expected to see you here of all places—not without cuffs at least!” the demoness guffaws, clapping Valenar on the shoulder so hard his spine bows forward. His smile is tighter than hers, but doesn’t seem as forced as with the duchess.
“Countess—” Valenar starts, gesturing toward me.
“Oh, don’t start with that. Where’s your partner in crime?” the countess asks, perching up on her toes to look around Valenar, her dark brows slowly furrowing as her search comes up empty.
“The king—” Valenar is careful to emphasize the word, “—is tending to important matters of state and has asked that I introduce his bride. Countess Fenrelle—”
“For Lorith’s sake,” Countess Fenrelle laughs, clapping him on the back again.
“Is that how it’s gonna be? Too big for your armor now?
All titles and pomp?” She scoffs, shaking her head with mock disappointment while still smiling a pointed grin as she turns to me, lowering her voice like we’re co-conspirators.
“That’s my proper title, but no one who knows me would call me anything other than Maive. Especially not someone who’s asked me to pull ticks off of his—”
Valenar’s tail flicks, smacking the back of Maive’s calf while she laughs again and reaches for my hand.
“It’s easy to get under his skin,” she says, hooking a thumb over her shoulder toward Valenar. “Xan, though? Nerves of granite. Those two used to run bounties while on patrol. Don’t think I ever saw him fazed.”
“And that is why he will make such a wonderful king for Emerald,” Valenar says, doing his best to steer the conversation while this charging bull of a woman barrels past each attempt.
“You must be something special to have caught his attention,” she says, squeezing my hand in hers. Something shifts in her eyes, mirth turning to curiosity, questions I don’t think I should answer floating just beneath the surface.
Her grip on my hand tightens as I look down from her gaze. “The herdmasters welcome the king’s bloodsworn bride, and I think I speak for us all when I say it’s been a long winter.”
My heart stops for just a moment, mind immediately going to my contract with the Dealmaker and my brother suspended in time in that horrible prison cell. I force back the taste of acid at the back of my throat, instead clasping Maive’s hand with both of mine.
“Winter cannot last forever,” I reassure her with a gentle smile. “Spring will return before you know it.”
Something in the countess’s posture shifts, like a weight has lifted. “I do hope you’re right. It’s been too long since I got elbow-deep in dirt.”
I’m not sure how long we stay talking there, long enough for Valenar to grow impatient, trying to urge me along to meet more people, each time earning more teasing from Maive.
I like her; she’s loud and has soil permanently under her claws.
She understands the social cues, but doesn’t care to abide by them, and talking to her about the different qualities of wool her herds produce is the first time since leaving my world that I’ve felt like I might not be drowning the whole time I’m here.
Maybe I’ll be able to carve out a place for myself where I can be useful until it’s time to return home.
I’m doing my best to absorb every detail about the felting process Maive is explaining—it’s new to me and is responsible for her exquisite dress—so I don’t notice how the ballroom has gone eerily quiet until I laugh a little too loud at one of Maive’s jokes.
She notices it, too, looking back to see the commotion.
“Lorith save me,” she mutters under her breath.
“It’s been great getting to talk to you.
Don’t let this one make you think he’s scary,” she says with a gesture toward Val, her energy more harried, glancing back again before giving us both an apologetic look. “I’ll get myself in trouble if I—”
“Go on,” Valenar says, shooing her with a wave of his hand, a smirk quirking the corner of his mouth.
“What did she mean by…” Whatever the rest of that thought was, it’s gone now.
The crowd parts…I think. Maybe the crowd disappears.
Who knows. There’s only one person—one demon—I can see, and I can’t look away.
I can’t really see him, either. It’s like looking into the sun, too present to ignore, but too powerful to behold.
He moves closer, and the air grows warmer, my gown feels stifling, and I have the sudden urge to rip it off.
To bare myself in front of this god and rub myself against him like a cat in heat. To—
“Enough,” Valenar says, snapping me out of it.
All at once, it feels like a veil is lifted, the chill of the ballroom returns, and I wrap my arms around myself, desperately seeking more cover.
I don’t know what just happened to me, but I don’t like it.
And I don’t like the demon who approaches now; he’s too handsome.
Too perfect, and the way his crimson eyes travel up and down my body makes my skin prickle the same way it did when I was before the Judge bargaining for my brother’s freedom.
I have no doubt that this demon is dangerous, the hard part is keeping my feet rooted in place while every instinct tells me to run from this predator.
“Always ruining my fun,” the newcomer says, voice smooth as silk and sweet as honeyed wine.
“Get your fun from the Shadow King, Castorian. You won’t find what you’re after in Emerald,” Valenar says, one hand resting by his hip, his entire body poised like he’s ready to strike.
“What makes you so sure I haven’t already found it?” Castorian says, circling us with a smile that feels like a warning. “You of all people should know how irresistible the scent of fresh prey is.”
My heart beats faster, cold sweat prickling at my hairline.
I’m safe. Nothing’s going to happen here in front of everyone.
…Right?
How many would-be royals met their end at functions just like this one? I know nothing of the politics of this place, nothing of the customs or conflicts. I have only the word of a Dealmaker who’s shown himself to leave out important details.
Without thinking, I take a step back, positioning Valenar between myself and danger.
“Watch your words,” Valenar says, once again saying so much more that I don’t understand.
Castorian grins wider, leaning in close enough that I can smell the overpowering musk of him.
“You wouldn’t let a little warning stand in your way, would you?
” he asks, dangerous eyes darting toward me again, making my spine tingle with the need to flee.
“You’d track them through all thirteen reaches if needed.
You’d stop at nothing. And you know how I know?
” he taunts while Valenar grows more and more tense with every heartbeat.
“Because you’re. Just. Like. Me,” Castorian says, punctuating each word by jabbing his finger into Val’s chest. “And some hungers don’t ever fade. Isn’t that right?”
“Leave now or the king’s guard will assist you in doing so,” Valenar says through clenched teeth, his ears flat and tail twitching.
Unsurprisingly, Castorian takes the escort out, grinning, not saying a word, but still drawing the attention of everyone present.
“What did he mean by that?” I ask, watching the enormous doors close again, viewing Valenar with a new wariness.
“Nothing worth repeating,” Val says, his jaw still tight.
“I think you’ve been thoroughly Presented, don’t you?
” All at once, there’s been a shift from the king’s loyal left-hand man, insistent on doing everything by the books, to a caged mountain cat eager to escape up the nearest tree or rock face he can find.
Not trusting myself to answer for fear I’ll change his mind, I just nod eagerly.
“Right. I’ll have Morwen show you to your quarters,” he says, leading the way across the ballroom.
Before we make our escape, we’re stopped by an obstacle in our tracks.
It looks like a mossy hill come to life, bone charms clattering from horns that look more like deadwood.
I’m not sure exactly what I’m looking at, but when the hill lifts a gnarled branch the size of my leg and waves it around, I’m not too inclined to try to push past.
“Seed from another world,” the sound is like a toad found its voice, and if this had happened at the beginning of the night, I might have been startled into flinching, but at this point, I’ve seen too many impossible things for yet another to strike me as anything other than something preventing me from getting to bed and forgetting this whole terrible day.
“Your roots are young, but tend them well and the Wilds will favor you above all others.”
“I…’m sorry?” I ask wearily, catching myself before repeating the ‘begging’ mistake.
“Not yet, but you will be.” The top of the hill tilts to one side, moss and leaves moving enough to reveal a yellow grin in the shadows.
“Your wisdom is cherished, as always, Archdruid,” Val says without a hint of sincerity.
“May the Briarspire’s thorns pierce those who’d disregard it.
” His even tone seems to be satisfactory for the mossy hill because it makes no move to stop us as Valenar steers me away from the ballroom, past whispers of human bride, cursed blood, and worst of all: bound to be rejected.