CHAPTER 17
THE A’KORI PALACE
Present Day
For all the good the herb does me, I still sleep like hisht.
I’m glad I no longer have my daggers when someone begins pounding on my door, drawing me from the last of what little restless sleep I managed to obtain.
I would have thrown the blade hard enough to be sure the tip punched through to the other side of the door. A fair declaration of my annoyance.
“Coming!” I yell, rolling out of bed, wrapping the silk sheet around my body and leaving the duvet to fall onto the floor.
I hadn’t packed anything to sleep in and there wasn’t anything hanging in the large closet connected to the washroom when I checked last night.
Another bang sounds, and I glare through squinted eyes, still tender in the light of the morning sun.
Awri did say she wanted to start early but I wasn’t expecting a predawn awakening.
I glance out the window as I swing open the heavy door and—all right, I might be exaggerating, it isn’t that early.
Normally I would have been out of bed an hour ago.
A plump woman with a tidy brown bun and mousy nose backs into my room, dragging a large trunk behind her.
“Good morning, lady. I am Tiana. I’ve been sent with your things and asked to attend you.”
I’m about to protest my need for her services when she disappears into the washroom and I’m struck silent by a series of fluttering whispers gliding past my ears. My head whips toward the bed, where I find two angry sprites, hiding half-heartedly behind a bedpost.
I’ve never considered what one of the sprites might do if she were offended, but I have no intention of finding out.
Tiana flips the lever above the bath, the water splashing as the tub begins to fill.
The beautiful golden hues of the sprite’s skin begin to rapidly darken as they glower in unison toward the woman.
Keeping my eyes on them, I yell, “Thank you, Tiana. That is very kind of you, but I won’t need your assistance.”
The woman ambles into the main room, and I place my body between hers and the seething sisters, entirely unsure if I’m protecting them from her or the other way around.
“But I was told—”
“Never mind what you were told,” I say, grasping her hand and pulling her to the door. “I’ll make sure everyone is aware of your efforts and that the decision was mine.”
“But—”
“Thank you.” I shuffle her into the hall with a hand on the small of her back, shut the door, and pin my ear to it until I hear her leave, grumbling under her breath.
Tig’s color is a little closer to normal by the time I turn back, but her eyes are glued to the door. I think she may be debating the logistics of going after the poor woman.
“She was just doing her job,” I assure her.
Tig puffs out an annoyed breath and makes for the tub. I exhale a deep breath of my own, thanking the stars that the sprite seems to have given up on whatever plans she had for the woman. I hope.
Eon skips after her sister without a care in the world and the sprites make up my bath like they usually do.
Unlike every other day, however, a golden tray of salts and flowers, perfumed oils, and bubbling soaps sits by the sink.
Tig picks an oil, the scent of which I can’t quite place.
It smells of the woods in the spring when the flowers are beginning to bloom and the cottonwoods shed their seed.
Eon climbs onto the marble counter, and I smile as I watch her uncork and sniff every concoction within reach, all but one issuing a sigh of pleasure from the fea. The last she dramatically chokes on, clutching her throat as she holds the bottle as far away from her tiny nose as she can manage.
The rest of the morning is much like every other. Almost. Eon picks an A’kori gown in a greyish blue that makes my eyes brighter against the pale hue of my skin. When she doesn’t proffer the usual matching set of pants, I walk into the large closet to find them.
While Felias hadn’t approved of me constantly wearing them, I never expected him to go so far as to remove them from my wardrobe entirely.
My cheeks heat when I look myself over in the mirror, one part embarrassment, two parts rage.
The wide cut of the top exposing my shoulders and the swell of my breasts is bad enough, but the floor to hip slit on either side of the gown is wildly indecent.
Since the night of Felias’s party I’ve understood why the feyn favor this fashion.
They have no need to hide behind clothing.
It only detracts from their natural beauty.
But I am not feyn, and each way the cut of the gown is designed to embellish their loveliness, only serves to expose every one of my flaws.
Thankfully, Tig leaves my hair down and I pull a few loose spirals over my shoulders in an effort to obtain some semblance of modesty.
I debate writing Felias and demanding he send the rest of my things but if he doesn’t want me to have them what can I do?
I can hate and understand his motives simultaneously.
Assassination by means of seduction has always been on the table even if only as a last resort.
It is, after all, the way of most Fea Dien.
I pause when my hand lands on the lever of my bedroom door, looking back toward the sisters.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I say.
It doesn’t scratch the surface of the relief I feel in their presence, but they look pleased by the sentiment, and I crack a smile before walking into the hall.
“Are you always this cheerful in the mornings?” The general’s deep voice echoes down the corridor.
He stands across the hall, his shoulder leaning against the stone. The smile falls from my face when I see him, and he frowns, his eyes falling to my mouth.
“Where is Awri?” I ask.
“Something came up,” he says, “and she has been delayed.”
He saunters toward me, his bruise looking markedly better. I was taught that feyn heal much quicker than humans but never witnessed it myself.
“I came to offer you a tour of the palace until Awri can make herself available,” he says.
“All right.”
I’m sure I can decline, and he won’t force it. But the rejection won’t do me any favors, if I plan on staying in whatever good graces I’ve somehow fallen into.
He gestures down the hall, and I step in beside him, his heavy boots clipping loudly upon the marble. Blood warms my cheeks when his eyes follow the length of my leg from my hip to the floor.
“You aren’t wearing pants,” he says.
“How observant,” I quip.
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye and asks, “Why?”
“Do I need a reason? I was told this is entirely appropriate.” It’s impossible to keep the flood of color from my cheeks when I reply, but I breathe easier when his eyes return to my face. The feeling doesn’t last.
“It is,” he assures me, “It’s just that, aside from the day we first met, I’ve never seen you without them.”
I hum thoughtfully, scrunching my face as if I am trying to recall a memory from long ago.
“Oh yes, I remember. That was the day you tried to have me removed from my uncle’s home.”
“Don’t change the subject.” He glares.
I look down at my legs when I say, “I thought I would try something new.”
Of course, it’s a lie, but I hope it’s enough to encourage him to leave it alone. His stride falters and he turns to face me.
“Why are you always so difficult?” he growls, his sneer falling away as quickly as it came when realization sets in, and he voices the revelation aloud. “Your uncle didn’t send any, did he?” I don’t have time to answer before he barks a laugh. “Of course he didn’t.”
He seems truly pleased with himself as he starts down the hallway once more, shaking his head and looking far too amused, as if he unearthed some great mystery lost to the ages.
I glare at the back of his head. “What do you mean, ‘Of course, he didn’t?’”
“Are you being intentionally ignorant?” he puffs out, “Or do you truly not know that your uncle has designs on you for the king? For his bed.”
I almost trip over myself when his words land a blow on a soft and unfortified piece of my deeper self that I’m entirely unfamiliar with. I laugh to deflect, to make myself feel better, to do anything but answer the question.
Of course, he laughed. I laughed the first time Leanna told me I would seduce their king but hearing it from the male beside me is like a dull dagger twisting in my gut.
“Don’t worry, General,” I say snidely, “I’m well aware I fall far below the standard for even the lowest of the feyn. I have no intention of degrading myself in pursuit of your sovereign.”
He has the nerve to look angry at me for speaking the truth.
I likely spoiled all the fun he wanted to have at my expense, mocking me based on his assumptions and the unfortunate fact that I was born mortal and therefore somehow less.
He opens his mouth to argue and is blessedly interrupted when Awri bursts into view from around a corner at the end of the hall.
She’s a cascade of teal silk as she runs toward us, and I’ve never been happier to see her or more envious of a pair of pants.
I decide it’s rude to ask if she’ll loan me a pair.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she says breathlessly, leaning in to peck my cheek. “Did you enjoy your tour?”
The general must have waited outside my chambers for quite some time if she thinks we’ve had enough time to make it farther than the hall.
“I did.” I smile to hide the lie and pin the general with a stare. “I was just telling the general that I know that I am entirely undeserving of the privilege of being here.”
“I wouldn’t have invited you if I felt that way,” she reassures me with a curious tilt of her head.