26. CHAPTER 26
Sorin
When I arrived at Azhar’s quarters only to find them empty, I realized that I didn’t have time to spiral out of control. King Mavros was expecting me to entertain King Eldrin from Ravenscar, and appearances meant everything.
I had no option but to comply.
I had managed to push off talk of a wedding for another week.
With Enora now free from the dungeons and my poor attempt at a diversion forgotten, all eyes would be back on a royal wedding.
This masquerade ball had already been planned, but it would now serve to honor my betrothal to the princess with her presence here at court.
I secured the black mask over my face, though it did little to conceal my true identity. There was no question who it was striding into the hall, power rolling off me in waves, my midnight wings tucked at my back.
The dining room had been utterly transformed.
The long banquet tables had been replaced with circular marble tables, pushed to the outer corners of the room to allow for dancing beneath the grand, golden chandelier.
The marble tops were adorned with decadent tiers of chocolate cakes and exquisitely colored drinks.
The drapes had been replaced with crimson velvet cascading from the ceiling, white flowers twisting around them as if hanging from a vine.
The towering stone columns were wrapped with ivy, golden lights threaded through each strand, pulsing softly.
Queen Odessa had used her magic to transform the ceiling into a visage of the night sky, the ceiling above alive with constellations.
The half-moon cast a blue glow across the party.
Gossamer banners were draped from the rafters in sheer, romantic wisps.
Music drifted throughout the hall with no visible source—the sound of bells, harps, and violins low and humming.
It was elaborate beyond my wildest dreams. Queen Odessa had truly outdone herself.
Each guest wore a mask that curved around their eyes.
Some were more elaborate than others. While mine was a simple black filigree, others had chosen a more eccentric route.
I passed one Vireth with a mask of the god of death, Mordecai.
I saw another adorned with an elegant mask of butterflies, traced in gold and silver glitter.
Even more elaborate was the Vireth with golden antlers protruding from his.
All the fae in attendance were donning their greatest finery; the hum of voices and boisterous laughter already setting me on edge.
There was nothing I hated more than a party.
I immediately caught my father’s eye across the room and walked toward him.
He appeared…angry.
Emrys stood at his side, which in and of itself was never good.
“What is this I hear about the Myrosian spy being released earlier today?” King Mavros asked.
His hand was on Emrys’s shoulder, but his grip was tight, knuckles white. He was using him for support.
“Perhaps you should sit, Father.” I offered the chair behind him, but he merely shook his head.
“I will remain standing as long as I can. There are watchful eyes from all over the kingdom at court tonight. I will not appear weak before these vultures. You’d be advised not to undermine me.”
“I didn’t—” But one glance at Emrys and the words died on my tongue.
Father was in a ripe mood tonight.
“The girl?” he questioned me with a raised brow, irritation plain on his face.
“She is merely a historian. An apprentice to the librarian. She was sent from Myros, but merely to study. It was my mistake.” I gave Father a tight smile, praying to the nine gods that he wouldn’t see through my facade.
“It’s just as well.” He sighed, uncomfortably shifting his weight from one foot to another. “It’s time we focus on the true matter at hand: sealing the alliance with Ravenscar. I expect both of you to join the council meeting tomorrow morning to discuss the treaty.”
I nodded in assent. “And Valerian?”
He always managed to escape his civic duties. I supposed his false reputation of being good-for-nothing didn’t help.
“If Valerian chooses to join, so be it. I am tired of chasing that boy around the castle, wishing he would take his duties seriously like my eldest sons.” An expression of pride washed over his face as he gazed from Emrys to me.
“Anyone in particular I should be speaking with tonight?” I asked, grabbing a crystal flute filled with amber liquid off the silver tray of a waiter as they passed by.
Emrys raised his brow at me but said nothing. If I was going to get through this…I needed a drink.
“Besides Eldrin, the King of Ravenscar? I suppose you should become acquainted with Princess Morwenna. Ask her to dance. Though she does seem stiff and prim, if you ask me.” He nudged Emrys, who laughed out of duty.
“There are two acolytes sent from the Midnight Citadel. A representative here from the Floating Isles, as well as the commander from Castle Orwynn in Faedwyn.”
That piqued my interest. “Any word on the missing weapons shipment I was supposed to receive weeks past? I waited on the docks in Scaldrithor only for them to never arrive,” I said dryly.
King Mavros waved his hand. “Something about rough seas in the Faetide. Their ships aren’t built for those vicious waters. I am sure you will get to the bottom of it this week while she is here.”
“She?” I choked on my drink in surprise.
“Yes, she. A fine commander, if you ask me. Might be a good match for our Rensford, a potential for another alliance, even,” King Mavros replied.
“You know as well as we do that Faedwyn has resisted an alliance with any of its neighboring kingdoms. It’s a miracle we even got them to agree to weapons shipments if it weren’t for the egregious amount of coin we are willing to pay them,” Emrys reminded him.
Father gave Emrys a reassuring squeeze. “Perhaps it is my middle child who will finally change their mind.”
I could toast to that. Finally put that mouth of his to good use.
Emrys’s glare only further bolstered the grin that had spread across my face.
“Morwenna is looking beautiful tonight,” Emrys interjected, changing the subject. “You should ask your future bride to honor you with a dance.”
I scowled at him, thankful that my expression was mostly hidden behind my mask.
King Mavros’s eyes sparked as his gaze fell on me. “A fine idea.”
There would be no getting out of it then.
I scanned the ballroom for Princess Morwenna and found her standing by one of the drink tables with her father.
Her hair fell in beautiful silken threads down her back, her onyx gown accentuating her pale skin.
She might be beautiful, but she was the absolute farthest thing from my mind at the moment.
How could I even think about taking her hand in marriage to secure the alliance when mere hours ago Enora revealed to me that Aveline was my fated?
I already knew what my father would say.
That not only was my mate being human a sign of weakness, but that no matter the circumstances I could never take her as my queen. She offered nothing to our kingdom. No alliance, no power, no coin.
He would tell me to marry Princess Morwenna and keep Aveline as a consort.
It was exactly what he had done with my mother, after all.
Without another word, I placed my drink down on the table behind my father and stalked across the dance floor toward Morwenna. King Eldrin caught my eye over her shoulder, and he smiled deeply. I bowed at the waist, hand on my sternum, before meeting his gaze.
“It would be my honor, King Eldrin, if I could ask your daughter to grace me with a dance.”
His eyes sparkled with mirth. “Of course!”
Morwenna turned, the half-moon on her forehead from Nytherion stark against her pale skin.
Her amethyst eyes were pinned on me as I took her hand, leading her to the center of the dance floor.
All eyes were drawn to us as the violins slowed their rhythm, the song turning deliberate and intimate.
I held her hand in mine, the other pressing to her waist as I turned us.
Her knowing eyes narrowed on me, the eerie glow of her irises sending a shiver down my spine.
“Forgive me for being candid, Prince Sorin. But I know you don’t want to marry me.”
I choked on my own spit, doing my best to compose myself before I devolved into a full-blown coughing attack. “Pardon?”
Morwenna’s gaze was scrutinizing, her pupils dilated. “The alliance. I can see that it means more to you than anything else. That if you had your choice, you would rather not tie yourself to me. I don’t blame you, of course.”
“No?” I cleared my throat once more, my voice hoarse.
Morwenna shook her head. “I am not too fond of the idea, either.”
“No?” I questioned again, voice deepening.
“You think I want to marry myself off to someone I don’t know? To a prince of Blackwater, with a reputation that precedes him, no less?”
I frowned. “Perhaps you are thinking of my brother, Valerian...”
“No. I am thinking of you, Sorin Blackwater. Cursed prince of Gothryn. Heir to the throne.”
My gaze wandered the ballroom, but it snapped back at her words.
How many godsforsaken people knew about this curse?
Morwenna slid her hand out of mine, pointing to the sigil that marked her forehead. “I am blessed by the goddess, Nytherion, remember? I have the sight.”
I cursed how many Vireth had the sight in this godsdamned kingdom. I let out a frustrated exhale, shaking my head back and forth.
“The curse is of no concern to you, Princess Morwenna. I assure you.”
Her violet-painted lips curved into a smile. “Oh, I know.”
Did she know about Aveline? I tried my best not to think of her while with another; something about that felt dishonest. But my thoughts kept returning to that maddening human over and over again.
The wound in my side pulsed with pain, and my hand slid from Morwenna’s waist to press against it as I winced, surprised.
What in the seven hells? It had started healing…
“Are you all right?” she asked, though her affect was deadpan and I doubted her concern was genuine.