Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
A server placed a platter of aromatic savories before them—spiced dates, wild mushrooms stuffed with herbs, and dabs of rare cheeses on tiny rounds of flatbread. A scatter of roasted hazelnuts nestled with a garnish of wild berries. The dish was as much artwork as food, an opening prelude for the feast to come, but Lila’s appetite was long gone. It had perished the moment Ademar spilled the truth that afternoon.
They were watching her—her mother, Ademar, and her mother’s ghastly servants. Ever since that moment in the guest chambers, one of them had kept her in their sight. There would be no way to avoid dinner conversation with Lord Farras. She could endure that much, but no more. The moment the dancing started, she’d be gone. From an early age, she’d learned how to use a crowd to escape.
She scanned the room, finding Rafe in the throng. He was easy to spot, his dark hair and powerful build so different from the rest. He was still with the fae servant, carrying hot water from table to table so that each guest was attended to before their dinner was served. Her group would be done eating by the time the two reached the back of the room. Only when the last table was served would the servants have a chance to sample the feast, providing there was any left.
She had a sudden, irrational vision of him beside her, tasting everything from her plate. She wouldn’t mind, as long as she could touch him again. She would feed him morsels of cheese and bread, letting her fingertips linger on his soft lips. Heat prickled under her skin, rising up her throat and into her cheeks.
“Are you well, my dear?”
Farras’s voice jerked her from her daydream. He looked down at her with mild curiosity in his dark gray eyes. Their color was unusually deep for a fae, more storm cloud than silver.
“A little overwhelmed, to be truthful.” That at least was no lie.
“Does the food not tempt you?”
“I am saving myself,” she said, hoping it sounded demure. “There are a great many courses.”
“Excess is expected on such occasions.”
“Is expectation the same as desire?”
He leaned closer, and she could smell his scent. It was rich but sharp, like spicy resin. She longed to pull away, but he had an arm over the back of her chair, effectively closing her in. She felt surrounded by the force of his presence, as if he radiated an electric charge. Some fae bled power like that, but most had the courtesy to keep their magic to themselves.
“Faery feasts are notorious for a reason,” he said with the hint of an indulgent smile. “In the old days, they could last for weeks. Legend had it that if a mortal ate at our table, they would be our slave for a hundred years. But I think that was just an excuse to stay for dessert.”
She laughed, as was her role as witless female. “Do you have a favorite dessert, my lord?”
“I do not care for sweets,” he replied. “At least not the type served on a plate.”
“I enjoy tiramisu.”
He lifted a brow. “Is that a human food? ”
“It is. A delightful one.”
“And where did you learn of this marvel?”
“There is an enormous variety of human restaurants available in the city.”
He sat back in his seat, releasing her from the shadow of his magic. She rubbed her arms, as if it had left a residue, then stopped when she realized he was watching. Behind his shoulder, her mother was also studying her every move—no doubt wishing Lila was a better actress.
“Have you tried many of these human cuisines?” he asked.
“Quite a few.”
His manner softened, as if he let his public persona slip. “I admire your inquisitive spirit. You have chosen to experience the human world, to learn rather than run from it. That is courageous.”
Lila raised a brow. “Not many would say that.”
He met her gaze. “They do not look beyond their own horizon. You and I see possibilities.”
In that moment, she might have liked him if it hadn’t been for the pure, cold calculation in his eyes. He was stroking her vanity to see where it got him. Into a pit of venomous serpents, if I can arrange it.
“Then explain your vision to me, my lord,” Lila said as a cupbearer filled her goblet with wine. “I am eager to learn it from your own lips.”
From the corner of her eye, Lila caught Galeeta’s sudden alertness. She was listening to every word.
Farras lifted his goblet and waited for Lila to do the same. They touched the jeweled rims and sipped the straw-colored wine. Lila’s senses filled with the taste, tangy and mellow with dew-kissed dawns and the scent of rich earth. She set the heavy cup down, already half-drunk on visions of the harvest.
The lord gave the wine an appreciative nod before he set his goblet aside as well. “My concern is always with the safety and security of our people. There have been threats to the tradition and sanctity of the Crown, and my vision, as you say, is to ensure the sacred power of the Forest King is in the right hands. To this end, I travel to join Elroth. As you know, he is retreating to the royal lands in Gilden Wood. In due course, your family will join me.”
“And we are delighted to do so,” Galeeta broke in. “Our family interests have long been bound by love and war.”
“Indeed,” Farras replied, a barb beneath his civil tone. He turned to regard Galeeta without quite taking his eyes off Lila. “No doubt that is why you seated your lovely daughter at my side.”
Galeeta smiled, though it did not reach her eyes. “She was once your betrothed.”
He put his hand over Lila’s, casually possessive. “So I recall. I also recall that betrothal was called off by your husband.”
Lila’s skin grew suddenly clammy. She wanted to run, hard and desperately, into the night air. She tried to slip her hand from beneath Farras’s. Without a flicker of emotion, he tightened his grip.
Servants came, removing the first platters and replacing them with towers of bite sized pastries filled with a spiced mix of wild greens. Gold leaf decorated the shells.
“My lord requires your influence with the king,” Galeeta replied. “No doubt he would prove more willing once he is free.”
Lila jerked her hand away, unable to stand his touch a moment longer. Farras graced her with a sidelong look of amusement.
“Rest easy,” he murmured. “You shall have your chance to speak.”
“Indeed, I shall,” she said stiffly.
“Your father was working against the king,” Farras said, now serious. “He was arrested for a reason. He is, or was, in Lord Teegar’s employ. ”
“No!” Lila protested, unable to stop herself. “He isn’t like that.”
The father she knew was allergic to anything so labor-intensive as treason. But with sudden clarity, she understood Farras had no intention of freeing him. He wasn’t useful enough to make the cost worthwhile. Farras seemed to read her thoughts, for he gave a slow nod.
“Lord Teegar is in our dungeons,” her mother said, breaking through the heavy silence. “My son captured him and one of his men.”
Farras looked from Galeeta to Ademar with the first real sign of interest. Lila exhaled. At last, her family had something Farras wanted—that wasn’t her.
“So I understand. I will take custody of Teegar,” Farras said, throwing Galeeta a look that said he wasn’t going to bargain. “Then I will take him to the king. The royal questioners will uncover the truth, and our loyalty will be proven beyond question.”
“That sounds deceptively simple,” Lila murmured to herself. Had Teegar actually committed any crimes, or was he just another game piece?
Despite her soft tone, Farras still heard her. One corner of his mouth turned up. “Why dwell on the unpleasant details?”
“Soundly reasoned, my lord,” she replied. “Deniability is useful.”
He chuckled. “You are more your mother’s daughter than you know.”
Lila forced a smile, even though cold prickles skittered down her spine.
“No, my lord,” she said quietly. “I am not my mother. I will not underestimate you.”
For the first time, genuine interest flickered in his eyes. “You are a surprising young lady.”
That smile did nothing to ease the cold lump in her stomach. Farras was as much a predator as any wolf. She bowed her head, pretending to be overawed by his approval.
“There is one thing I do not understand,” she said meekly.
“What is that?”
“What did Lord Teegar do to earn your wrath?”
He sat back, eyes narrowing. “Do you not know?”
“No.”
Farras tilted his head back, clearly considering how to answer as he studied the softly glowing lights dotting the darkened room. “It is one thing to be ambitious. There are plenty who would take the throne if they could through legitimate means.”
“And Lord Teegar? He seems anxious to uphold authority. He is a captain of the King’s Guard, after all.”
“So he is. If only he were content with that.”
“Meaning what?” Lila laughed softly. “Your statement only communicates innuendo, my lord.”
“And so it must remain,” he replied, leaning forward to clasp her hand and raise it to his lips. “This is hardly dinner conversation.”
Farras’s lips were soft but strangely cool, as if his blood ran with ice. On his other side, Galeeta watched them with calculating eyes. Clearly, it looked to the world as if she and Farras were happily flirting.
Lila cast about for a civil reply. Farras’s arguments were nothing but cobwebs and poison. No doubt Teegar had stood in Farras’s way once too often. Now he paid the price and somehow her family had become tangled in that rivalry—among other things. How many webs was Farras weaving, and how many had her mother stumbled into?
She realized she had been holding his gaze far longer than she’d meant to. He rose from his seat, still holding her hand. With a light tug, he bade her to rise.
“Come,” he said, loud enough for his voice to carry. “I have eaten enough for the moment. Let there be dancing before more food arrives.”
It was customary to break between courses during a long feast. The guests were free to gossip or go outside for fresh air. Usually, the host offered entertainment, games, or—as now—dance. Used to their master’s whims, the musicians immediately struck up a stately tune. It began on a reed flute, high and breathy, and was joined by the bell-like sound of a brass-strung harp. The heartbeat of drums followed.
As the noble of highest rank, Farras began to dance first, leading Lila to the broad expanse between the rows of tables. Other couples followed, weaving an intricate pattern of steps as they moved. In one count of beats, the dancers swayed in a circle, capes and gowns glittering in the errant light. In the next, they were in squares, changing partners and back again. Lila spun with Farras, their palms pressed together and bodies almost touching. Then they pushed apart, circling on feet so light they barely made a sound.
Lila loved to dance, and Farras was an accomplished partner. She flowed into the music, feeling the sound of the fae instruments like the current of a stream against her limbs. She spun in place, the marvelous, gauzy silk of her gown floating in a glittering cloud. The whole room was watching her, watching Farras admire her. And he did—with parted lips and a rising flush to his lean cheeks.
She’d forgotten, living and working in the crowded city, what such intense regard was like among her kind. Pride glowed in her blood like strong wine, urging her to forget the danger that lurked just beyond the dance’s last bow.
But she quickly sobered as the final measures came on a trill of the flute. Farras drew near, breathing hard and his pupils dark with an expression she could not name. In another male, she’d call it desire. In him, there was something else. Anger? Did he resent that she’d stirred his emotions, even for the few minutes of the dance?
He took her arm, fingers circling like a vice just above her elbow. But before he could speak, one of his men approached, a sealed message in one hand. Farras’s grip dropped as he turned away, everything but the message forgotten as he broke the wax seal.
Grateful though she was, his swift change of focus startled Lila. Whatever the letter held, she doubted it would help her. Swift and silent, she faded into the crowd of dancers still milling about the floor, aiming for the side of the hall farthest from her table. From there, she slid through a servant’s entrance behind one of the garlanded columns.
Cool night air bathed her face the moment she stepped outside. She closed the door behind her, leaning against it as if she could contain the insanity inside. A sudden, frustrated weariness gripped her, but she forced herself to straighten her spine as she saw movement at the edge of the woods.
She only had one chance to change fate, and this was it.