Chapter 38
Sage
I opened my eyes to find myself lying on the floor beside Sir West like I always did.
Every damn night. Except this night my stomach was tight with nerves, and I’d seriously prayed while lying in my bed in the Black Tower that tonight could be the night Quill’s meditation technique would keep me from manifesting in the Garden.
For a moment I just lay there, hating that I was back. I hadn’t really expected it to help in only a few days — that and it wasn’t supposed to help me with manifesting, it was supposed to help keep me sane from my magic. I’d just really hoped it would.
Especially tonight.
Because tonight was the High Priestess’s ball.
The ball I’d been dreading since Her Brilliance had first announced it. The ball where I’d have to stand in a crowded room full of strangers — possibly dangerous strangers — with everyone staring at me, unable to hide.
But I couldn’t refuse the most powerful woman in the fae realm.
Really, I didn’t have the power to refuse anyone. I never had.
With a sigh, I pushed myself to a seated position and West, who’d been glaring down at me the entire time, offered me his hand.
His grip was firm and brief, letting me go the moment I was steady.
Which was fine. I didn’t really want to hold hands with the man in the first place, even if he seemed ever-so-slightly softer in the last few days while I’d been suffering through my personal audiences with the High Priestess’s handpicked suitors.
And I was probably just imagining that because the soul link ensured I couldn’t escape him and it was impossible to escape.
I wrenched my gaze away from him and swept it over the room.
Lord Rider stood by the hearth, firelight catching on the silver streak in his black hair. His jaw was locked so tight I could see the muscle jumping beneath his skin, and fur rippled along the backs of his hands. He looked like he was bracing for a fight, not a party.
Talon was sprawled on the couch, looking too relaxed. But there was a subtle tension about him, a stillness, hinting that he wasn’t as carefree as his posture suggested.
Beside him, pressed shoulder to shoulder as if he’d been leaning against Talon a moment ago, sat Lord Quill. His gaze found mine and his expression softened, making my chest ache with a longing I didn’t want to examine.
I couldn’t afford feelings tonight. I needed to be ready to face all of the fae court, and I couldn’t let myself be distracted by my confused, unwanted emotions about anything.
All three of them were dressed in finer clothes than they usually wore in the Garden. Rider in a fine black and silver doublet with only a single long dagger at his hip instead of his usual array of weapons, and Quill was in a finer green and gold doublet.
Talon was the most changed. He wore a two-toned silver doublet, instead of his usual gold.
The doublet had a detailed silver embroidered vine swirling down the front and intricate silver clasps.
He also had more braids in his long silver hair than usual, and his gold earring — the one that was adorned with tiny pearls, capped the tip of his delicately pointed ear, and looped through three holes pierced down the side — had been replaced with a silver version adorned with larger pearls.
They all looked like they were attending a fancy event, even if their expressions implied they weren’t going to enjoy it.
Across from Quill and Talon, sitting in one of the highbacked chairs, was Zinnia. She wasn’t dressed to attend a ball, wearing her usual blue healer’s robes, and I frowned in confusion as she stood and offered me a warm smile.
“I’m here to help you prepare,” she said. “Quill thought it might be a nice treat.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
I didn’t know what else to say to that. I didn’t want to prepare, but I was grateful Lord Quill had thought to get me help. I had no idea what I was supposed to wear or how I was supposed to style my hair.
Even if we’d been in the human realm, I wouldn’t have known. My mother had passed before I was old enough to talk to her about such things.
After that, Edred had treated me like a servant so fancy clothes and fancy hairstyles were just a fantasy… not that I’d actually fantasized much about that. No, I’d been more interested in forbidden swordplay and becoming a Sayorian Swordmaiden.
“Come.” She gestured toward the large fancy bedroom that I’d claimed as mine. “We’ve got work to do.”
“Right.”
I followed her, glancing back at the men as I crossed the room.
Rider’s silver gaze tracked my movement, Quill’s expression was still soft, and Talon watched me without any expression at all, his stillness too deliberate to be natural.
None of them looked away, and I couldn’t tell if that made me feel safer or more exposed.
Safer.
It had to be safer. They didn’t know me, didn’t care for me, just wanted to protect me for some reason.
And really, I had nothing to worry about. I was just putting on a gown and going to a party. People did this all the time. Normal people. People who weren’t terrified of crowded rooms and powerful High Priestesses and attackers who were still out there somewhere.
I could be that. I could pretend I was a normal girl in a normal situation.
If my parents hadn’t died and if Edred hadn’t become my stepfather, I would have gone to balls. I’d been a noblewoman before I’d given everything up to save Sawyer. What I was doing right now, should have been my life.
Zinnia moved to the wardrobe and opened its intricately carved doors. The gowns Lord Quill had arranged for me still hung inside, silks and gauze and lace in every color imaginable, more beautiful than anything I’d ever owned or even touched before my life had become this strange, impossible thing.
My thoughts jumped immediately to the question that had been nagging me since I’d first seen these dresses. What color should I wear?
In the human realm, wearing a specific color could signal allegiance or romantic interest. I’d been sticking to red, my manifestation color, since they’d arrived because it seemed like the safest choice and everyone had already seen me wearing it.
But there was only one red dress and compared to some of the other dresses, it wasn’t particularly fancy. Would it be good enough for the ball? Or would the High Priestess be insulted that I was wearing the same thing I always wore?
“So,” I said slowly, “in the human realm wearing colors to match your escorts or to match someone of a higher rank than you symbolizes an association, be it political or… romantic.”
“Ah,” Zinnia replied with a soft smile. “And you’ve been afraid to wear anything other than red for fear of someone getting the wrong idea?”
“How—?” I pressed my lips closed. Without a doubt everyone in the Garden was talking about me and everyone knew what I’d been wearing.
“Color doesn’t carry any meaning in the fae realm. You can wear that emerald dress tonight and no one would assume you’ve chosen Quill.” She chuckled softly. “If you spend all night dancing with him then that’s a different story.”
She gestured for me to follow her into the bathing room and then sit at a large vanity almost taking up one whole wall near the window.
I sat, and she began working on my hair, her fingers gentle as she gathered the strands.
“Is there anything else you’ve been worrying about?”
How I’d had sex with Talon, how I felt an attraction to Lord Quill and even Lord Rider, and how I ached for Ash.
But that wasn’t what she was talking about, and I couldn’t act on my feelings so there was no point in bringing them up.
“I know you’re concerned about tonight,” Zinnia said, her fingers twisting my hair into something elegant, “but you don’t have to dance with anyone you don’t want to.
You can say no. To anyone.” She twisted a braid into an artful curl and secured it with a pin.
“You can walk away from any conversation that makes you uncomfortable. That’s your right.
” She caught my gaze in the mirror. “I know things are different in the human realm, especially for you, but these men should be nervous about approaching you. Not the other way around. You’re the one with the power tonight. You’re the one who gets to choose.”
“Of course,” I murmured.
I wanted to believe her. Father, I wanted to, but the voice inside me, the one Edred had trained so well — and the one that understood that the High Priestess was very much like Edred in her need to get exactly what she wanted — said I couldn’t refuse.
Engaging with Her Brilliance’s court while she watched wasn’t as simple as what I wanted, and I needed to be careful.
If I refused too many men tonight, the High Priestess would notice.
If I didn’t play the role she’d carved out for me, she would find a way to remind me of my place.
I’d seen the way Edred operated. I recognized the tactics.
The only difference was that Her Brilliance wielded them with more elegance.
My stomach tightened, and I swallowed against the pressure forming in my throat.
The High Priestess wanted me mated. She’d made that clear when she’d paraded me in front of her court the very first time, when she’d drawn attention to my magic despite not knowing what it was, and when she’d spirit-linked me to West without asking if I wanted it.
I was useful to her for some reason, and useful people didn’t get to say no.
My hands curled in my lap, nails pressing into my palms. My breath came too shallow, and I forced myself to take a deeper one, but it didn’t help much.
I didn’t want to do this.
“Sage?” Zinnia’s hands stilled in my hair. “You’ve gone pale.”
“I’m fine.” I uncurled my fingers, but they trembled when I tried to smooth them over my skirt. “I’m fine.”
Without a doubt, Her Brilliance’s ballroom would be crowded with countless strangers, all of them watching me.