41. The Starlight Tea
Chapter 41
The Starlight Tea
CINDER
S o I’m not bailing, like I planned. Somewhere between the studio, the Ember of Midnight, and coming on Prince Charming’s way too talented mouth, I caved.
And now I sit stiffly beside Kai, at the Starlight Tea, my untouched teacup in front of me. And to make matters worse, my stepfamily holds court directly across from us.
At least the setting is picturesque, with the gardens surrounding us and exotic flora indigenous only to Midnight. But even in this beautiful vista, I can’t relax.
Candelabras are lit all around, their flickering light caught by the diaphanous white curtains that serve as a partition. The chairs are plush and luxurious, but the seating arrangement is a cage.
If it were my friends gathered around the long tables instead of these fanged haters and my evil stepfamily, I could see this being a magical time. What girl doesn’t enjoy a tea party?
I can’t bring myself to stomach even a sip of what’s in my china cup. I already know it will taste like bitter resentment and forced interactions.
The only reason I can handle being here now is Kai. He came over to my room in the middle of everyone dressing me beforehand, caught one look at my face, and ordered them all out.
Then he spent twenty minutes fucking the absolute sense out of me until I couldn’t worry about what was to come.
How the fuck did he know I was knotted in so much anxiety it was making me sick?
Kaison took the edge off for me, but the longer I sit here, the higher my nerves begin to climb again.
Marisela is entrenched in conversation with the King, her purple-painted lips curving in a calculated smile. Anastasia keeps throwing Kai sultry looks from beneath lowered lashes, while Drusilla's unnerving stare darts between us, lingering on me just a bit too long each time.
I grip the table edge until my knuckles turn white, fighting the urge to bolt. Kai must sense my unease, because he reaches over and takes my hand in his, lacing our fingers together in a pointed display of unity.
It does little to deter his admirers. If anything, their giggling intensifies, their eyes sharpening with predatory interest. Apparently, being engaged to a human only makes the prince more desirable.
I'm just about to excuse myself, propriety be damned when a familiar approaches our table. The scent of cinnamon wafts through the air as he sets a plate down in front of me.
“What is that?” Anastasia wrinkles her nose in disgust, eyeing the offering like it's roadkill.
Kai leans back, slinging a casual arm behind me. “Humans are accustomed to cake with their tea, and my bride deserves the very best treats.”
I glance down at the plate, my heartbeat stuttering. There, in all its golden glory, sits a generous slice of pumpkin spice cake.
In Midnight.
Shock ripples through the table, the other ladies aghast at the audacity of serving human food at their precious tea party. Even the ambassadors are not served food in the Midnight realm.
I barely register their horror rippling around me. I'm too busy staring at Kai, a silent question in my eyes.
He raises a brow in return, a ghost of a smirk playing at his lips.
You did this for me?
Of course. Don't you want it?
I swallow hard, my chest suddenly tight. As I reach for the fork with trembling fingers, I can feel every eye on me, waiting for me to make a spectacle of myself.
My eyes flutter shut in pure bliss as I take that first bite. The rich spices dance on my tongue, the moist cake practically melting in my mouth. I can't contain the soft moan that escapes me, lost in a moment of unadulterated pleasure.
When I open my eyes again, Kai is watching me intently, his gaze molten. There's a heat there that has nothing to do with the tea and everything to do with the way I savored that sinful bite.
I'm suddenly hyperaware of his arm brushing mine, of the way his fingertips draw idle patterns on my shoulder. The air between us feels charged, electric.
“I didn’t know you were so flexible to get your foot there ,” Kai husks into my ear.
I’m still busy enjoying the cake, but I say around a happy mouthful, “Put my foot where?”
Kai jerks so hard the entire table clanks, the China shuttering in outrage. He draws the attention of almost everyone.
His forehead scrunches up as he stares at Anastasia with accusation. My stepsister flutters her lashes at him coquettishly.
Oh.
Not my foot.
“Are you alright, Your Highness?” she asks Kaison with feigned concern. “Sometimes the outdoors can be so. . .agitating, would you like me to escort you indoors?”
I nearly choke on my cake.
I don’t remember my stepsister being so transparent. Or dumb.
“I'm fine, thank you,” Kaison grits out, his jaw clenched.
That's when Marisela’s voice raises as if wanting everyone to be part of the conversation she’s having with the King. “Indeed, if our prince is to marry, it is only right that he show his commitment to our traditions.” My stepmother’s tone is saccharine. “What would show our people that this is a true union is if this young couple went through with the marking.”
Ice slides down my spine. The marking?
That doesn’t sound good.
The King chimes in, his eyes glinting with malice. “Yes, the marking would indeed uphold the values and commitment to tradition and the Midnight fairy ways.”
I turn to Kai, a question in my furrowed brow. But before I can voice it, he squeezes my hand in warning, his face carefully blank.
Stay quiet for now, we’ll talk later.
Marisela smiles at me, a cruel twist of her lips. “Why, it's only the highest honor, my dear.”
Kaison's grip tightens, grounding me even as I feel danger pulsating all around me. “Surely you see how inappropriate that would be,” he says, his words clipped. “She cannot leave a mark on me. Perhaps when she has acclimated more?—”
“Nonsense.” The King cuts him off, his tone brooking no argument. “The consummation of your union must be sealed by the marking. Marisela is absolutely right. It's paramount to unite the bloodlines and prevent. . .friction within the monarchy.”
Silence falls like a heavy hammer.
But as I meet Kaison’s gaze, I know whatever we’d just been committed to is not good.
“Are you going to tell me what the fae fucks we just agreed to?” I ask as soon as Kaison and I are out of earshot of the others. “What is the marking?”
He pulled me away, telling the others he needed a moment alone to impress me with the swath of Midnight roses. I can’t focus on the full blooms of blackish-blue petals all around us that smell like a floral licorice.
I understood Kai’s signal and kept my mouth shut, but I knew from his reaction we have a problem. A big problem.
“They want me to bite you.” Kaison doesn’t mince words, he simply comes out with it.
The voice disappears from my throat in a puff of smoke as the air squeezes out of my lungs.
Kai watches me carefully, letting me react, letting me travel back to the conversation and put it in context of the ‘mark her, or this marriage won’t happen.’
I'm trembling now, my heart rabbiting against my ribs. The thought of Kai's fangs piercing my skin, of being bound to him like that. . .it's too much.
“I—I can’t.” I force the words out despite having no breath.
Kai’s face is flat, expressionless, which scares me even further. “I know.”
My chest tightens. The flowers swirl and blend in a dizzying array of color. I can't breathe.
“Why?”
He takes a few steps away from me, caressing the head of a rose as he explains. “Midnight fairies mark each other with their bite mark—it's called the Seal of Amaranthe. No matter how much blood a Midnight fairy drinks, that scar does not disappear. It’s a true signal of dedication, loyalty. Your stepmother and my father are trying to call our bluff.” His fingers close, crushing the flower head in his grasp.
“Is there some supernatural binding to the bite?” I ask.
This sounds like mating.
I already know full well that weres have mates and it affects them physically to the point where if they break ties, it can mean death. I’m not sure what scares me more. Trusting Kaison to bite me and drink from me, or being bound to him beyond our deal?
Kai licks his lips slowly. “Not exactly. It means that. . .”
I don’t know why he is hedging now. “What? Spit it out.”
“It means that your blood will have power over me for the rest of my life.”
“Power over you ?” I ask.
Kai rips the flower head off the stem and throws it into the brush. “No other blood will ever taste as sweet as yours. It’s like an addiction I’ll always crave. Sex and blood.”
“And the same goes for me?” I guess dryly, even as panic crawls up my throat, threatening to choke me from the inside out.
“I don’t know,” he shakes his head, expression tortured. “I don’t know of any human who has been marked or what the effects would be.”
Great. Fae fucking fabulous.
“I—I’ll be right back,” I stutter, backing away.
“Cinder,” he says, trying to stop me.
I need space. I need to breathe. This is all spiraling out of my control.
Was it ever in my control?
I’m gone before he can stop me. I race through the gardens, headed toward the only place I can breathe. My eyes sting and my chest seizes, and I’m unable to catch my breath.
I only stop when I’m at the cliffside. Gasping for air, I curl my arms around my middle as the world threatens to tilt.
“I can’t believe you came back.”
My spine stiffens at the words.
Slowly turning, I find myself staring down the devil herself. Marisela.
My stepmother walks next to me and looks out over the crashing waves.
“I’d hoped you’d died,” she says airily.
“Ditto,” I say darkly.
A flash of a smile appears on her face before disappearing. “Yes, how strange to have such similar hopes and now to be in a helpful position for each other.”
“Helpful?”
My skin crawls. Goosebumps rising up.
Would she throw me over the edge onto the jagged, deadly rocks below? I wouldn’t put it past her. Hell, I was thinking of doing it.
Could I be like Kaison? I knew what she was. I knew the evil inside her. It could be so simple—just throw her over the edge and be done with my demon.
“Yes,” she goes on as if murdering each other isn’t imminent. “We need back into the good graces of the Midnight court, and you need to make it to your wedding. I believe we can have a mutually beneficial understanding. One that will lead us all to resuming a life as one big happy family.” The smile she gives me is one I’ve seen far too many times. She lied to me for years, but I spent nearly as many learning to see past them to the ugly truth inside her.
“You mean the life where you help the King edge me out so your dearest darling daughter can take my place?”
Marisela’s face tightens.
That’s right you ol’ bitch, you can’t get anything past me anymore. I know what you are.
“Well, I can’t say I tried.” She tuts insincerely. “But since you also can see where this is headed, don’t you think it’s best you just leave now?” The threat lingers just below the surface.
I want to scream, pull her hair, cut her up into tiny little ribbons the way she did to me for years.
I thought she loved me. The way she brushed my hair in front of my father. The way she pretended to be concerned about my fitting in with the other children. The way she told me I was just like my dad in a way that made me warm to my toes.
My father died and the rug was pulled out from under me, and I never stopped falling. Not for years. Not until Goldie, Rap, Red, and the Poison Apple.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to get justice for my father, and I won’t leave until I get it.”
Her smile flickers as one eye twitches. “You think your father was some saint? You think he was a good man? I may have married him to get on the fairy court, but I’m not the monster. He was.”
She can’t be fucking serious.
“You’re as deluded as you are greedy.”
“You wouldn’t know,” she hisses, her mask of decorum dropping like an anvil. “Not his precious Cinder who he doted on. Not his darling daughter who was better than everyone else. No, he never laid a hand on you. He never left bruises on your precious skin. He never left you a bloody pulp. It wasn’t even the adultery that bothered me, at least that way he was taking it out on some other whore rather than me.”
“You’re insane.” Whatever happened to Marisela in my absence, it really turned her brains to scrambled eggs to come up with these ridiculous victim stories.
“Insane? No. You think I only married your father to get close to the court? I have no qualms admitting I sought prestige, but he had his own agenda. Your father wanted so desperately to be one of us. He didn’t want to remain a familiar, he wanted the King to turn him into one of us, a Midnight fairy.”
“That’s impossible,” I scoff. “No one is turned vampire. You have to be born that way.”
She sniffs. “Maybe, maybe not.”
Oh dear fae lords.
It is possible?
She gives everything away. Familiars worked to get close to the vampires, but none were under the delusion they could be changed. But Marisela dropped her fa?ade and she can’t hide the truth.
My father knew he could be changed into one of them.
Holy witchtits.
Knots tighten in my belly.
“But your father was too useful to the King to be turned,” she goes on in a disgusted tone. “He was the bridge to the human world and brought more obedient, willing familiars, more fresh blood to our lands than had ever been accomplished before. It’s what made him truly valuable.” Her face darkens. “It’s also what made your father so angry. He’d made himself indispensable in such a way he could never become one of us. And he took it out on me .”
I scoff. “Even if what you are saying is true, the idea he could hurt you is laughable.”
Marisela is a vampire. He was a human. The power dynamic she’s describing doesn’t make sense.
Her face turns to stone with a seriousness I’ve never seen her exhibit before. Something else flickers underneath it and I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
Fear.
“You think the only way to hurt someone is by biting them? You think he was disarmed because he didn’t possess fangs? You couldn’t be more wrong. The man could charm a snake out of its skin one moment, but then he’d fly into such a rage the next. The countless times he’d grab the nearest heavy object and take his fury out on me. . .” she trails off, as if drawn back into some horrific memory.
“You’re a vampire,” I reiterate, unable to indulge in her bullshit for even a moment. If she is going to lie, it should at least be a good one. Knowing what a nefarious schemer she is, I at least expect better on this front.
Marisela doesn’t speak for a moment. “I am. And even the vampires know better than to invoke the thrall of the King. You displease his favorite familiar and it brings the wrath of King Charming, himself. I may have been physically stronger than your father, but I’m no match for our King. So I showed my strength by dragging myself off the floor, riddled in burn marks from those nasty cigarillos, bloodied and broken from the lamp he shattered over my head, from the dresser he’d push onto my body, drink some blood, heal, and pretend it never happened.”
My teeth clench, the skin on my jaw threatening to snap. This conniving bitch. How dare she spew such bullshit from her mouth when she is the real monster. This is… this is all ridiculous.
My father would never. He was good. Unlike her. She’s fucking delusional.
Every working cell in my body freezes as realization slams into me.
“You killed him.”
My stepmother licks one fang, not blinking. “Can’t say I had that particular pleasure, though I did have my suspicions someone else might have put an end to his miserable existence. And to be frank, I’d gladly cheer to their chalice of blood if I knew whoever it was.”
That’s it. I’m going to show her the wrath of a human. The way she callously makes up these lies about my dad who did nothing but serve this kingdom and give her what she wants.
My blood boils at the audacity of her words. How dare she slander my father's name, the man who had given everything for this kingdom and for her?
Without thinking, I lunge at her with murderous rage.
A strong arm wraps around my waist and pulls me back.
Kaison. His dark eyes are filled with concern and confusion.
“Cinder, what is going on?” His deep voice reverberates around me, causing me to take a hesitant step back. He stares back at me with an expression of confusion and detachment as if I'm a stranger to him.
He doesn’t know me.
Maybe I don’t even know me.
I wrench my wrist from his and turn and run, run like my life depends on it.
Tears blur my vision as I run from something that’s dug its way under my skin. Her lies are enough to drop a seed under my skin, and it sprouts tiny little leaves.
No. No, my father was my everything. He was a good man.
A memory ignites. He had grabbed paint buckets and flung them at the art I’d thought was so pretty. His curses would flow in violent streams of Korean as he lashed out at the source of his frustration.
He was envious of the vampires, he wanted to be one of them. He’d lash out in anger if a canvas wasn’t speaking to him. But he was an impassioned artist. That was just his thing.
He never turned that energy on me. So he would never turn it on anyone else.
Another sprig sprouts on my seed of doubt. Acidic bile shoots up my throat until I’m on the verge of throwing up.
Part of me wants to jump in my glass slippers and disappear back into the Common World, leaving all this ugliness and confusion behind. But I know that’s not an option anymore.
More than ever, I have to find out who killed my father and why.