12. Of feasts and unexpected kisses
OF FEASTS AND UNEXPECTED KISSES
ENORA
Sleep came easily without the weight of my imminent death weighing on my shoulders.
Funny how that worked.
After the wildly unexpected outcome of my meeting with Maksym, I endured twenty minutes of Eilir squeaking in unbridled excitement before I crawled right back into my bed, the sweet sprite be damned.
We had the rest of my lousy life to talk about all the things my new keeper wanted to show me in Grimmoria. I appreciated them, truly, because who knew if my soon-to-be husband would ever share the same sentiment? But good goddess, I was fucking exhausted.
The sprite’s offence at my lack of interest in conversation didn’t last long either.
They turned out to be more attentive than any maid I’d ever met, coming and going at all hours of the day.
Making sure I had slept, that I’d woken up and eaten, forcing me to see glimpses of sun on the modest terrace.
They made sure I took a nice long bath every day too, even when all I wanted to do was fuse with the sofa.
They kept the conversation light for those first couple of days, telling me a little about Grimmoria’s history while avoiding the topic of Maksym.
Or his age. Or his many dead family members.
But I learned digestible pieces about the dark fae, like how they dressed—mostly dresses and flowing layers for the women, unfortunately—what some of their delicacies were, and even several holidays, which, to my astonishment, were largely the same as what we celebrated in Odessa.
And that was why, on my third day of rest and respite, Eilir’s absence came as a surprise.
That morning, a simple knock on my door awakened me. When I fumbled my way out of bed, I found a dark fae worker outside my door, wearing a kind smile, a simple dress, and carrying a tray of food. They said little other than good morning and enjoy your breakfast, and then, they were gone.
Sunny skies had graced the morning, though, so I headed outside to eat.
The view from the small terrace off my room was half-obscured by columnar trees with thick, dark foliage, overlooking a courtyard that left a little to be desired.
It must have been grand decades ago, but now, it was just an overgrown mess of vines and dried fountains.
Still, I’d never pass up fresh air.
And it was while I was stuffing my face with cured meats and pastries, sipping piping hot tea, that I had a wholly uncomfortable realization.
The feast was tonight.
Fuck.
It had to be why Eilir hadn’t shown up.
And how convenient that they told me very little about the Agōn Ferr or any of its components, even in all the things they prattled about in their bite-sized lessons over the last few days. I couldn’t help the wave of unease that passed over me the longer I looked at my breakfast.
Food. Drink. Festivities.
All things I could handle, just with the added pressure of my entire circumstance.
I’d yet to meet any of the Elixia outside of Gallan, who was exceptionally personable, and it took little imagination to picture how some of them were bound to react to my presence.
I was, after all, not only a foreigner in their cloistered kingdom, but an alleged criminal, staring down a marriage to their king based on nothing but an archaic law.
I’d be more shocked if I didn’t ruffle a few feathers with his most trusted disciples.
But I was presented with an incredible opportunity to prove my worth to these people, or so Eilir had casually mentioned once or twice in their ongoing bid at getting me to look at the bright side of things.
That I found myself in agreement was a little concerning.
And maybe it was that especially off-putting realization that had me trying to make myself half-presentable before I wandered out into the hall after my breakfast. What I hoped to find?
I did not know. But I would not find it inside the walls of my bedroom.
They’d become a shade away from suffocating, and the Eilir-driven silence was allowing my mind too much time to wander.
I remembered little of the Keep’s layout, courtesy of my wonderful mental state during my first spin around the building, and I’d been a touch preoccupied when the sprite took me to see Maksym to seal my bargain. But a stronghold could only be laid out in so many ways—or so I hoped.
In the hall outside my suite, there were two other sets of doors set into the dark stone—one a more subtle entryway, while the furthest set was stately and full of sophisticated carvings.
I might not have known what I was searching for, but it was not whatever would come from knocking on random doors, unsure of what I would find beyond them.
Instead, I followed the length of the dark stone hallway, lit by the pale blue glow of nytefire lanterns, until I came across an archway that spilled into a spacious corridor—the first place I recognized from my original tour.
For being midmorning, it was unexpectedly quiet—a few Umbrites in uniform coming and going, most offering me only a passing glance.
Clearly, Maksym had done something if the drop of silver in their dark sea was being regarded with such neutrality.
It did wonders for my comfort, though my curiosity would have appreciated a lingering glance as an opportunity to spark even passing conversation.
The farther I traveled down the expansive corridor, topped with sporadic skylights that let in streaks of the morning sun, the more I remembered the space from when Maksym first brought me up from my cell.
It was only a short distance farther that I finally came upon the overlook into the atrium where the king had joked with me for the first time that day.
A fucking cock joke, of all things.
To my pleasant surprise, when I peered over the railing into the relative quiet below, I found exactly what I hadn’t known I was looking for.
None other than the king himself engaged in conversation with two dark fae men—members of his Elixia, I assumed—who were both armed to the teeth and wearing boisterous expressions.
I could not understand a word of what they were saying in voices that were clearly intended to be hushed, though still amplified in the echoing frame of the atrium.
Their words carried the same lilting tone as Maksym used when he sealed our bargain.
I waited up there for longer than I should have, watching them have an animated conversation—Maksym the most reserved of the three—but the hallmarks of a reunion long overdue engrossed me.
One man, shorter than Maksym but broader in every regard, kept grabbing the king by the shoulder with such intensity, he had to steady himself on the wall.
The other couldn’t stop using his hands to give animated recounts for long enough to accost anyone, and I imagined Maksym was grateful for that.
The entire display made my heart ache in a way I wasn’t entirely prepared for.
Why I didn’t turn and leave at that first painful pang of nostalgia, I didn’t know, but I leaned against the bronzed cap of the railing, my chin propped on my fist, watching and watching.
Laughter and grins, more shaken shoulders and conspiratorial-sounding words.
And maybe that painful reminiscence of reunions I’d never experience again was why I didn’t initially notice one of the strange men’s attention drifting up to me.
But when my eyes met his, depthless black pits framed by deep creases, I stiffened.
He was quick to give Maksym a shove and point at me, a flurry of more words I didn’t understand leaving his lips.
The king, too, went stiff.
There was no point in turning tail now.
I waited as Maksym turned back to his companions, muttered something just as fast, and jogged towards the stairs that swept up to the overlook. His eyes were wide with unease, but he was silent as he put his hand on my back and urged me firmly back in the direction I’d come from.
“And here I was, thinking I wasn’t a prisoner anymore,” I scoffed, and Maksym flashed me a strained smile.
“You aren’t,” he said through a tense jaw. “Not exactly. But until you have been well and thoroughly introduced to everyone this evening, I would prefer if you avoided wandering on your own. Is there anything you need? Did Eilir not come by to–”
“Who were they down there? Elixia?”
Maksym’s mouth opened and closed before he nodded, quickening our pace.
“They are. Old ones. Incredibly.” His voice was hushed, as if he’d found himself uneasy of prying ears in his own damned keep.
“Both started their service with my grandsire and are miserable unless they’re out scouring the wilds for threats, living off the land and such. Incredibly wary of outsiders.”
I stared at Maksym, but he gave me no reprieve in our hurried steps. “Your grandsire?” I chuckled and shook my head. “Fuck me. They are old.”
“Exactly. But as I was saying, if there is anything you need, just send for Eilir. They’ll be overjoyed to help you in any way they can, I promise.”
“I don’t need anything.” What was it with these dark fae, always assuming I needed something? “But Eilir didn’t show up this morning. So, I’ve been alone all day, and, frankly, I’m getting a little bored being cooped up inside there.”
There was Maksym’s equally tense and pleading smile again.
“Eilir must have had business in the woods, so I apologize. I just ask for your patience for one more day.” He’d guided me all the damned way back to my room, square in front of the door, and backed a couple of graceful steps away.
“I’ll come for you when it’s time to go down to the feast tonight, I promise. ”
Maksym did not come for me when it was time to go down to the feast.
A first promise broken out of many dozens to come, I was sure. Apparently, he’d been mobbed by several Elixia members who’d just returned from a lengthy operation and asked Gallan to fetch his future bride in his stead.
A familiar face was nice, though if Maksym thought that would ease my disappointment, he was sorely mistaken.