Chapter 19 #2
Oriana watched us pass, face devoid of expression. I wondered what she thought I was doing and how harshly she judged me for it. At least I was doing something, though.
“Have you declared for Hector or Drustan yet?” Imogen asked me. “I hear that was the ultimatum Drustan gave in the throne room.”
So we were going to discuss this immediately. Faeries did seem more willing to be direct in one-on-one conversations. “This is a very public venue for this discussion.”
“Anyone who gets close enough will only hear us remarking on the weather.”
“How—” Then I realized, and alarm jolted through me. “An illusion.” She couldn’t just manipulate what people saw—she could get in their heads and change what they heard or felt, too.
She fluttered her eyelashes prettily. “A small one.”
This led to an even more unpleasant realization. “You could cast an illusion to make everyone believe the other house heads are swearing fealty to you.” What was the point of this Accord when she could manipulate everyone into thinking peace had been decided her way?
“I could,” she acknowledged. “It would be a large net to cast, affecting so many minds at once, but I’m capable of it at the scale of this party.
Possibly even the scale of a state dinner—I’ve never extended my power that far, but I am of the blood of Ceridwen.
” She glanced at me. “But it would soon become clear those oaths were a lie. That would eradicate all public trust in me, which would defeat the purpose.”
It was a small comfort, but Shards, I hated her power. At least being burned by mystical fire or ripped apart by shadows was tangible. I would see a death like that coming. With Imogen in my head, I might not see anything at all. “I will not react well if you use your magic on me,” I told her.
“And I will not react well if you use yours on me,” she returned. “Which is why we must rely on social niceties.” She smiled, raising her hand to show off the thin chain crossing her palm. “For now.”
This close, I was struck by how small she was compared to the impression she gave off.
Not short—though she was on the smaller side for Mistei’s faeries, a few inches shorter than Lara—but slight, with pointed features and delicate fingers.
Her brown hair tumbled prettily over her shoulders, and she smelled like lavender and wine.
“How do you know about the conversation in the throne room?” I asked. “The Illusion soldiers were all dead or gone by then.”
“One of the corpses wasn’t quite dead.” She shrugged.
“I would have guessed at the outcome, anyway. A vacant throne must be filled quickly, and Hector would never allow Drustan to be the sole one to seize that opportunity. If they are against each other, Light is with me, and Earth is neutral, they each need the validation of the final house’s support. ”
Maybe I could gain important information from her, or at least sow doubts that might help my faction. “Is Light House with you? Because that doesn’t seem certain.”
“Enough of it. Soon to be all of it.” She gave me a sympathetic look. “I hope you haven’t grown attached to Gweneira. Idealists tend not to do well in that house.”
I barely knew Gweneira, but I was attached to the idea of her versus someone like Torin. “You must not be an idealist, either.”
“Oh, I am,” she said, guiding me farther down the slope.
“As much as anyone who thinks the future can be better than the past is an idealist. Mistei will have its eternal spring again.” She waved her hand, and the flowers in a nearby planter box transformed into jewel-bright birds before taking flight.
There were murmurs of appreciation from the guests, which quickly turned to gasps of delight when the floral centerpiece on their table became a pile of precious jewels.
“For you,” Imogen called out. “Anything you desire, let me make it yours.”
After we passed, I looked over my shoulder. The planter box was intact again, no birds in sight. The jewels, however, remained. They’d been disguised by magic all along.
She repeated the performance at the next table. Everywhere we went, fortunes sprouted, quickly scooped up by greedy hands. “You think to buy their allegiance,” I said judgmentally.
She laughed. “There’s the human in you. Yes, I will, because the Fae love nothing more than indulgence. Once I’m queen, we will sing and dance and make merry for a thousand years. We will remember what we once were.”
I remembered those legends—of faeries who lured human musicians into their revelry with promises of gold and fame, then forced them to play for a single night that lasted a century.
Lies mixed with truths: the faeries did love to dance, but even this twilight realm followed the rhythms of the sun.
“But you’re willing to kill to get there. ”
“Yes, because the Fae love that, too.”
The straightforwardness with which she said that was disturbing. “And you consider that idealism?”
“Do not mistake me,” she said, giving me a chiding look like I was the unreasonable one.
“I do not personally enjoy killing the way Osric did. Most of the Fae would say they do not, either. But this is a cycle we find ourselves in again and again. If we did not love it, why would we keep doing it?” She shrugged, then gave me a blinding smile.
“I do hope to accomplish this without too much bloodshed. But much like you wanted Torin and Rowena to know what you’re capable of, I want you to know what I’m capable of. ”
Was it a threat? An honest confession from someone seeking to win me to her side? Both?
We were passing the Fire section now. I kept my eyes straight ahead as riches shimmered into existence on the tables. I could imagine the metaphorical holes Drustan’s stare was burning in me as Imogen performed her latest mass act of bribery with our arms still linked together.
“And you think Light House wants to make merry with you for a thousand years?” I asked, having trouble believing it.
She giggled. “Oh, they are so joyless on the whole. No, Light House wants a firm hand and a firmer purpose. They crave being the keepers of order—so I must provide them with an order to preserve. What it consists of matters little, as you saw with Osric. Wouldn’t you prefer a merry queen to that?”
She was making a disturbing type of sense. “Torin and Rowena are ambitious, though. Possibly even insane. Are you certain they won’t turn on you?”
“Look how quickly you try to drive a wedge between us.” She was still smiling as she shook her head. “Oh, I like this.”
“Why?”
She reached out to snag a glass of wine from a passing servant’s tray.
“Have you tried this yet?” she asked instead of answering my question.
“It’s a special vintage. No one outside Illusion House has tasted it in centuries.
” She leaned in conspiratorially. “You could have a barrel of it every night if you wish.”
“I’m not interested.”
She pouted. “Oh, very well.” She drained it in a few quick swallows, then flung the empty glass aside. It shattered against a planter box, and a servant immediately rushed to pick up the pieces. “Then tell me, Kenna. What is it you crave?”
My brows rose at both the question and her intemperance. How much alcohol had she consumed already? “For no more poisonous salamanders to be left on my doorstep, as a start.”
She made a tsking sound. “You cannot blame them for moving to eliminate an enemy. Without the support of a secondary house, both Drustan and Hector’s claims to the throne are weakened.”
I was surprised she would admit it. “So you knew.”
“I will deny it, of course.”
“Then you must also know about the Illusion faerie who attacked me at Earth’s entrance.”
There was a delicate pause. “I will deny that, as well.”
“Was it you?” I asked bluntly.
Her lashes swept down, and a dimple popped out on one cheek. “Queens usually delegate the more unsavory tasks.”
I wondered which faerie it had been. Her advisor, Ulric? Markas? More likely an unimportant soldier, someone she wouldn’t mind losing if they were caught. “Are you also delegating to eliminate Hector and Drustan?”
She shook her head. “That would cause more problems than it solved. No one would believe it was an accident, and once one party breaks the Accord, the others are free to follow.”
“How would killing me be any different?”
“You are so new to this world, and accidents happen. How are you to know what’s safe and what isn’t when you’ve only been a faerie for a few days?”
A chill swept over me.
“And your house is so small,” she continued. “Who would avenge you for a bit of clumsiness, or for touching something you shouldn’t have? It would be a terrible tragedy, of course, but worth risking the entirety of Mistei over? I think not.”
My vulnerability was excruciatingly obvious.
A house was the root of all power, and I barely had one.
I didn’t have a fearsome reputation, either.
If I touched a poisonous animal or tripped into a trap, the Fae who disdained humans would be quick to let that scorn color their thinking.
My very nature would provide the alibi for my killers.
“It doesn’t have to be like that, though,” she said. “If you vow to support me after Lughnasa, I will ensure there are no more surprises left outside your door—and no more invisible assailants, either.”
Another bribe. A barrel of wine every night, piles of jewels, the protection of the queen…If I pointed at the sun, she might promise to take it down from the sky, so long as it meant I abandoned my cause for hers. “My loyalty is not so easily won.”
“Not even by Drustan, it seems.” She glanced that way, and a laugh tumbled out of her. “Oh, he looks angry. Is that the reason you came to speak with me? To anger him?”
She was too close to a portion of the truth. “I told you why I came over.”
“None of us are motivated by only one thing.” She cocked her head, still studying him.
“Normally he’s much more charming than this.
I wonder…” Then she shook her head and pulled me onward.
“No matter. I’m beginning to sense threats aren’t the best way to motivate you.
Tell me what else you want. Wealth? Power?
A company of soldiers to order around? The Fire prince in your bed? ”
“No,” I said vehemently.
Her lips curved, and I realized I had made a mistake. “Ah, but I see.”
I wasn’t going to ask what she saw. I wasn’t—“What do you see?”
“Kallen rarely gets in public altercations unless he’s executing someone. Drustan never gets in altercations at all. He’s too political for that.”
I felt the prickle of unease at the back of my neck. “Tempers are running high this week.”
“My very favorite thing is learning what people want,” Imogen said, bringing her head closer to mine as if confessing a scandalous secret.
“Not just the desires they wear on the surface, but the real ones underneath. And then I like giving it to them.” She pulled me to a stop, then gripped my hands in hers.
Her fingers were cool, the nails long and sharp enough to press a warning into my skin.
“Drustan would eat and breathe power if he could,” she told me.
“That is his obvious desire. And that’s what you want, too, you pretty little thing, even if you won’t tell me so.
You want strength. You want respect. I can give that to you.
” Her eyes changed color, the purple spinning into a silver vortex.
The scent of flowers on the air intensified, growing heady and intoxicating.
“I can give you more, though,” she whispered.
“If you want one of them, or even both of them, I can help break them to your will. I can show them such imaginings, the kinds of dreams that haunt them during the day, too, until all they can think about is—”
“Stop it,” I said, tearing my hands out of hers and backing away. My backside hit a table, and I heard the clatter of falling glassware.
The laughter and chatter at that table abruptly died. The guests seated there had probably only heard us talking about the weather, but there was no hiding my hostile posture as I faced Imogen with my fists clenched and my cheeks so blazing hot I knew they looked red.
“Come now,” Imogen said softly, that canny smile still on her lips. “It’s not a crime to want things.”
I stalked towards her again. “I don’t want anything created from a lie,” I said, low and fierce. “You’ll have to do better than that.”
Then I hurried past her to find Lara, trying to ignore the stares that followed.