Chapter 24
Imogen hosted a silvered ball near Illusion House to commemorate the tenth day of the Accord.
The halls were brighter here, flickering with candles and lined with an off-white marble veined with dusty green and pink.
The tiles beneath my feet were the inverse, alternating pink and green squares with gold veins.
Illusion was the house that most favored beauty, and there was more art here than I’d seen anywhere else in Mistei—tapestries, paintings, draperies, vases stuffed with flowers, alcoves full of statuary.
Candelabra burned on decorative tables, and more candles floated overhead.
Pixies flitted between those wax tapers, showering sweet-smelling golden dust on us as we processed towards the ballroom.
The sheer volume of decoration should have made the area look cluttered, but instead it all fit perfectly together, drawing the eye from one attraction to the next seamlessly.
“Have you been here before?” I asked Lara.
“A few times,” she said, fluttering her crimson fan, “but Illusion didn’t host as many events as the other houses during Osric’s time. Normally a king would have named a new prince or princess to run the house, but he didn’t trust anyone to step into his old position.”
Paranoid even towards his own house members. “Did he stay here?”
She shook her head. “There’s a royal wing behind the throne room. Not every ruler in Fae history used it, but most did.”
Gweneira came up beside us. “So you have been reading my history books.”
Lara’s cheeks were already rouged, but I could have sworn they grew even rosier. “Just doing my best to make up for the years I spent dodging my tutors. You look lovely tonight, Gweneira.”
Gweneira wore a formal dress rather than the tunic and trousers she normally preferred, and the glittering ice-white attire sparkled in the candlelight.
A glass crown topped her short brown hair.
“Never as lovely as you,” she told Lara.
“The bards will invent dozens of poetic titles for you when they tell the story of this era.” She grinned quickly at me.
“And for you, of course, Princess Kenna.”
“No need to flatter me,” I said dryly. There was no denying that Lara was far lovelier than most of the faeries in this corridor. With her shiny black hair held up by ruby combs and her voluptuous figure highlighted by a plunging scarlet gown, she’d been catching almost every passing eye.
My own garnet-hued dress was a style I’d come to favor, with sleeves that culminated in points over the backs of my hands and a flat neckline that knew better than to try to make much of my bust. The main drama was in the back of the dress, where a plunging cowl revealed the line of my spine to my waist. With my hair pinned up, everyone could see Caedo coiled as a snake around my throat, silver tail winding down my bared back. I felt as fine as I ever had.
Lara and Gweneira fell into conversation.
I listened with half my attention, looking for familiar faces.
The crowd grew closer as we funneled towards the entrance to the ballroom, and this was one of the moments when I regretted being shorter than the average Fae.
The Shards had gifted me eternal life; could they truly not have offered me any extra height?
The pressure eased as we entered the ballroom, and I stifled a gasp at the beautiful sight.
Thousands of candles floated above, their warm light bringing out golden tones in the parquet floor.
Most walls in Mistei were stone, but these had been covered with wooden paneling painted with scenes from an airborne hunt.
An orchestra played from a rainbow-shielded gallery overhead.
Faeries were already swirling in intricate patterns on the dance floor, while others gossiped and strolled along the edges. Heavily laden banquet tables lined one entire wall, while the opposite held deep-cushioned chairs for anyone who wearied of dancing. The air smelled of lilacs.
Imogen presided over the room from a glass throne, with Torin and Rowena flanking her and armed guards standing behind—because no event was without guards these days, despite the chains crossing our palms. She sipped from a goblet, surveying the room with obvious pride.
The mood was exuberant, as always at Imogen’s parties, and as I watched a laughing couple nearly careen off the dance floor, it was clear many faeries were already inebriated.
Only twenty days left in the Accord. We drank and danced our way towards destruction.
“You should smile,” Lara said, tapping me lightly with her fan. “You look gloomy.”
I forced a smile to my lips. “Better?”
She eyed me. “Not particularly.”
Gweneira extended her hand. “Lady Lara, may I have the honor of your first dance?”
Lara curtsied. “I would be delighted.” She accepted Gweneira’s hand, and the two headed for the floor.
Lara would be dancing all night. Though her loss of magic had caused her to be ostracized by some faeries, the combination of her beauty and notoriety, the novelty of the situation, and the support of both the Blood princess and faeries like Gweneira had ensured her continuing popularity.
I spotted Drustan standing by the refreshment table, clad in apricot velvet with gold piping. I had promised not to let our history get in the way of the cause, so I reluctantly made my way over to him.
“You owe me more policies,” I said as I scooped punch into my cup from a crystal bowl. Enough faeries had been drinking from it already that I assumed it wasn’t poisoned.
He gave me a sardonic look. “Hello, Princess Kenna. How are you this evening?”
“Must we engage in empty pleasantries every time?” I asked, facing him fully. “We see each other often enough.”
“Do we?” He raised his brows. “Not as frequently as we used to.”
“I see you at all of Imogen’s parties,” I said, ignoring the implication.
“Then perhaps not as frequently as I’d like.” His eyes grew heavy-lidded, and he lightly touched his tongue to his lower lip.
I scowled. “Don’t play the flirt.”
“It’s a public event,” he said, still smoldering away. “I have to play the flirt.”
It was obnoxious how good he looked. How much time had he spent practicing that expression in a mirror? Had he deliberately pulled that small section of hair out of the neat tail he’d tied it back in? “And why is that?” I asked.
“Because I’ve been doing it for hundreds of years. Loyalty isn’t won with swords alone.”
“It’s won by making people want to fuck you?”
“Sometimes.”
I rolled my eyes, then sipped my punch, hoping the action disguised the stab of hurt at hearing him admit it so openly.
The liquid was harsher than I’d expected—Imogen seemed determined to keep everyone nearly insensate this month.
“Is there a reason you’re admitting this strategy?
It doesn’t make me think better of you.”
“Doesn’t it?” That seductive expression dimmed. “You wanted me to be honest with you. My power has been built on making connections. Making others want something, whether that’s freedom, revenge, a new world, revelry…or me.”
I took another drink, even knowing I should be more like Kallen and keep my head clear. “That’s what you did with me.”
“Yes and no.”
I hadn’t expected him to admit it so readily. The yes stung, but that no was trying to dig its claws into the tender parts of my heart, too, the parts that wished some of what we’d shared—any of it—had been real. “You admit you seduced me for access to Earth House?”
“Yes,” he said, gaze steady. “But I didn’t need to take it as far as I did. I did that because I wanted to.”
I looked away, watching the dancers as I processed the multifaceted pain of that admission. The swirling figures looked like flower petals caught in the wind. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“Maybe not. But as I told you, two things can be true. You wanted my honesty, so I’m telling you plainly that will always be the case with me. You might not like it, you might not think it’s moral, but that’s how it is.”
It wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear, and that in itself made me like it more.
I looked back at him, begrudgingly appreciating that he was finally telling me who he was.
Appreciating, too, with the lonely part of me that had been grieving this loss, that while our romance hadn’t been entirely real… it hadn’t been entirely false, either.
That still wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to be someone’s everything. I wanted them to be everything to me. But that small yes and no felt like a poultice applied to an inner wound.
I aimed for a lighter tone. “Then let me know when you’re done seducing the room so we can talk about our shared cause.”
“Why don’t we talk while we dance?” he asked, extending a hand as his expression relaxed into a toothy smile.
“Why don’t we talk sitting down?”
The smile faltered. Got you , I thought. Two things were always true at once with Drustan. He knew he’d made progress with me and was looking to press that advantage. It hadn’t been honesty just for honesty’s sake, or even just for my sake.
“Very well.” He offered me his arm, and I set the punch down before taking it, letting him guide me to the vacant line of chairs. We sat, and he angled himself towards me. “I can’t remember the last time I sat at a ball,” he complained. “I assume you’ve checked for eavesdroppers?”
I hadn’t, and I really needed to get into that habit.
I opened my senses to check for heartbeats, breathing, or the twitch of muscles from an invisible spy.
“There’s no one nearby.” I launched into it.
“When are you sending more policies? Your last letter mentioned more details about Elsmere would be forthcoming.”