Chapter 61
“Sweet thing, wake up.”
With an unwilling grumble, I opened my eyes and spotted Cantarlann grinning as if he’d won Credenta’s summer solstice baking competition. “Ugh. Why don’t you let me sleep on?”
He’d disrupted such a pleasant dream, which still lingered on my mind. And since I was drowsy enough to indulge in the memory of whom I’d spent time with in my night fantasies without being too embarrassed, I did just that. Gods, I missed Dion.
Damn.
Since when had I become so emotionally attached to the insufferable bastard?
“We have arrived, dear.”
Stifling a yawn, my sleepiness and melancholy faded away in favor of excitement, and I snuck a glimpse outside.
We’d passed massive ornamental metal gates into an area resembling a compound.
The coach was gliding over a lane covered in bright white gravel, with emerald grass to the left and right, swaying in the breeze.
Blossoms in all the colors of the rainbow littered the meadow.
The sight in front of me resembled a beautiful painting, almost unreal in its splendor.
At last, we stopped in front of a giant mansion gleaming white in the midday sun. Vines of green, adorned with more vibrant flowers, climbed over the walls, giving the whole place a quite surreal vibe. A sweet smell, powerful and rich, filled my senses as I inhaled.
Cantarlann opened the coach door himself—instead of waiting for the help of a servant—and motioned to me to disembark first.
My muscles were stiff from sitting in the confined vehicle for over three days and nights, but if my chaperon noticed my discomfort, he didn’t comment on it.
In the front yard, people had conversations with each other, but they switched their attention to us, waved, and soon, even more fae poured out of the building, calling Cantarlann’s name.
Their excitement was an almost tangible force, and not long after, the entire gathering of Courtlings approached as one.
Every single one of them wore clothes in light tones—whites, creams, and pastels, like Cantarlann. In the black dress I’d hastily thrown on before escaping from Alaiann Palace, I stuck out like a sore thumb.
To state that I was surprised when the whole group of roughly ten dozen fae descended on their leader and hugged him, telling him how much they’d missed him, was an understatement. A few even kissed him, both males and females, and even with leniency, I couldn’t call these intimacies chaste.
Gods, imagining Thain within this swarm was way too easy.
Cantarlann laughed as he addressed his people, but I couldn’t hear what he’d announced over the excited chatter. But then he gestured to me, and before I could even blink, I found myself in the middle of a giant group hug, which I awkwardly endured.
Luckily, no one attempted to kiss me. After all, we were strangers, and this entire encounter overwhelmed me enough without staving off unwanted advances.
“Everyone, you can meet Nayana later. She’s surely tired from the long journey.” Cantarlann saved me from the huddle and smiled at me. “I’ll escort you to one of our guest rooms. You appear as if you’d prefer to sleep some more before I give you a tour.”
“That would be very nice, thank you.” I let out a small, relieved breath. So many curious faces stared at me, and discomfort crawled over my skin.
If Cantarlann realized, he didn’t show that he did.
Following him into the mansion, my steps faltered as I gawked in awe at the luxurious interior.
Everything was bright, in shades of white embellished with accents in gold and light wood.
Tapestries covered the walls, cream-colored with gilded flowing patterns and symbols.
I sadly wasn’t able to linger and inspect all the details as I struggled to keep up with my guide.
Finally, we arrived in a small, less decorated corridor with walls painted in a blush color and a simple ecru carpet, and Cantarlann opened a door.
“Apologies in advance should you find your room underwhelming. We don’t get many uninitiated visitors.”
As I stepped inside the humble chamber, the scent of fresh linen roused my senses, and I took a deep breath in appreciation. Although the space was furnished with nothing more than a modest bed, a small chest with drawers, a table, and two chairs, I found an immediate liking for my accommodations.
Airy curtains ruffled in the light breeze coming from the open window.
The sun illuminated the space, which was decorated in pastels in accordance with the rest of the mansion.
The room was clean, and honestly, after all the luxury during the last weeks, first in the royal castle of Ivreiana, then at Alaiann Palace, this was refreshing.
“Don’t apologize, I like your guest quarters, Cantarlann. Thank you for your hospitality. Hopefully, you won’t get in trouble with the High King for sheltering me.”
“Again, no worries about Galrach, darling. He doesn’t scare me, and I’m doubtful there’s any risk involved in housing you. But I’ll leave you to rest. If you agree, I’ll send someone later to fetch you for lunch?”
“Yes, that would be nice. And I’m looking forward to seeing more of your court.”
“You will, sweetling. In due time.”
As Cantarlann left, he closed the door behind him. His words had been reassuring, but if he wasn’t afraid of Galrach retaliating, why had there been genuine fear glinting in his eyes?
Everything I’d seen of the Cuirt an Ghra was almost too good to be true.
Everyone was constantly smiling, hugging, and kissing each other.
Never before in my life had I received so many compliments or hugs as within the last hours.
The residents were the complete opposite of those of the royal High Court, and after all the hostility in the previous weeks, I basked in the attention like a flower in the first sun after a long winter.
My head was pounding—I’d been still drowsy during the tour of the premises that Cantarlann had taken me on—and I wondered if I was getting sick.
Deciding to ignore my condition, I set out to explore the mansion on my own this afternoon. My host had assured me I was allowed to roam as I pleased, and so I donned a cream-colored dress tailored to the fashion of the Cuirt. Someone must have delivered some clothes to my chamber as I’d slept.
As promised, no one stopped me when I peeked behind closed doors. Secretly, I was hoping to catch a glimpse of the ancient light tribe, no matter how unlikely, as I wasn’t even certain if I’d recognize their members on sight.
The next common area I entered was cozy, with the softest plush carpet, a multitude of couches, chaises, and pillows over pillows. The fresh linen scent perfumed the air everywhere, and this space wasn’t an exception.
There were many spots similar to this one around, but as I wandered into this one, I froze.
On the floor, within a heap of pillows, lay a fae female, naked and spread out, while three equally bare males—enjoyed her. There was no other fitting word for the scene in front of me.
One male had his…cock shoved deep in her throat, another one bent over her and pleasured her core with his tongue.
The third was watching, fisting his manhood feverishly.
As the female’s hand wrapped around the length of the fae lapping at her as if she were his last meal, he groaned.
All four of them were very vocal about their pleasure, and the entire room smelled of their coupling—even for me.
I’d stumbled over one of those famous fae orgies.
Heavily blushing, I retreated backward, attempting to be as silent as possible, but one of the males spotted me, curved his lips into a smile, and crooked his finger at me to invite me to their menage. With major embarrassment, I shook my head, almost in panic, and darted out of the chamber.
Unsurprisingly, I refrained from opening any more closed doors. Maybe I wasn’t as innocent anymore as half a winter ago, but I was still uncomfortable witnessing group intercourse.
Also, if Dion had only the slightest suspicion that I hadn’t only stumbled over such a scene but had been invited to join, he’d disassemble the entire mansion with everyone inside, without a doubt.
After dinner two days later, I had a scheduled meeting with Cantarlann.
Earlier, he’d asked me again if I could imagine partaking in an initiation rite to the Cuirt, which would grant me the right to stay here indefinitely if I desired, would allow him to explain more, and would give me access to monitor some ceremonies.
Although this rite made me nervous—no matter how harmless Cantarlann painted the event to be—I was way too curious to decline.
Discreetly, I’d gathered more information, and everyone had confirmed there were no strings attached.
Even if I remained at the Cuirt for winters, I wouldn’t owe them anything.
There were no obligations, and no one would ever stop me from leaving.
This island was a sanctuary of peace and freedom, and I ate all the details up like I was a starving person at a banquet.
So, I met with Cantarlann in yet another cozy area, which resembled a sitting room. The walls were lined with shelves full of books, their spines bearing Galantian swirls.
“You seem nervous, Nayana.”
“No. No, I’m not. Just tired, and my head still hurts.”
“That’s worrisome. I’ll have a healer sent to you later. You’ve been in pain for quite a while, and I want to make sure Galrach didn’t contaminate you with something.”
My eyes widened as my stomach cramped. The possibility hadn’t even crossed my mind, and I shivered. “Oh gods, please no.”
“Calm down, sweet thing. We have the best healers around, and I promise nothing bad will happen to you.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nodded. Insecurity raged inside me. Not only was the idea that I could have been infected with a magical illness tearing at my sanity, but I still wasn’t sure if participating in this introduction was a good decision.