Chapter Seventeen
Banging on my door wakes me from a fitful sleep the next day. Groaning, I roll over. Dusky light filters through my window, indicating the late afternoon. Who needs me at this hour?
“Avery!” Briar shouts from the other side.
“What?” I mumble.
“Wake up!”
I drag a shawl across my shoulders and stumble to the door. Briar gathers her hair into a bun, stray pieces falling out.
“Get dressed.”
“My shift doesn’t start for another few hours,” I grumble. “And I don’t return to Illusion for at least another moon.”
“Change of plans.” She rubs her eyes. “The Upper Court is indulging in games in the state gardens this afternoon, and we’re required to be there.”
“Why not the Day Crests? I can’t miss my shift—”
“The king will be there, but dress as if you are an Illusion Crest still. The lady’s orders.”
I’m still an Illusion Crest, I think glumly, but do as I’m told.
—
The spring sun is high and warm, the breeze soft and soil-scented. I shade my eyes and follow Kassandra, clad in a flowy white sundress, a lacy white parasol propped against a shoulder. You’ll look like a bride, Briar had said, to which Kassandra snapped, I look boring.
My lady then turned sharp eyes on me for the first time in half a month and tutted, Your genius smells different. Before I could respond, she declared she was ready for her picnic.
We approach the lawn where several figures mill under a white tent pitched off to the side.
Kassandra groans, glancing at us over her shoulder. “I hate this game.”
I scan the flat lawn. “What game, my lady?”
“Prize of the Pith.”
Only when we reach the edge of the lawn do I understand. Red, black, gold, and silver squares wind around the entire grassy area, forming a giant square that spirals inward.
“They painted the plant to make the board,” Kassandra says.
We reach the tent and the cluster of fae in its shade: Death, Eli, and the king, clad in lavender. My blood sings at the sight of the royal in that color, for while small, it’s my doing. Kassandra slows, Briar and I stopping short. The males take her in.
“My king,” she says, curtsying. “Lord Eli.”
“Lady Kassandra.” The Head of Healing nods, smoothing down his embroidered red waistcoat.
“You look lovely today.” King Maxian kisses her hand.
“You as well. That color suits you.”
He grins, eyes flicking over her shoulder to me. He winks, then draws Kassandra closer, taking the parasol from her grasp and leading her to a long table lined with emerald wine bottles and two-bite cakes. They order sparkling wine from the faerie behind the table.
Lila emerges from the shade at the far side of the tent. Her golden silk uniform flutters in the spring breeze, and she curtsies to Lord Eli as she passes him. “My lord.”
“Lila.” His gaze roams over her. “How are you faring?”
“Better now that the weather is warming. Thank you for the tip about mushrooms.”
He nods. “Did you try fish as well?”
She makes a face, and he laughs. They exchange a few more words before she joins Briar and me by a corner tent pole.
“What was that about?” I ask.
“Oh, Lord Eli suggested foods to improve my mood in the wintertime.”
Yet Eli still looks at Lila with not appetite but rather something akin to awe, like a creature spotting sunlight after a storm. I store the observation away to ask her about it later.
“Do you know this game?” Briar asks Lila, who shakes her head.
I drop my voice. “Is it not odd that we’re here?”
“Apparently, each High Fae was allowed to bring two of their…favorites.” Lila winces. “Carter and I will be moved by the king, you and Briar by Kassandra. The two faeries by the food and drink are Healing Crests.”
My gaze cuts to Kassandra, laughing at something the king says. Eli converses with Death brooding in the opposite corner.
“Oh, here come Carter and…” Lila stops, brows knitting.
I turn to see what has caught her attention, and my stomach bottoms out. Carter leads Lord Dominik toward us in a white-and-gold tunic, smiling like a wolf.
“Dom!” the king shouts. Next to him, Kassandra grips the stem of her glass and finishes her drink.
“Friends,” the Heir of Illusion drones, striding under the shade of the tent, as I and the other faeries back away to make room. My stare drops to his boots, their shiny pointed toes pompous in the growing midafternoon light.
Briar catches my eye, and I understand our mistake. The siblings match in their white, and in the state gardens, with the flowing liquor and the little cakes, it looks as if they are getting married.
The three males clap one another on the back, smiling, laughing. Kassandra stands apart, inching around the crew. She darts over to us while Carter joins the king’s side. The groups form—the females and the males—despite the varying statuses.
“I look ridiculous,” Kassandra seethes, swatting at her skirt as it balloons in the wind. “Like one of those overfrosted cakes on the table.”
Lila gapes. “No, you are a vision, my lady.”
“Ugh, I don’t seek flattery, but I always welcome it, so thank you.”
“Would you like me to fetch you another wine?” Briar asks.
“Or two.”
Briar nods, taking the empty glass from Kassandra, and departs. My mistress narrows her attention on me. “What did you say to the king?”
My tongue depresses with the weighty oath.
“For fuck’s sake, Avery, if I wanted to interact with an entire casing of sausages today, I wouldn’t have skipped breakfast,” she snaps. Lila coughs, covering her mouth. Kassandra studies her for a moment. “You’re Maxian’s Lila, right?”
Maxian’s Lila. As if Lila’s a beloved pet.
“Yes, Lady Kassandra.”
“He speaks highly of you during luncheons. He says you’re the only thing that has kept him sane all these years.”
Lila’s blush deepens, and I close my mouth, trying to suppress the shock at my mistress’s soft words and kind tone. It is not the smooth, light voice of a well-bred female or the surly retorts of a demanding superior. It’s something else. It’s her true voice.
“Thank you for relaying these words,” Lila says.
“I have a favor to ask. Will you help keep me sane by keeping my dunce of an attendant in line? Perhaps some of your positive qualities could rub off on her, though miracles are rare these days.”
My mouth drops open again. “Mistress, I—”
She whirls on me. “He and I were supposed to have a date—by ourselves—tonight. Yet here we are instead, playing a childhood game with Eli and my brother. And the king wore my favorite color on him. Don’t give me that look—just because they’re slobbery dogs doesn’t mean I can’t occasionally admire the coat! ”
“I didn’t say anything!” I protest. A lie.
Lila goes to apologize for me, but I shake my head.
It’s not like that, not with Kassandra. To become a simpering fool would only anger her further.
She wants a fight but can’t have it with the males around her, so the best target is a faerie who will not submit easily.
The plane swirls in her direction, my skin prickling.
“Avery,” Kassandra warns.
“Act like it’s still a date,” I whisper.
The eddy of the plane slows, and my body sags with relief.
“Act like it’s a date,” I repeat. “Dominik may be repulsed by the flirtation, but he’ll be appeased that you’re pursuing the king. That way, he may not push so much anymore. He may even leave you alone.”
Briar returns, handing her a glass. Throwing her head back, Kassandra downs the entire drink, then wipes her mouth with her hand.
“Fine, but I’m winning.” She hesitates, eyeing me up and down, and a phantom hand squeezes my biceps. My heart jolts, but I don’t move as she remarks: “What are you, made of rocks now?”
“I’ve been exercising while at Reign, my lady.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Keep that to yourself.”
Without another word, Kassandra stomps away.
In her wake, Lila shifts. “Is it always like this?”
“Yes,” Briar and I reply.
“But…she values your opinion.”
“She called me a dunce,” I say.
“She’s still following your advice.” Lila nods.
Kassandra rejoins the males, reaching for the king, who takes her hand once more, cupping her palm as it grazes his cheek. Dominik makes a face. The king glances up, surveying the tent.
“High Fae and faeries! The game will begin when Lord Dominik’s attendants arrive.”
The Illusion heir glares at his sister from across their circle. Even by the king’s side, Kassandra stiffens. The king glances between the siblings, angling his shoulders to face Dominik directly.
“Is everything all right, brother?” he asks.
“I knew they would be late,” Dominik snorts.
“They’re children, are they not?”
Briar sucks in a breath. I follow her gaze to the servants’ entrance, which spits out two Unluckies, one tall and the other petite, ringed head to toe in debt. My mind registers his curls, his growing limbs, the wide and wild expression.
Benji.
My heart plummets, mouth drying out.
“Get over here!” Dominik yells, and I recoil.
The other faerie breaks into a jog, and Benji struggles to keep up, little chest heaving, face growing shiny already. “Benji!” I lurch forward, but Briar clutches my arm.
“Not here,” she says.
He glances my way, fear in his eyes, and Dominik grabs his shoulder, smirking. Cold sweat rolls down my back. It’s as if my night terrors have come to life.
Maxian quirks a brow. “The boy from the coronation?”
“You said I am to play on behalf of House of Death, as my sister is playing for Illusion and the executioner will be the game master. As there are no Death faeries here, I chose the Illusion Bases that are closest to death.”
The king gestures to Dominik. “You seem to be feeling generous today.”
“Perhaps we give the boy a chance at redemption.”
“Pawns, to your places!” the king commands.
We line up at the start of the labyrinth, the widest part of the path at the bottom corner of the board. To my left are Lila and Carter. Briar stands on my right, and beyond her are the Healing faeries, then Benji and the other Unluckie.