Chapter Twenty #2
“Took you long enough.”
“Consider this a thank-you for sending me to the House of Reign.” I smile at his pale, cold face, the silver hair that brushes his shoulders. “No one else in the kingdom of Amyria has had this drink before.”
“And how do you know that?”
“I created it now, just for you.”
The Illusion lord curls his lip. What is he thinking? That I am stupid or devious or both? Perhaps I don’t mind the glint of suspicion in his eye, as if I am a threat to be noticed.
“I’m happy to give this to Lord Eli instead,” I suggest.
“I will have it.” Dominik snatches the glass and brings it up to his nose, inhales. He sips the concoction, rolls it across his tongue. He blinks. “It…is satisfactory,” he says, passing the drink to Eli.
“What’s in it?” the Head of Healing sniffs. “Orange, cinnamon, clove. But also something herbal?”
“Closed-bottle gentian,” I say. “From the Illusion courtyards.”
Dominik’s icy stare burns into me. “And how did you acquire that?”
I grin. “Magic.”
“I’ll have something different.” But when Dominik shoves the glass into my hands, it is empty.
The plane rumbles. Tumbling power fills the space, followed by a ripping noise. A great, awful, shredding sound of thick fiber.
The grandiose royal portrait of Wilhelm the Uniter splits open, and from the torn canvas steps out King Maxian.
“My lords!” he says. “Let’s have some fun tonight, shall we?”
Dominik swears. “Must you always act like that? Are we not too old for your hauntings?”
“One could argue we’ve only just lived long enough to start collecting ghosts.” Max laughs. “At our age, our fathers were killing Death fae in droves. No offense, Executioner,” he adds, throwing a glance to the shadow in the corner.
The shadow doesn’t move.
“Our fathers couldn’t find the clit,” Dominik murmurs to himself.
Eli cleans his glasses. “Who says you can find it now?”
Lila giggles behind her hand and I elbow her. Eli finds us, smiling. The look the Illusion heir throws his way could ice over lakes.
“Yes, I would’ve quite liked to make your sister turn pink, but it seems the sun beat me to it,” the king drawls.
Dominik groans. “Where’s my fucking drink?”
I can’t help it. I cough in shock. Maxian’s gaze slides to Lila and me, grinning. What has gotten into these males? “Shall we see what the ladies have prepared for us this evening?”
My neck and chest flush, to my horror. No one’s ever called me a lady.
Lila giggles again next to me. “You are too good, Your Magnificence!”
“As are you, Lila.”
Their pleasantries should grate, so at odds with what is happening in the Illusion apartments, though I know that this is the power of Lila’s armor: shine and shine and shine until all the High Fae can see is a reflection of their best and most adored selves.
The king steps toward the table, rapping his knuckles against the wood. “Now, since it’ll just be the boys and I for dinner—I say let’s move to the lounge.”
“Shall Carter bring some vices?” Lila wonders.
“As long as only you and Avery deliver them.”
Goosebumps bud across my skin, for I have no idea what that could mean.
“How about some tobacco sparks?” Dominik suggests as Lila heads for the door.
“Terrible for the lungs,” Eli mutters.
“But your favorite.”
“Yes, even Healing fae have vices.”
“We all have many,” the king says, gaze sliding to me again. “Even the ones I hate, I love to hate them.”
“Avery,” Dominik snaps. “My drink?”
The rapping on the table stops.
I glance at the king, but he is watching Dominik. That beaming smile of white, straight teeth does not reach his eyes.
“Please,” Dominik adds.
“Of course, my lord.”
The king waves his hand, and the ripped painting of Wilhelm the Uniter stitches itself back together. I watch in awe and horror as what is done is undone, like changing history.
“Wow, Your Magnificence,” I breathe, and for once, it is genuine.
“Matter and Mind.” The king shrugs. “We only repair by hand what is sentimental to us. Now, after this round of drinks, we’ll head to the lounge.”
“How are we traveling to it this time?” Eli asks.
Perhaps I’ve ingested the drugs meant for the royals, because nothing they say makes sense. After handing the king his lavender drink, I layer together ginger and lime for Dominik’s concoction. He frowns as he drains the entire glass. He likes it.
“The lounge is ready for dinner service,” Lila declares when she returns.
The king nods, passing his empty cup to me. His fingers brush mine.
“Thank you.” He holds my gaze. Then he steps up to his own portrait, flushed with soft youth—and rips it in half with his magic.
“Come on, boys,” he calls, pushing through the parted canvas. “Girls, you can come this way, too.”
“They change the lounge entrance for the fae after every use,” Lila whispers to me, giddy, as Eli and Dominik file in after him.
“I’ve only served in there twice before.
The first time, the king broke through the rock.
Another time, we had to submerge ourselves in a fountain and swim out to the other side! ”
I gape at her. “They alter how the entrance looks?”
She shakes her head. “They alter what the entrance is.”
“How?”
“Matter and Mind,” she says. “The Vandornes shape the world. And they want the other fae to remember that.”