Sulia was Felan’s enemy at Court. As soon as she thought it, she knew it to be truth and yet she had no proof, just suspicions.
“You are thinking like a mortal.” Sulia tapped her arm. “I will be his mistress. I will take the place of that blond fairy he is sometimes seen with. A low-level no one. He needs to aim higher.”
Right.
Surely if Felan were going to have a mistress, it would be with someone he loved, not another power-hungry fairy. Now didn’t seem like the best time to mention that, yet she knew she needed to warn Felan about Sulia. The woman was too…Taryn couldn’t put her finger on it.
She was sane, cold, and calculating, but there was a glimmer in her eyes like she wouldn’t let anyone get in her way and those that did would suffer.
“Ah, of course.” Taryn tried for a noncommittal smile.
“Felan requested you come to Court. You must know how his search for a bride goes.” Sulia hooked her arm with Taryn’s so she couldn’t pull away. She didn’t want anything to do with this woman’s scheming, yet it was already too late. It wasn’t friendship Sulia had wanted; she’d needed a spy, someone who Felan had known from the mortal world.
“He has said nothing to me.” That was the truth. Felan played his cards close to his chest and very carefully. He had to with people like Sulia around.
“Then maybe you need to spend some more time with him. Teach him some of your games. You owe me, Taryn.” Sulia’s nails pressed against her skin for a moment too long for it to be accidental.
Of that she was aware. And it was debt that would take far too long to repay. “I’m not sure the King would appreciate that.”
Sulia released her and spun to face her. “You’ll find a way. I need to know who she is and when he plans to bring her to Court.”
Taryn needed to find a way out of Court. But because of the power shift, she had to stay or risk death. Death was looking preferable. Yet even as she thought it, she knew she could never willingly place herself on the wrong side of the veil.
“If I hear anything, you will be the first to know.” So she would make damn sure she didn’t hear anything.
“I will be the only one you tell.” Then she smiled and her mood seemed to lighten instantly. “Come, we must see how the costumes are going. No doubt there will be some final adjustments.”
As dusk settled over the castle, Taryn could taste the change in the air. A sharp sense of expectation. Carefully she put lines of pale green just under her eyebrows and on her cheeks like the other women. The costumes were all in dark greens and browns, torn silks, feathers, and wooden beads, as if they had just stepped out of the forest. While some wore silk slippers, most had bare feet.
She dipped her fingers back into the paint and traced along her collarbone; then she put three slashes on each arm. The effect was a little like sexy jungle camouflage—until the lights went out. Then the paint began to glow.
Cheekbones and eyes were emphasized, as were the other lines marked on bodies. There were handprints on bare stomachs and glowing nipples peeking through fabric. Some had gone even further, the costumes quite see-through over the glowing body paint covering them. Oh God. The excitement of getting ready vanished in a flash, and she had the horrible feeling this midsummer party was an excuse for really bad behavior. If people put their keys in a bowl, she was going to hide in her room for the rest of the night.
She shivered and hoped she was getting ahead of herself. This was just a chance to dress up and have some fun. Did they know how to have fun or would they still be scheming and point scoring?
Led by the Queen, who wore a crown of leaves, they walked down the stairs. Taryn glanced at the hall. While she’d watched the decorations being placed in daylight, at night the transformation was total. The mushrooms were glowing as were the blue birds’ nests that had been strung up. The whole chamber was cast in soft light and shadows. A fairy glade ready to be inhabited by wild fae.
In the center of the hall was the King with a headdress of antlers; around him were the other men. Her heart clenched, but among the shadows and glowing body paint she couldn’t see Verden. He’d left Court yesterday; she’d heard that from Rhodia, who seemed to track his every move in and out of Court. But he had to be back for this, otherwise the Queen would be truly pissed. Eyra had been almost pleasant this afternoon. She’d smiled and joked with the other women as they’d gotten ready, accepted the praise for the costumes she’d had made and her brilliance in coming up with such an obscure theme. For the first time since her arrival, the frost had almost left the air.
Her feet touched the grassed floor. If it had looked amazing from above, from below the effect was stunning, like walking into another world. Like slipping back in time and becoming one of the wild fae Verden had talked about—the spriggands, the sylphs, and the dryads. The minstrels had their wooden pipes and delicate harps, but also little drums. The music was different, less constrained.
The King stepped forward and bowed to the Queen. She returned with a curtsy, her dress revealing a whole lot of leg amongst the rough, wide ribbons of silk. Then the King stepped back.
A man with a much smaller set of horns stepped forward to take the Queen’s hand. His chest was bare except for a painted spiral over his heart. His pants ended in rags just below his knees and around each bicep he wore a band of woven leaves and feathers. Verden. She bit her lip to keep the sigh from escaping, but her heart was pounding louder and faster than the drums. He looked so…so wild. A single line of glowing paint traced down his forehead to the end of his nose. Had he seen her?
No. His gaze was firmly on the Queen and no one else. As it should be. As they’d agreed. They weren’t together and couldn’t be until Felan took the throne. Until then, they had to wait. Maybe it wouldn’t last and all they had was sex in random places in the mortal world. Good sex, in amazing places. Her belly tightened as longing slid between her legs and lodged there. There would be no sneaking away tonight.
When the King stepped forward, she walked over and took his hand. Everyone else followed, one couple at a time as determined after the hunt. Small tables had been set up around the edges of the chamber, but the King’s usual table was still there, raised above everyone else so he could watch the goings-on.
“You look very pretty tonight.” The King kissed the back of her hand.
Where once she would have felt revulsion at the unwanted contact, now she sucked it up. She had to. She had to do everything right and pretend that she wasn’t in love with someone else or they were going to sink. Verden was right; they had gotten far too bold and careless far too quickly.
“And you look quite…” He did look good. Everyone did, as if they’d shed some of the weight and responsibility for just one night. “Wild and noble.” The antlers were truly amazing. Most of the men had horns of some kind and it took only a quick glance to realize that status was still denoted.
The King smiled. “Exactly what I was hoping for.”
There was no hint that he was still angry with her for asking him to pardon her father. But she also knew he would not back down; his pride wouldn’t let him. Is that what had happened with Eyra? One fight had turned toxic until neither of them would admit they were wrong and kiss and make up?