Chapter 8
Valen
An icy wind blew across the plateau, and Emmeline rubbed her arms. She was tinier than I’d expected—if this was, in fact, her true form. She had an almost foxlike face with broad cheekbones that tapered down to a narrow chin, and freckles dotted pale skin. A few twigs and leaves were still stuck in her curly brown hair, and dirt smeared her sorry excuse for a dress. I spotted a bruise forming under her sleeve and felt a twinge of guilt. Our meeting hadn’t gone according to plan.
“Can we leave now?” she asked. “It’s freezing up here.”
The asperity in her tone couldn’t hide the wariness in her eyes. I obviously intimidated her, which was good. If she feared me, she’d be more likely to cooperate. While I missed the bold, candid banter from the party, I needed her shapeshifting talents more than her witty conversation.
“We need to go over our fictional backstory before we arrive at my chateau,” I said. “I have a small staff of servants, and we can’t risk one of them suspecting the truth.”
Her lips twitched. “They’d sell you out, huh?”
I didn’t think so, but I couldn’t afford to take that risk.
“We’ll say we met at a party,” I said. “It’s the truth, so it’ll be easier to keep straight. I made it known that I traveled to Earth recently, so everyone will believe the story easily enough.”
“Except I don’t go to fancy parties and grand feasts on Earth.” She kicked a rock in the sand.
“The Court doesn’t know that. No one is going to investigate your life’s history.”
She glared. “Youdid, didn’t you? You tracked me down—and that was even without me telling you my real name.”
I allowed myself a small smirk. “Few people in the Moonlit Court can do what I do.”
“If you say so,” she grumbled.
“I do. That’s part of the reason we’ll pass you off as a noble. It’ll draw less attention than my courting a peasant, but you’ll need training. Your impersonation of Lady Celestine was passable, but you stumbled over courtly etiquette.”
“I was good enough to foolyou.”
“I found your lack of propriety charming. Others won’t.”
She pressed her lips together and inhaled deeply, making me wonder what biting comment was going through her head.
“How about a noble’s illegitimate daughter?” she asked after a moment. “That’ll explain away any mistakes.”
Yes, that would lessen her status somewhat, but the benefits outweighed the drawbacks. I kept any outward approval from showing on my face, but my chest swelled with satisfaction. It was a savvy suggestion, proving her keen wit, and my doubts about dragging her into this plot vanished. She was perfect; I’d chosen well.
“Agreed,” I said.
We spent the next twenty minutes going over the details of our courtship and rehearsing stories to tell. I had our entire history already planned out, but Emmeline made a few helpful—albeit resentful—contributions.
My pegasus snorted impatiently.
“One last thing,” I said. “You need to choose what form you’ll wear as Emmeline Le Brun. It doesn’t need to be your real appearance but something you can maintain daily for weeks.”
Her back straightened suddenly, like a bowstring pulled too tight. “Weeks?”
“The ball isn’t until next month—which is better for us. You need time to prepare, and the longer we have to sell the story that you’re my lover, the less suspicion we’ll draw.”
She rubbed her head. “You didn’t say I’d be stuck with you for weeks.”
Another icy wind blew past, flinging up sand and making Emmeline shiver.
“Is this really the best place you could find for us to talk?” she demanded.
“The sooner you choose, the sooner we can leave.”
