I frown skeptically. “He did not seem to think that highly of me.”
“Your first mistake with the Fae is assuming that if a male seems to dislike you, he doesn’t also want you in his bed. The line between disdain and desire is a very fine one.”
Her words ring with more truth than she realizes, settling heavily in the air between us.
“Well, I’m glad I wasn’t there to accept,” I say, trying to brush off the unsettling implications.
“Probably best for both of you. If the prince had seen you, he would have likely served Reon’s head for dessert.”
“The prince wouldn’t care,” I mutter, skepticism coloring my voice.
“I doubt that’s true,” Solena replies, her tone firm. “This may be an arranged marriage, but any Mordorin bride is treated the same by her husband. It’s law.”
“And what law is that?” I ask, curiosity piqued.
“You are his,” she says nonchalantly. “His wife. His confidante. His lover. No man may look at you, touch you, or even think about you. Any who does issues a challenge to the prince.”
“Even a lord?”
“Especially a lord,” Solena affirms. “I can only imagine what would happen if Prince Daedalus returned to find you in Lord Reon’s arms. The prince has a temper.”
Images of last night flash through my mind—Daed’s eyes completely black, his voice twisted and foreign, as if something dark controlled him.
“Can the moon really make the Mordorin act… differently?” I ask, avoiding her gaze, hoping to conceal the turmoil brewing within me.
Solena eyes me suspiciously. “It can. The Pale Eye has a profound effect on the Mordorin Fae. She brings us into the world and embraces us when we leave. Her phases empower us, stir our memories, and ignite our passions. We like to believe the Mother Above is the reason the Mordorin survived the Betrayer’s Battle when all others faded.”
“Would she make your eyes turn solid black? Make you act so differently that you become unrecognizable?”
Solena’s curiosity deepens, and she furrows her brow. “No. The Mother doesn’t cause black eyes. That belongs to something else—something darker.”
“The void?” I gulp, the word hanging heavy in the air.
She nods, but her expression remains guarded. “You’ve heard of the void, then?”
“Arax mentioned it in bits and pieces.”
“He seems to have taken a liking to you,” Solena remarks, her tone edged with surprise. “Which is rare, especially considering he lost his position because you saved his life.”
“That isn’t fair, and I’ll tell that to the king. Arax shouldn’t have to suffer because I didn’t want him to die.”
“Whydidn’tyou want him to die?” Solena asks, her voice sharp, as if this question has been weighing on her mind for a long time.
I sink onto the bed, taking a deep breath to steady myself. “Because death is frightening and final, and I have the power to prevent it. What good is this gift if I don’t use it?”
“But why save a Fae?” Solena presses, her intrigue evident.
I ponder her question, feeling the complexities swirl in my mind, making the answer elusive. At last, I reply, “I didn’t see him as Fae when I acted. I just knew he was dying, and I could help.”
Solena studies me with her thoughtful eyes, assessing. “I think I may have underestimated you, Princess Amara. You’re not the simple, treacherous, cowardly human I once thought you were.”
I frown, unsure how to take her words. “Thank you?”
She dips her chin slightly, as if to acknowledge my gratitude, but I sense she doesn’t realize her compliment isn’t as kind as she believes.
“Now, if you are feeling unwell again, would you like me to help you get ready for bed, Your Highness?” she asks, shifting the conversation.
I nod wearily and she hurries to my side and begins undressing me. I’m not concerned anymore with modesty or my dislike of being attended so preciously. I just want this dress off. She pops open each button, easing the dress of my shoulders until it falls under its own weight and it crumples around my knees. Solena tugs at the strings of my corset and when the last one comes undone I can finally hunch forward and breath a little easier.
