“There,” he says softly, securing the end with a knot in the silver thread he gave me on our wedding day. “Perfect.”
But even as warmth blooms in my chest at his gentle care, and his willingness to reaffirm our marriage, sadness sits heavy in my throat like an unswallowed stone. Tonight might be many things ending, and I’m not sure I’m prepared for any of them.
The formal courtly outer-robes laid out on our bed seem to mock me with their elegance. Deep midnight black silk embroidered with silver thread that matches my braid, the formal regalia of a fey prince. The fabric whispers of a life I’m about to leave behind forever. Because even if I return to the realm, stripping me of my title is the very least they will do to me.
Jack meets my eyes in the mirror, his expression growing concerned. Those warm brown eyes that see far too much, that read my moods better than I read them myself.
“Are you sure you want to go tonight?”
His arms come around me, and I lean back against his chest, letting his solid warmth anchor me to the present moment. I marvel again at how natural this has become. How easily he offers comfort without being asked, and how easily I can accept it.
“If all goes well, and I decide to stay, this could be the last time I see three of my brothers,” I say quietly. “Tristan, Mabon and Rhydian. After the portals close, they’ll choose to return to the fey realm rather than stay here as exiles.”
“I’ve already lost Llywelyn,” I continue, my voice barely above a whisper. “He was banished from court. I’ll never see him again, and I didn’t do enough.”
“What did you do?” Jack asks gently, his voice carefully neutral. He never pushes, never demands more than I’m willing to give.
“Not much.” The guilt sits like poison in my veins, familiar and corrosive. “But he wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for me. That little I did manage.”
Jack presses a kiss to the side of my neck, his breath warm against my skin. “That’s more than enough, Love. You can’t save everyone, Dyfri. The weight of the entire world is not your responsibility.”
The words should be comforting, but they bounce off the armour of guilt I’ve worn for so long that it feels like part of my skin. Every person I couldn’t save, every abuse I couldn’t prevent, every small cruelty I witnessed and did nothing to stop. They all pile up like stones in my chest.
I sigh, letting my head fall back against his shoulder. “Then why does it feel as if it is?”
Jack kisses my neck again, soft and lingering. “Well, now it’s mine too. Husbands share responsibilities. That’s what marriage is for.”
The simple declaration makes the tightness in my chest loosen slightly. Not just the weight of saving two worlds, but the burden of carrying everything alone. When did I stop having to face things by myself? When did I acquire someone who willingly shares the load of my guilt and fear and desperate need to protect others?
“Ready?” Jack asks, straightening and offering me his arm with mock formality.
“Ready,” I lie, and let him lead me toward what might be my final goodbye.
The court is in full splendour tonight, all glittering magic and beautiful cruelty dressed in silk and jewels. Music drifts through the air like spun moonlight, and courtiers move in careful patterns that have nothing to do with dancing and everything to do with political positioning.
I scan the crowd and immediately spot Tristan’s distinctive red hair across the ballroom. He’s deep in animated conversation with Jack, gesturing wildly with obvious enthusiasm. I knew they’d get along. Tristan is incessantly cheerful and friendly, just like Jack, with an optimism that borders on the delusional. In any other setting, they’d probably be the best of friends.
My chest tightens as I watch them. Tristan’s laugh carries across the music, bright and genuine. After tonight, I’ll never hear that laugh again. Never see him throw his head back in delight at some clever joke or watch his eyes light up when he’s excited about something.
But there, standing beside my brother with barely concealed irritation, is his human pet. Ollie.
Tiny and beautiful, with golden hair that catches the light and emerald eyes that miss nothing. Bad-tempered and rude on the best of days, but tonight there’s something sharper in his expression. Something that makes my skin crawl with unease.
Ollie knows too much, and while he has never said anything too directly, there’s always been something calculating in the way he looks at me. Like he’s putting together pieces of a puzzle I desperately need him to leave unsolved.
Right now he’s glaring at me across the ballroom, those green eyes burning with undisguised hostility. Theintensity of it makes me want to step backwards, to put more distance between us. There’s something almost feral in his expression, like a cornered animal deciding whether to bite or run.
Combined with the knowledge that this is likely the last time I’ll see Tristan, that in the not too distant future my brother will return to the fey realm, and if I choose to stay, Selwyn and I will be alone among humans forever, I’m struggling to keep my emotions in order.
Even if I follow Tristan, Mabon and Rhydian back to the realm, they will hate me for the traitor that I am. Whatever I do. Whatever I choose. I’m going to lose them.
The walls feel like they’re closing in. The music is too loud, the lights too bright, the press of bodies too suffocating. I need air, space, a moment to compose myself before I do something that gives everything away.
I make my way to the drinks table, weaving through clusters of courtiers without really seeing them. The crystal decanters gleam, filled with wines and spirits that sparkle with more than just alcohol. Drinks designed to lower inhibitions and encourage indiscretion.
I position myself with my back to the room. For just a moment, I don’t have to concentrate on looking cold and aloof. For just a moment, I can let the mask slip and breathe.
The crystal decanters blur slightly as I stare at them, fighting to keep control. Everything is changing. Soon there will be no more excuses to return to court. And then, no more brothers to see. It will be just me and Jack and whatever victory we can wrangle.
