“Don’t drink and spell,” Kai says, abs flexing as he stretches his long legs. “Nothing good comes of it.”
“Veruca,” the princess breathes, lifting a hand over the back of the armrest to signal the fae maid standing in the corner. “Ask Gnorr for one of her special brews and have it brought up,” she directs, eyes closed.
The maid nods and disappears.
“I’m sorry you have to see us in such an unbecoming state,” she glances at me. “What a terrible first impression we must make. I promise we’re not always this dull. Our gatherings can sometimes get rather…spirited.”
“Especially when I’m in town,” Kai pipes, fixing his cool gaze on me. “Morning, gorgeous.”
I ignore him, turning back to the princess. “It sounds like I missed a rather eventful evening.”
“Oh, it was legendary. I’m sad you had to miss it.” She pulls the tie of her blush-colored robe tighter over her corset. I wonder if it's considered appropriate here for the males and females to be dressed down like this in front of one another. If it is, none of them seem to care. They look utterly unfazed, as if this is an everyday occurrence. The princess manages to sit up, planting her bare feet on the carpet.
“We snuck out,” she whispers conspiratorially.
“Where did you go?”
“The princess wanted to see what a pleasure hall was like after hours,” Kai interjects lazily.
“I had never been. Kai and Dover are always telling such wild stories. I just had to experience one for myself.”
“We’re never wrong, are we, Princess?” Kai drawls, his temple balancing on the tip of his pointer finger.
“We were wrong about that last line of Stardust,” Dover mutters from beside me. “I’ve never crashed this hard.”
“I’m fully depleted.” Cece sighs, tucking her long legs beneath her. “I can’t even feel my magic.”
“I can’t feel my face,” says little Ilsa grimly.
“Tell me, cousin, did you enjoy the ball last night? Thedancing?” asks the princess. “It must have been so different from your life at the temple.”
“Vastly different.” I nod and force a pleasant smile onto my lips. Lying has never been a strength of mine.
“It must have been tragically dull. Raised by a handful of priestesses,” Cece drawls languidly, her wide green eyes surveying me. “How did you end up there?”
You got this.
“I was born there,” I lie reflexively. I should have spent more time working on a believable backstory. For this to work, it needs to be tight. I chew my bottom lip as Cece continues to dig.
“Was your mother a refugee, or were you just a bastard?” she asks nonchalantly.
“Cece!” Sorscha berates, her mouth agape as she tosses an appalled look at the gorgeous fae. Cece gazes at me unflinchingly, her delicate chin balancing on the tip of her pointer finger.
She’s got some nerve.
“You don’t have to answer that.” Sorscha pats my knee apologetically.
Before I can say another word, a loud thud sounds from the adjoining suite, followed by a curse. I turn to see Marideth practically fall through the door, wearing nothing but a flimsy white nightgown and a diamond choker. Her auburn hair lies in disarray as she clutches the door handle to regain her balance. She stares at Ilsa in horror.
“What in hell happened toyou?” She gapes, gray eyes wide.
“I don’t remember,” Ilsa says blandly, reaching up to finger the uneven ends. She doesn’t seem to have any feelings about it, just remains perfectly blasé.
“She lost a round of do or die,” Cece says, lifting a jagged-edged lock and dropping it in disdain.
“What is do or die?” I ask.
“Oh, it’s loads of fun. We’ll teach you at the next soiree.” The princess pats my hand emphatically.
