Livia rolled her eyes, but kissed Erik’s jawline.
Mira leaned onto her elbows over the table, her attention on the somber features of the king’s cousin. “What of you, Hearttalker?”
“Heart. Walker. And what?” Tait had the same red in his eyes as Bloodsinger, but they darkened when he faced the princess.
“Would you carry your woman around like the king during your vows?”
Tait frowned. “I wouldn’t vow.”
“You might change your mind if?—”
“No.” His voice was cutting and final.
Mira cursed under her breath, muttered a few words likefoolandsod, then abandoned the table until she joined a crew of Rave, the warriors of the fae kingdoms.
She didn’t look back to notice that Heartwalker tracked every step of her retreat.
Aleksi pounded his drinking horn on the table. “Strange, but I have to agree with Bloodsinger, Jo.”
The sea king narrowed his eyes. “There are times you don’t agree with me?”
I tossed back the last of my wine. “What are you trying to say, Alek?”
“You should be with your wife during the vow feast.”
The great hall of the elven palace was aglow with endless torches and sconces with flickering candles. Tables lined the edges, holding noble folk of Natthaven, Rave warriors, noble houses from the Ever Kingdom, and the royals of our lands.
In the center, couples danced to the beat of drums and curved harps. Servants traipsed between the crowds filling wine and ale for guests. It was a revel of note to celebrate a bride and groom.
It merely seemed the only two who had not interacted were the actual bride and groom.
Starlight hair gleamed from across the hall. Godsdammit. The sensible gown she’d abandoned the courtyard to don was made of blue fabrics, delicate enough the slightest breeze rustled the skirt like sea waves. The neckline was carved out down to her smooth stomach, revealing the sun-darkened tint of her skin and side swells of her breasts.
To make her all the more alluring, coils of designs peeked out across her flesh. Was it paint for the ceremony? An elven tradition? Or had my apprehensive bride inked places of her skin like I’d done with mine?
My depraved mind drifted to the unwelcome desire to peel back more of that gown to see more of those delicate designs.
Bleeding hells. This was meant to be the end, a vow to secure peace, then we could live our lives by all other means quite separate.
Buried in the corners of her full lips was a secret smile, pleading to break free should someone be clever enough to draw it out. Would her laugh be like a song or soft as a whisper?
A courtier from one of the fae kingdoms dipped his chin, drawing her attention.
Beneath the table, a fist curled over my knee. I did not blink as shetipped the crystal flute to those sweet lips, listening as the bastard told her what was likely a dull, arrogant tale.
He looked to be from one of Mira’s forest courts where revelry was as common as breathing, and skill with a blade was a foreign notion.
What a sod.
Until he waved his hands with a new bit of exuberance and my wife closed her eyes, jolting like he might strike her.
Dark heat gathered like a knot of jagged iron in my chest. She flinched and I wanted to know why.
A desire for violence burned in my veins, swift and fierce. Wicked dealings were no strangers in my world, but the onslaught of this was a cheap strike from behind, claiming all my rational thought.
I rose from my seat, burdened with a new starvation for answers that twisted low in my gut. I didn’t look anywhere but at the tension in her jaw, the expression that hinted her thoughts had drifted somewhere drearier.
Conversation stalled when I shoved through some of the elven and fae, some addressed me regally, others congratulated me on my vows. I ignored it all and gripped the top of the fae’s shoulder.
