“Nimai!” Kesk’s voice, dragging Everil’s unwilling attention to him. He stepped in front of them, brow furrowed with apparent displeasure. Veroni, at least, was busy with their other guests. “And Everil.”
“Kesk, my friend,” Nimai replied. Everil recognized the warning note in his voice, though he wasn’t sure what he was being warned against. “Everil and I were just going to say our hellos to your lovely bond. Would you join us?”
“I came to find you, actually. We need to speak.” Kesk turned his attention to Everil and managed a sort of smile. “Politics, Everil. Don’t let us bore you.”
“Go fetch us drinks, my love.” Nimai patted Everil’s arm, then released it. “Wait for me by the fountain.”
“Good to see you,” Kesk added, almost as if he meant it.
Everil couldn’t force himself to return the sentiment. He nodded, stiffly, and wove through the crowd toward a frozen table and the flame-licked delicacies waiting there. He’d only just reached it when a new voice interrupted his thoughts.
“How lovely to see you, Everil. May I join you?” Leana’s voice was unmistakable. He turned to find her waiting, clad in shimmering blue and white. Towering. Strange to see her thus, when Nimai always glamoured his height to match Everil’s. “Trilyn had questions about the pie. He’s trying to improve.”
It hurt just to look at her. Memories twisting like a knife.
Honey licked from gentle fingers. Unsteady, eager breaths. Bo, bound and willing, wearing only a crown of oak and epimedium.
Everil’s hand fell away from the frozen champagne flutes. It would be extraordinarily rude not to speak with Leana, regardless of what he might wish. Nimai would be displeased if he didn’t make an attempt at sociability.
“Leana. It’s an honor. Though I fear I know little of baking.”
“Even better. No biases toward various types of butter. “ Leana reached past him, taking two champagne flutes. “Would you mind terribly if we scooted from the crowd? I’m afraid I’m no longer used to a great many voices all at once.”
In truth, Everil did mind. Terribly. Leana’s every word, every smile, cut new furrows into wounds that would never heal. But his hurt was immaterial. Deserved.
He checked the crowd, but Nimai and Kesk had disappeared somewhere, leaving Everil to manage the social scene as best as he might on his own.
“What would you do withoutme.”
Useless, alone. Worse than useless.
“Whatever you prefer.” Everil offered Leana his arm. “The gardens are quieter.”
Leana took his arm, foisting one of the flutes off on him as she allowed him to lead her toward the gardens.
This was how it was supposed to go. Laughing partygoers. Crystal flowers blooming on foliage made of hoarfrost. Elegant entertainment and the chance to charm. Everil, off his lead rope but docile. A credit to his House. To Nimai.
“The questions are limited,” Leana admitted, laughing voice unapologetic. “They consist of ‘Did you like it?’ and ‘Were the apples too soft?’.”
Everil took a sip of the champagne. It spoiled to vinegar on his tongue.Rot.A blackened berry fell from his hair to the ice-rimed path.
“You may tell Trilyn that we enjoyed it. I.Ienjoyed it. The apples were fine.”
“I’ll do so. It’ll make his day, I’m sure.” Leana watched him over her glass, and Everil knew she wasn’t yet done with him. “At the risk of being rude, Everil, I’m somewhat surprised, I suppose, to hear of your current choice of companion.”
“I’m sure many are saying the same of Nimai.” He turned the glass in his hands, as the rich gold of the liquid inside began to dim. “Please don’t take my actions as a lack of gratitude for your time and judgment. Unfortunately, the final trial went poorly.”
“Ah,” Leana said, after a long stretch of silence. “I’d wondered why the fruit went sharp. I met Bo once before. Did you know? When he was young and still caught in his parents’ web. Very earnest. Sweet.” The brownie sighed, shaking her head. “May I take from your presence that the Council didn’t have him killed?”
“Bo is safe.” Ridiculous, that a protective growl still entered Everil’s voice. But there it was. “You’re correct that I’d not be in attendance, otherwise. He is … hostage to my good behavior.”
And he should not have admitted that. Not to Leana, not to anyone. But what would any fae care how a human might be used? Nimai could hardly fault him for honesty.
Though he would.
“How very disappointing.” Leana clicked her tongue, all prim disapproval. “Nimai, dear. Not you. I expect brownies to know better than to poison their homes.”
“Nimai has always been very possessive of his things.” If Leana was disapproving, Everil was merely flat. “I indulged my feelings to Bo’s harm. It was foolish of me to think matters might be other than they’ve always been.”
