He leans against the trunk of the tree behind him, posture casual as he waves a hand toward Lorelei. “You have that...earthen magic. You’re practically related to a centaur.”
Lorelei scowls. “I’m a wood nymph, and you are clearly trying to get on my nerves.”
He tilts his head, lips pulling into a sultry smile. “I didn’t realize I had to try so hard.”
She rolls her eyes. “Is your sister at the palace?”
“Why, is she back in your good graces? Come to rekindle that spark?”
“There’s no spark, but I seek an audience with her. You’ll take us to her.”
His eyes fall on me for the first time, assessing me from head to toe. “Us? Is this your new plaything? I thought your heart was truer than that. Darling Malan has hardly been dead for—”
Lorelei lifts her hand, and a pointed root erupts from the earth at the fae male’s feet. He can hardly flinch before it rises and hovers an inch from his throat, the sharp tip vibrating as if it begs to dart forward and sink into the fae’s flesh. “Don’t you dare speak of Malan or so much as utter a word about me being untrue to her memory. If anyone knows about being untrue, it’s your sister.”
His wide eyes are all that betray his composure. He holds up his hands in casual surrender. “My apologies.”
With a violent sweep of her hand, the root burrows back into the ground.
He straightens his waistcoat and extends his arm. “To Selene Palace.”
Lorelei brushes past him. Before I can take a step, he faces me and folds into a graceful bow. I can’t tell if he’s mocking me. “Prince Franco at your service. And you are?”
“Evelyn,” I mutter through pursed lips.
“Evelyn. Is that your true—”
“Don’t even start.” With a scowl, I rush after Lorelei.
Prince Franco matches my pace, eyes burning into me. “I like you.”
“Excuse me?”
He smiles, revealing the tips of elongated canines. A vampire. “You smell like violence. That’s my preferred vintage.” With a nod of approval, he streams to the head of our small retinue and leads the way.
With a shudder, I force my trembling legs to keep moving.
15
Queen Nyxia is a sight to behold, as is the lush palace that surrounds her. Upon an obsidian throne, she sits with such confident authority, you’d think she’s the queen of the world. Walls of moonstone and opal make up the throne room while the ceiling ends in enormous domed glass, giving an open view of the sky above.
My eyes linger on this feature as Prince Franco leads us toward his sister. “You should see it at night,” he whispers in my ear.
I avert my gaze without a reply, focusing on the Lunar Queen instead. Lorelei and I drop into curtsies. As we straighten, Nyxia rises from her obsidian throne and steps down from the dais to approach us while Franco sprawls on an elegant chair at the base of the throne.
My eyes are locked on Nyxia, stunned by her eclectic clothing. At the council meeting, she wore a slim black suit. Now she wears dark silk trousers with a top that is somewhere between a jacket and a dress. The material is a blue so dark it’s almost black and shimmers indigo and violet when she moves. The collar is enormous, its stiff fabric lifting from the neck to frame her face at an angle. The front is cropped above her hips like a waistcoat, but the back is like an open-front skirt, trailing the ground behind her.
Like the first time I saw her, her short silvery hair is slicked back, and her smile reveals pointed canines. She assesses me from head to toe. “What an odd surprise. If it isn’t Miss Evelyn Fairfield.”
I force my words past my lips, hoping I can manage them without a stutter. “I come seeking your hospitality for a short period of time.”
“Now, what would King Aspen’s mate be doing seeking hospitality with me? Aren’t you his beloved champion?” Her voice is laced with sarcasm. “Then again, he sure is collecting his share of mates these days, isn’t he? I believe I’m supposed to witness yet another grand spectacle with a Chosen in a few days from now.”
My breath hitches and I find my throat stripped of words.
Fortunately, she doesn’t wait for a response, instead turning her attention to my companion. “And you, Lorelei. How wonderful to see you again. I didn’t realize we were on speaking terms. You hardly said a word to me at Bircharbor.” Her rosy lips pull into a pout.
Lorelei crosses her arms, throwing out all sense of formality. “Trust me, we wouldn’t be on speaking terms if I didn’t need to call in that favor you owe me.”
