He gives me a slow nod.
My bottom lip trembles. “Will…”
“It scares me that humans can be so fragile,” he whispers, his eyes locked on mine. “I never thought I’d love one?—”
He snaps his mouth shut as footsteps echo over the floors behind us. His vulnerable expression disappears behind a calculated mask, one so convincing it makes me question whether I imagined the soft moment we just shared.
He turns to face the interloper while I’m stuck on what he left unsaid. What was that about love? He was on the verge of confessing something important, I just know it.
Could it have been about June?
Or…could I be so vain as to think it might have had to do with me?
“There they are,” says a feminine voice.
It takes no small effort to draw myself out of my head—until I lay my eyes on the female fae who must be Aubrey. She’s as stunning as the ballroom around us with a curvaceous figure, enormous violet eyes, and blonde hair that melts into a pale blue at the ends. She’s outfitted in a blouse and skirt in a similar style to mine, but the folds and pleats suit her hourglass frame so well they must be custom made. Then there are the iridescent wings folded down her back. They remind me of a dragonfly’s but much larger to match the proportions of her humanoid form.
She stops before us and introduces herself to me. I give her a cordial greeting and hazard a glance at William, seeking anysign of lingering distress after our conversation. He looks fully at ease.
Maybe I imagined it after all. Maybe he was tugging my heartstrings on purpose. Maybe the game we’re playing has changed.
I do my best to cast the interaction out of my mind and remain rooted in the present.
Aubrey details tomorrow’s gala. “There will be dinner, dancing, and over a hundred auctions, all of which you are welcome to participate in. And I do mean all of you, even Daphne and Mr. Phillips, especially when it comes to dancing.”
She hands me two floral-patterned cards, each strung with a silk ribbon. I open one, finding a list of dances and an open space beside each. I haven’t held a dance card in years. Not since my debut social season.
“Please give one of these to Daphne,” Aubrey says, “so she can participate as well, should she so desire. Everyone who turns in their dance card at the end of the night will raise ten sapphire rounds for every dance that is filled. All proceeds go to the Faerwyvae Literary Society to support literacy outreach in rural towns, for seelie and unseelie children alike.”
“That’s a cause I can get behind,” I say as I tuck the cards in my skirt pocket.
“Lovely. Now, as our honored guests, you need to confirm your featured auction. William, have you considered the date I proposed?”
My heart leaps into my throat. A date? What does she mean by that?
“I’ve thought about it.” He glances at me sidelong. “Do you mind explaining it again?”
“Of course. My proposed auction for you is a date with a fan. Bidding starts at ten sapphire rounds. The highest bidder gets tospend an afternoon with you. In public, of course, and you can set the agenda. How does that sound?”
It takes several rapid beats of my heart before my mind catches up with what she’s proposing. My first thought was that she was asking William on a date. I’m only a tiny bit relieved that she was presenting an idea for an auction. There’s still a piece of me that burns to think of him alone with anyone else. Anyone who participates in his auction will surely have romance in mind.
“Sure,” William says after a stretch of silence, sending my stomach plummeting to my feet.
Why did I hope he’d refuse? What reason does he have when I wouldn’t let him dissolve our bet? If this date takes place before the end of our tour, he can turn it into an opportunity to earn a point. That’s why he asked her to repeat his proposal out loud. He’s trying to get under my skin.
“Great,” Aubrey says, then turns to me. “For you, I was thinking of an annotated copy of one of your books.”
A sliver of disappointment strikes me. After her idea for William’s auction, I thought mine might be something a little more sensational or exciting. Something that might make William as jealous as I’m feeling.
I shake my head to clear it. “Yes, that’s…great.”
“You already have an annotated copy.” William bumps his shoulder into mine, and it takes all my restraint not to shudder at the touch.
I blink at him, blinded by the crooked smile he gives me.
“It’s a copy ofmybook,” he says, “but it is annotated by both of us.”
Heat floods my cheeks as I realize what he’s referring to. The book we’ve exchanged back and forth, now filled with insults and crude altered poems. I tucked it in my carpet bag after the Winter Court signing and haven’t looked at it since.
