“That one is beautiful, isn’t it?” the second female said, and it took Kailia a moment to realize the Fae was speaking to her. It also took her a moment to understand what she was referring to.
Looking down, she found her fingers hovering over a necklace. It was simple enough. A black leather cord with a single blue crystal. It was rather lovely, but she’d never had use for such things.
“It’s blue kyanite,” the female offered, pulling her hood back and giving her a bright smile. “It helps channel your self-worth and opens your mind to more lucid dreams.”
Kailia nodded but didn’t speak as she ran a fingertip over the crystal. Her dreams were lucid enough, and self-worth? Sheknew where her value lay. The necklace was beautiful in its simplicity though. Trivial, but beautiful.
She hissed as an arm brushed hers, the physical contact jarring. Her hand already halfway to her dagger, she forced herself to stop.
“I have noted this business requires a stand-in so you may attend the address,” a guard said. He didn’t wear the cloak of the festivities. Instead, his black and silver uniform was on display to clearly mark who he was.
“Yes, please,” the females answered in unison, quickly gathering small satchels and pulling their hoods back into place before setting off without a backward glance.
The guard glanced down at Kailia, his brow creasing slightly, and she pulled her hood up more.
“Are you Fae as well?” he asked. He didn’t give her time to respond, not that she would have anyway. “If you are, your presence is requested in the city center.”
He gestured to the north, and when she still didn’t respond, she watched him shift on his feet. It was subtle, but she could tell he was uncomfortable. Silence did that to most people.
Clearing his throat, he stepped into the merchant space. “If, uh, you’re not, you’ll have to wait until the females return to make a purchase.”
Nodding, she continued on, heading north anyway. She wanted to hear what the king had to say.
The closer she got to the city center, the harder it was to avoid being touched. Bodies brushed against her, and she ground her teeth, her skin crawling with every bump.
The street opened into a central square, and she sucked in a deep breath as the people spread out. There were still too many, but at least she could breathe here, not to mention keep her distance.
There was a platform in the middle, but it was empty. She’d expected to see the king sitting there on a grand throne of sorts. People milled about, most of them Fae she presumed. It was hard to tell the difference between the Fae and the Avonleyans. They all had slightly pointed ears along with enhanced speed and senses. They all had their magic, and some Fae were more powerful than others, depending on bloodlines.The fact that they were so similar was something she planned to use to her advantage.
She stumbled suddenly when someone ran into her, and she couldn’t help but think she wouldn’t have stumbled in her bare feet. It was these godsdamn boots. And all these people. She’d been prepared for it on the streets, but not here, at this moment. She certainly wasn’t prepared for the hand that caught her upper arm to keep her on her feet, not as the feel of fingers wrapping around her flesh made her want to scream.
A haze fell over her vision, and everything in her zeroed in on the touch that felt like a searing brand, just like any other time someone touched her. It wasn’t real. She knew that. It felt the same no matter who or what was touching her. It was the touch itself that made her want to crawl out of her skin and scream anddie. It made her want to be someone else completely.
Purely on instinct, she grabbed a dagger at her thigh and spun, breaking his hold on her. Her hand came down, the blade sinking into a male forearm. It wasn’t until after the male yanked his arm back, her dagger slicing a wide gash before coming free, that she realized what she’d done.
In front of far too many people.
But no one else had seemed to notice the small female at the back of the crowd. They were all facing the platform, anxiously awaiting the king.
A drop of blood slid from the blade, hitting the ground at her feet, and she lifted her chin defiantly as she stared into thedepths of the dark hood. She couldn’t see his features, but her hood had slipped back in her near fall, revealing her face and the braid that hung over her shoulder.
A stupid, careless mistake.
The male took a step forward, lifting a hand as if to reach for her, and she raised her dagger between them, the warning clear. She wasn’t sorry she’d stabbed him, and she’d do it again.
He stilled, his hand frozen between them for a moment, before he dropped it to his side. Without a word, he turned away from her, striding into the crowd.
Kailia tracked him, absentmindedly wiping her dagger on her pants before placing it back in the sheath at her thigh. They weren’t her usual daggers, so she didn’t really care if it was clean or not. She rarely had use for them.
Reaching behind her, she pulled her hood back up, tucking her braid out of sight and mentally calculating how much longer until she could undo the plait. The male was still making his way through the throng of bodies, and others were keeping pace with him on the edges of the crowd. It was almost as if they were?—
Fucking Temural.
She silently cursed the god of the wild and untamed as the male she’d stabbed climbed the wooden steps to the platform, pulling back his hood before unclasping the cloak and handing it to a waiting guard. His shoulder-length silver hair seemed to shimmer in the light of the torches that stood at the four corners. Tall and broad, white skin, and wearing all black, silver irises locked onto her across the crowd as he rolled back the sleeve of his tunic. First the left arm, then the right, a stream of red steadily sliding across his flesh.
The godsdamn king of Avonleya.
What had he been doing out in the crowd of people anyway? Without guards at his sides? Out here blending in with everyone else?
