That distraction ended when we came to the grand staircase leading down to the throne room. The steps were large, and I had no desire to trip, so I looked back up and focused on Cyrus’s back as I descended. When we reached the landing, I looked around the hall filled with the swords of past kings, princes, and generals. No women, of course. Women weretechnicallyallowed to be warriors, but they were looked down upon and didn’t receive the same honor as their male counterparts.
Obviously.
I had to hold in my snort at the absolute absurdity. Injustice/absurdity—there was really no difference when it came to the rules these men put in place.
I followed Cyrus’s steps around the corner as we finally came to the throne room. My heart felt like it might beat right out of my chest. Its pounding had gotten so frantic that there was no way the Fae couldn’t hear it. The doors were opened for us and there they were, King Astraeus and Queen Stelara sat regally on their thrones. The clear inequality between their seats not at all lessening the intensity of the queen. Thankfully, she looked angrily at the woman standing beside the king, and not at me. Her preference for her son might actually benefit me in this situation. I prayed to the Old Gods that it might work in my favor when it came to whatever situation we were called in for.
Indeed, Princess Daneiris seemed to be on the receiving end of her mother’s wrath today. She stood beside the king’s throne, just as Priscilla warned me. A smile graced her face that surely spelled someone’s doom. She was clearly attempting to look innocent and sweet, but the malicious smirk that kept creeping upon her lips gave her away.
I sank to my knees before the royals, hating every moment of my subservience.
“Father. Mother.” Cyrus offered as he looked up at his parents. I rose behind him—staying back the standard three steps required for propriety. “Sister.” He ground out. Cyrus recognized that something was clearly afoot, and Princess Daneiris seemed to be at the heart of it.
“Cyrus. During the last Placement, you requested the human behind you be placed into your service. I obliged, as I saw no issue with this.” King Astraeus stated, his face blank of any emotion. Cyrus didn’t seem concerned—not to other’s eyes, but I knew the slight stiffening of his posture meant otherwise. “However, I’ve received some worrying reports from your siblings. They are concerned about your attachment to your slave.” The king’s booming voice echoed around me, and I flinched as I realized this was why I was called to attend with Cyrus.
Cyrus went stock still. I could practically feel the rage seeping out of his pores. This could be an opportunity to get away from him but—the danger you know is always better than danger unknown. I noticed bruises and cuts on other humans, not to mention their haunted looks, when I went to visit their quarters. I wouldn’t soon forget their conditions—and as precarious as my situation was now, I had a certain power with Prince Cyrus that would not be guaranteed should I switch masters.
There were no good choices here. But I put aside my anger and focused on the next steps—on Cyrus and what he would do.
“My attachment? She is my slave, and I enjoy her talents. What is so wrong with that?” Cyrus’s voice came out sounding blasé enough even I might have believed him.
“Your sister tells me that you treat the slave more like an equal than someone in her position should be treated.” The king mused, a brow rising on that cold face. “That you evenintroduced her formally to Twyla and let her sit beside you during the conversation.” King Astraeus glared at his eldest son.
Of course. No wonder Twyla’s visit didn’t feel right, she was spying for her sister. I felt foolish for not recognizing it earlier. I was still so new to this, trying to wrap my head around Cyrus’s plots and spies and the rest of courtly politics. It felt like an impossible task, keeping up with all the members of the House Tynan and their moves in this game, but my life, my freedom, depended on it. I was determined to beat them at their own game.
Chapter 12
“
O
hreally?” Cyrus chuckled. Somehow, he managed to look amused, staring at his father without a bit of respect or contrition. “Little Twyla said that, did she?”
“Yes. She did. What do you have to say for yourself, Cyrus?” King Astraeus replied, barely containing his smile, his tell of how much he despised having Cyrus as his heir. “This behavior is certainly not suitable for the Crown Prince, the heir to my throne.”
“You’re absolutely right, Father. We must think of the crown’s reputation.” Princess Daneiris smiled sympathetically at her father. “Already, word is spreading of how Cyrus treats his slave as if she were Fae! Our reputation would be damaged severely should this spread any further. I think it would be best if you moved the girl into my service. A female serving among another group of females wouldn’t cause others to look twice.”
Daneiris turned to Cyrus and smirked viciously, clearly confident that she had out maneuvered Cyrus at this game. I had a sinking feeling she was right, and I was about to be traded to her. I thought of the scar on Priscilla’s arm and knew I wouldn’t last. If she whipped Priscilla for not doing her hair correctly, she could find any excuse for my work to be unacceptable. I could practically feel the air stir from the swing of the whip as she spoke. A premonition of what would come in her service.
“It’s funny you mention our reputation, dear sister.” Cyrus purred. I couldn’t see his face since I was still behind him, but I could imagine it quite clearly. The lightning in his eyes, the smirk growing on his face. That cocky arrogance that only ever faded in place of cold anger or desire.
But Cyrus didn’t address her request, one his father seemed inclined to agree with. I was truly the last concern for these people. A mortal among immortals, whose insignificant mortality was of little interest. This masquerade had nothing to do with me. We were here for the Fae to battle for control and power, to see who would emerge the winner in this game.
“My slave won’t be going anywhere.” Cyrus began, his voice as cool as ice and his bearing calm and collected. “You see, I discovered something much more damaging to our reputation should word get out. Daneiris here seems to think that she can grasp more power by pitting the two of you against one another.” Cyrus looked to his parents, who looked back at him with furrowed brows, glancing over to where the princess stood, stiffening at her elder brother’s words.
“And what exactly is that,Son?” King Astraeus ground out, his jaw ticking as his frustration bled through.
“It appears that she was planning to convince Mother that you fucked one of the queen’s ladies in waiting. Lady Asra, to be exact. We all know how you enjoy redheads, after all.” Cyrus chuckled, even as his mother’s hands curled around the armsof her throne, tightening on them with each word. Her eyes flashed. The nearly black orbs were haunting ordinarily, but now they looked down-right terrifying.
“What? I’d never do such a thing. Her ladies in waiting are off limits.” King Astraeus protested, eyes widening as he glanced over to his daughter. For her part, Princess Daneiris looked like an animal who suddenly realized they were caught in a trap.
“Oh, yes. Daneiris has planned it all out. I’m sure she would have made it very convincing, driving a wedge between you two, the court, and kingdom. After all, no one cares if the king fucks human slaves. But a Fae lady of the court? That would bescandalousadultery.”
Did these Fae not realize that fucking anyone who was not their partner was actually adultery? I shouldn’t be so astonished by the way the Fae spin reality to be how they want it. Slaves were fine for them to have sex with, not even counting as people in their minds—but another Fae was a line that couldn’t be crossed. I clenched my fists for a millisecond as an outlet for my frustration but forced my hands open and wiped them down my skirt, so I didn’t give myself away. Showing my feelings would be a disastrous idea now.
“And with Lady Asra?” Cyrus chuckled, and I felt vaguely sick at his amusement with this whole debacle. “Lord Oditi would turn from you for such a slight as you fucking his wife. One of your closest supporters, gone. The crack in the court, widened. It was a masterful plan, truly. It’s only a shame Daneiris isn’t better about hiding her machinations before she can put them into effect.”
Cyrus turned enough toward Princess Daneiris that I could see the smirk he sent her way.
