A laugh. “Then why are we stationed beneath your brother’s balcony?”
The stone balcony that overlooks this courtyard.
“He’s out,” she snips. “Would you rather sit beneath my father’s, where we can feel his stale breath?”
“What of yours?”
“You know a lady cannot do that.”
“Ah, yes, and you are the finest of them all. Even with that mouth of yours.”
Wincing, I glance at Dominik’s glass balcony doors, which remain dark.You did say you enjoyed the faerie’s mouth. Now you can enjoy it almost every night.
Does the king truly dole out the same lines to fae females and faeries? Has three hundred years of flirting left the males of the Upper Court lazy even in their vileness?
“Careful now,” Kassandra tuts. “Talk like that won’t give our onlookers time to leave.”
“I see,” Maxian growls.
He grips her waist and hauls her sideways onto his lap. Her slipper flings off a foot, and she squeals in delight. I head for the hedge where the Illusion still shimmers. My fingers graze themirage, the image of the leaves rippling like a reflection on a pond.
I’m not sure what makes me look back. Perhaps it’s the sudden change in Kassandra’s demeanor, my genius fumbling to feel if she has fallen under Reign magic. Yet the plane hums pleasantly, consistently, around us. The king slides his hands through her silvery hair, his broad back to me as he cradles the fae in his arms. Kassandra’s head tilts, and Maxian claims her mouth.
Our eyes meet, her gaze glittering in the dark. She watches me as he kisses her. Indeed, she is flushed, but I know it wasn’t his doing. Like any king, he is merely taking credit for another’s work.
An unseen force shoves my shoulder, and I fall through the Illusion.
Chapter Twelve
I crash onto the stone floorof the cloister.
“What are you doing, Crest?” An Illusion guard peers down at me, a debt ring on each arm.
“Waiting on my mistress,” I say, climbing to my feet.
“I do not see her anymore.” He surveys my dirty clothes. “What has happened?”
“She’s with the king in the courtyards. Do you not feel his power?”
It’s a dangerous game, baiting a halfling guard. They can be understanding of those below them or eager to please those above. Yet the guard’s eyes go glassy, head leaning to one side as if listening.
“They sent me away,” I say.
He coughs, stepping back. “I understand.”
“Do you serve Lord Dominik directly?”
“As heir, he commands all of the guards. ’Tis tradition in the Illusion House.”
“Let your superiors know that the king courts Lady Kassandra.”
The guard’s face flames, but he nods, marching off. Leaning against a column, I stare out at the darkened gardens, now silver-lined in the moonlight.
A shadow flickers to my left.
I jerk back, hissing.
“It is only me,” a voice says. A hooded figure emerges from an arch, passing in front of the moon. Death looms before me, shadows skittering away from his robes like spiders.
