The shift in Eli’s tone has my head snapping up. Softer than before, though he’s always been somewhat gentle. Yet the Head of Healing is watching Lila, his brows knit in concern.
“Of course!” She smiles wider. “It was nice to be outside.”
“The game was crude. I apologize.” Eli glances away from us, as if embarrassed. I try to hide my surprise, but Lila does not falter.
“No need. Now, what would you like to drink? We have nonliquored options.”
“Whatever is available.”
The doors slam open on a gust of icy wind. Dominik prowls inside, beady eyes pinning me in place, and his lips curl into a lupine grin. In an instant, the plane swells toward him, sinking onto his skin to store for later. I curtsy.
“Lower.”
Phantom hands shove down my shoulders. My curtsy deepens, my legs straining.
Pointy boots. I stare at his frilly, pointy boots, lacquered like the floors.
“Avery,” Eli interjects. I look up as Lila hands Eli a drink, her expression worried. He frowns, eyes cutting to Dominik. “You may stand.”
The hands disappear, and I almost stumble with the sudden lack of pressure. “What can I get you this evening, Lord Dominik?” I ask, straightening.
“Where is my darling sister?” He bares his teeth in a passable smile.
“Apparently, she doesn’t feel well,” Eli says. “I’m sending over a tonic.”
“No need, Eli. The faerie is misinformed.”
I bite my lip, grasping for a reply that will keep Kassandra safe but keep my head on my shoulders, too. Eli beats me to it.
“Can’t hurt,” he says.
“She’s fine,” Dominik snaps.
“Are you a Healer?”
The Heir of Illusion turns, facing the Head of Healing. “What did you just say?”
But the other fae remains unruffled, calm. “I said, are you a Healer? I think not. Besides, Kassandra seems to suffer many head pains, so having an extra tonic on hand can’t hurt.”
“Then you do not know my sister. She’s the type to swallow the whole vial for an afternoon of attention.”
“Then I’ll give her attention,” Eli answers. “Anyone who harms themself still needs help.”
The pair watch each other, tense, the plane pitching and rolling, warming and cooling. I clench my jaw to keep nausea at bay and, in the silence, scrape together my courage.
“Would you like a strong drink, Lord Dominik?” I ask.
“Fine.”
I’m tempted to spit in his cup. Lila joins me at the bar cart.
“What was that about?” she whispers. I shake my head, and she says, “I can deliver drinks if you’d like to gather the small bites from the Mouth. They won’t sit until the king is here, but they’ll snack.”
She’s giving me a way out. My eyes fall to the lavender drink.
“For the king?” I ask.
She nods. “I’ll add ice when he arrives.”
