I think we’ve successfully pulled the wool over everyone’s head, but I’m wrong.
21
ISLA
Aweek after the gala, Ksenia sweeps into the library, startling the slow-moving orbs in the fireplace and silencing the gleeful conversations.
As she scans the startled faces of the six female and the lone male Fae, a smirk tugs at her mouth. “Sorry I’m late. What did I miss?”
“You’re…back?” I don’t think Izolda means to make it sound like a question but that’s the way it comes out.
“It’s book club! My favorite evening at the castle.” Ksenia’s eyes hold the shine of inebriation, yet no alcoholic fumes drift off her as she drops onto the couch across from me, beside our only male member, Fritz.
The Faerie moistens his lips and inches away from Ksenia.
“You haven’t attended book club in over ten years, Ksen.” Izolda closes her book with a snap, then squares her shoulders.
“Like I said, my favorite evening at the castle.”
While Izolda’s Faerie friends exchange jittery glances, Naeva and I keep our focus steady on Ksenia.
“So, what edifying novel did we read this month?” Ksenia leans over and snatches the paperbound edition from Fritz’sbejeweled fingers, then flips through the pages quickly. “The Ice Maiden. Let me guess the storyline. A lowly human is saved from peril and a life of hardship by a dashing pure-blooded prince.” She thumbs through a few more pages. “Oh, no”—her lips quirk—“a general.” She hums. “Which one of you is now fantasizing about cornering Salom and having your dirty way with him?” Like canon barrels, her eyes lock on the pinkening points of Fritz’s ears. “Of courseyouare, Fritz. I’d say go for it, but Salom is such a brute, and you’re such a delicate?—”
“Are you done?” Izolda stands and strides over to her sister, tearing the book out of her fingers and handing it back to the sweet, flummoxed male. “I don’t know why you’ve come, Ksenia, but you’re making a fool of yourself. Please leave.”
Ksenia slaps a palm over her heart as she leans back in the scooped couch. “Are you throwing me out of book club?”
I’m tempted to intervene, but I’m uncertain how best to go about it. I doubt the sight of gleaming talons would frighten Ksenia. Still, I untuck my legs from underneath me and slip my socked feet onto the rug, ready to stand.
“Supper’s in two hours.” Though Izolda has her back to us, I’ve no doubt her lips are squashed for her speech is barely above a hiss. “You should go rest.”
“You’re such a nurturer. A shame you’ll never be able to have children. If that Crow truly cared about you, he’d let you screw a male capable of planting a babe inside your womb.”
When a tremor zips up Izolda’s spine, I murmur to Naeva to escort Izolda’s friends into the adjoining room. And then my cells disband and reknit on the opposite side of the glass firepit.
I touch Izolda’s clenched fist. “Naev needs help working the samovar in the game room.”
“Aw, how sweet areyou, Isla?” Ksenia’s tone is as sticky as treacle. “Standing by my sister as though she were your own. I suppose that big blue stone on your finger has given youdelusions of belonging to my family. Newsflash”—she holds her hand in front of her mouth as though to impart a secret—“you’re not, and never will be, a Korol.”
The sharp bite of Izolda’s palm against Ksenia’s cheek zings through the dense air. “Slight me all you want, butdo notattack Isla.”
Ksenia’s lips finally flatten. “Or what? She’ll call out to our brother and command him to gut me like he gutted Alyona?”
My shadows drift off my limbs and slick around Ksenia’s neck. Though tempted to draw blood, I refrain. However, I apply just enough pressure to blast her lashes high and carry her fingers to her neck.
As she wheezes, I say, “You know how savage and lawless we Crows are. We neither require permission nor help gutting those who grate our nerves.” When her cheeks redden, I finally recall my shadows.
“How dare you lay a finger on me!” she chokes out.
“Technically, it was a shadow, not a finger.”
Ksenia vibrates with rage. “You’ll regret that.”
“Better regrets than remorse, right?” I’m aware that I probably just secured her everlasting antipathy, but it’s not in my nature to stand back and watch unhinged people fling shit at others. Especially when those others are their own flesh and blood.
Ksenia finally gets to her feet. In her wedged boots, she stands several inches taller than I do, which, seeing the new smile kinking her lips, seems to please her to no end. “While I was away, helping a family who lost their two sons to a derailed train car, I got to thinking about my brother’s necklace, and how wonderful it would be if humans could carry something to protect them.”
Is she about to ask me to manufacture amulets for mortals? Because if that’s her angle, she probably should’ve thought twice before enraging her sister and disparaging me.
