“My magic cannot stop you any more than it can stop me.” Right. Because he’d done something with it and the key. I pulled out the three items and handed the box to Bylur.
He squeezed my shoulder and took the box. “Don’t make me sit by myself for long.”
Brielle hadn’t stopped staring at me since my announcement. She grabbed my shoulders. “Auria. What kind of magic do you have?!”
I raised both my brows. “None. You know that as well as I do.” At least, none without Bylur, but I still didn’t know how to use his magic through the key.
She shook her head. “I have never seen Bylur claim to care about anything. Not even his precious journals. And he just put his feelings for you on parade for everyone!”
I glanced back at him, remembering how my whole body had trembled after a nightmare. “If that was a parade of feelings for him, he must think my emotions are out of control.”
“Is that what you did?” Brielle demanded. “Showed emotions?”
I shook my head. I had no idea what she was talking about, but I’d come down here for a reason. I shoved her ring in her hand, Orla’s bracelet in hers, and Dedalus’s cuff link in his. “I feel bad that I didn’t return these sooner. I hope you don’t hate me for it.”
Orla rolled her eyes. “It’s moments like this that remind me you’re human. Most fae would be proud to have got these away from us without our noticing.”
I swallowed a hiccup. I’d been so worried about this, but it was turning out fine. “Most?”
Dedalus turned his permanent glare from his sister to me. “I’m not impressed.”
I sighed. “Yeah. Bylur wasn’t thrilled either.”
Dearan laughed. “I feel left out. Why didn’t you steal anything from me?”
I folded my arms, still self-conscious, but definitely relaxing. “I’m trying to reform.”
Brielle elbowed her brother. “We’re getting sidetracked here. I think we need to focus on the fact thatBylur is both marriedandexpressing feelings in public.”
Dedalus nodded. “It is disconcerting.”
“Why?” I asked. “Surely lots of fae marry?”
“Yes,” the grumpy fae confirmed. “But Bylur has risen to power by being untouchable. Nobody has as much power as he does. His shadows can kill in an instant. Nothing disrupts his emotions. And he doesn’t tell people what he cares about. That would expose a weakness that could be targeted.”
“Oh.” I didn’t want to be a weakness that could destroy Bylur.
Orla poked her brother. “Dedalus worries too much. Most of us are thrilled to see him care about you.”
“Truly.” Brielle grinned at me. “The rest of us are just waiting for the day someone publicly announces they love us.”
Dedalus’s brows pinched together, but before I could wonder about it too much, something shifted behind me. I turned around to find Ephaltes drawing a shortsword in the middle of the dance floor.
Bylur stood up and walked to the edge of the stage while shadows flowed away from him, rushing to surround Ephaltes.
Ephaltes spread his arms to the side, one holding the sword. “Would you strike me down before I have the chance to speak?”
Bylur’s voice rumbled through the hall. “If that is what it takes to protect the people around you.”
Ephaltes shoved the sword back into its scabbard. “It was only to get your attention without shouting.”
The shadows flowed in a circle around Ephaltes, separating him from everyone else who backed toward the edges of the room. “You have my attention, and you are interrupting my party.”
“A party held on the heels of my cousin’s death!” Ephaltes’ shouts made a pathetic contrast to Bylur’s controlled volume. “We should be gathered to mourn, not celebrate.” Whispers surrounded me. If this bothered him so much, why didn’t he oppose the idea more in the meeting three nights earlier?
Bylur was unmoved, just as Dedalus had described. “Your cousin attacked my wife, but I did not prescribe her death. She died at the hands of her conspirator, as you already know.”
“And have you found this conspirator?” Ephaltes challenged. “Is there a murderer among us?”
