Every possible response left Lora’s brain. “I don’t know what to say.” Part of her wanted to say she would help, knowing she most likely owed them her life. At the very least, she could lend them her phone. But it was her only connection to her world. And the fae never used phones, neither did the humans here. Would they understand how it worked as well as Lora did? Was there another reason Jaspen thought they needed her, someone who looked enough fae and wouldn’t attract attention?
Elyssa’s hazel eyes sparked hopefully in the yellow light of the oil lamp. “Just sleep on it, will you?”
“I will.”
“Grand. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s try tracking that bastard fae, shall we? And then I can show you to the showers. Not that this isn’t a look, but I think you could use it,” Elyssa said as she gestured at Lora’s dirty clothes.
Her grin eased the tension and Lora couldn’t help but laugh as she tried to smooth down her hair and her fingers got caught in a massive knot.
“I think you might be right,” Lora replied. Maybe she was right about a lot of things.
Chapter38
Amira
“I want you to pose for me. I need to finish your portrait,” Varsha said and without waiting for a reply, she grabbed Amira’s hand and led her out of the hallway. They ran through different corridors until they stopped in front of a cobalt blue door decorated with orchids. Varsha pushed it open.
“Welcome to my humble studio,” she said as she let go of Amira’s hand.
Amira stepped inside the room bathed in sunlight. The messy appearance of the studio only lent to its charm. Pots of paints and canvases of all sizes were scattered everywhere. A few pieces were displayed on the walls. Most of them were official portraits of fae from the Turosian court, but a few smaller ones were more abstract. Amira couldn’t help but shudder. It looked as if Varsha had painted her nightmares.
In an attempt to banish her dark thoughts, Amira looked at the easel in the centre of the room. On it stood her almost finished engagement portrait. The colours were so vivid that Amira was sure that Varsha had managed to put pure sunshine inside the painting. When she looked deep into her painted eyes, she could now see a glimmer of hope she didn’t know was still in her.
“What do you think, princess?” Varsha was standing next to her, whispering the question in her ear.
“You seem to see things that I’m not even sure I still see in myself.”
“It is easy to get your heart clouded by your mind. Thoughts are only the burst of an emotion. Your true nature lies in your heart and in your long-lasting actions,” Varsha said, catching her gaze. “You have a brave, selfless soul, Amira. Don’t let them take that away from you.”
“I’ll try,” Amira said, not very sure of how long she could keep it up.
“Good,” Varsha said with a smile. She gently squeezed Amira’s arm.
Amira looked away from her own painted eyes and pointed at another painting. “Why did you paint that?”
Varsha followed her line of sight. Clashing prussian blue and burgundy red created shadowy figures on the canvas. “It’s a feeling that I have here—in this palace, in this kingdom. There is something wicked around us, I’ve always felt it. Do you know that some fae just disappear in Turosian?” Varsha caressed the painting with her finger. “One day they’re with their family and the next, they’re completely gone.”
Amira had never heard of any disappearances. “And the king doesn’t do anything about it?”
Varsha shrugged. “He’s never acknowledged it. It’s never members of the court who disappear, so why would it matter to fae who are living in a palace? People talk though. Not the court, but fae outside these walls.”
Amira could hear a hint of despair in Varsha’s low voice. Without thinking, she squeezed the painter’s shoulder. Varsha smiled at her and put the painting back.
“What were you trying to find in Karwyn’s room anyway?” Varsha asked.
Amira hesitated, then carefully replied, “Nothing, really. I was just intrigued about Karwyn’s mother.”
“The late queen has always been a mystery. I wasn’t alive back then, but my father told me that Harten Adelway brought her to the palace one day with no explanation. No one dared ask questions. Harten was in no way the Dark King, but he was still terrifying. Karwyn definitely doesn’t measure up and I think that’s what’s eating at him.”
Amira furrowed her brows. If what Varsha was saying was true, Karwyn was living in both his father’s and brother’s shadow.
“So are you ready to pose?” Varsha’s question brought Amira back into the moment. She nodded absently.
Amira kept thinking back on what Karwyn had said to Rhay in his room. The interim high king was worried about something. Could it explain his coldness towards her? She had to find out more.
* * *
Amira had spent the rest of the afternoon with Varsha, posing and looking at her paintings before she returned to her rooms.
