As we emerged from the thick, we came face to face with one of the Sightkeepers. “Issaraeth,” he snapped, like he had any authority over my mate.
“Did my sister send you?” Vaeron asked, his tone even but edged with steel.
The male’s attention flicked between us. “Aye. Why are you out here with our most powerful Seer?”
My mate cocked his head in a move that was entirely too predatory. “You did hear of the passing of another this morning, did you not?” he asked, voice dangerously close to a purr. “She wanted some air after her session with the healer.”
“It’s not safe,” he stated. “Besides, that is why they have their own private garden.” His brows pinched as his attention slid to the way Vaeron touched me.
A low, sinister laugh rumbled in Vaeron’s chest. “Maybe for someone with your power. But me? I’d like to see someone try. It would be far more entertaining than pummeling your face every day and escorting a limping female to and from her appointment.”
The male’s nostrils flared. “Get back inside before I have to fetch the Korona. She’d be most interested to see who you were in the gardens with. Curious that she never actually tasked you with the assignment, even after you told us she did.”
My heart beat against my ribs. Vaeron had mentioned his sister’s suspicions. And now that we were seen out here together, that someone could run to her with pure evidence? I flicked my attention up to my mate, hoping my face wasn’t betraying my fear.
Vaeron tutted, then reached out and patted the Sightkeeper’s cheek. The gesture dripped condescension, perfectly calculated and terrifyingly smooth. “You don’t give orders to me. But I have other matters to attend to anyway. Plus, our Seer has put out far too much effort already today. She needs her strength for tomorrow.”
Without waiting for a response, he steered me on, leaving the male standing in the garden. As we reentered the palace, my mind spun with Vaeron’s change in demeanor. I’d never seen that side of him before…
“I told you before that the Angel court is not a place for those who forget their position. It is also not a place for those who will not do anything to survive. Manipulation and posturing are merely part of the game.”
Maybe I’d been wrong to resist him so fiercely. The longer I lingered in his orbit, the more I remembered what I was.
Not something to be caged. Not a weapon to be wielded.
But a storm, powerful enough to raze the realm.
If I so chose.
44
Maelsar lounged behind me, dressed in his finest courtly attire and grinning like he didn’t remember we were flying into thunderclouds. Meanwhile, I wrestled with the diamond cuffs on my sleeves that felt more like shackles. The ice-blue cape secured at my collarbone whispered against the ground, a warning siren I wished I could heed.
I rolled my shoulders, the high collar of the cape smacking the side of my neck. Irritation had my teeth on edge. I was dressed for a celebration I didn’t want, for a union I couldn’t stomach, to play a part in a theater of lies and deceit.
“Relax, Vaeron.” Maelsar rose, approaching me. He clapped his hands, hard, on my shoulders. “We’re going to have fun tonight.”
Fun. While I danced with the female I was supposed to wed and my mate was a lamb entering a wolf’s den.
I scoffed and shrugged him off. “Maybe you will.”
“Being the second son has its perks,” he commented, fetching his own cape and clasping it in place with two aquamarines. The rest of his outfit was a stark white, in direct contrast to my black.
“Until your brother dies on the front,” I pointed out.
His smile slipped. “Don’t curse me with that fate.”
“I hope you pray to the Goddess every night that it does not,” I quipped, body-checking him as I strode to my chamber’s exit.
He trotted to catch up with me in the hall. “I will now that I know you’re going to be telling Her otherwise.”
I snorted a laugh. Maelsar bumped his shoulder into mine, scowling. That only made my grin widen.
Until the dark fog wrapping around me returned, chest aching from everything I had to keep in.
Haughty voices ricocheted off polished marble as we approached the ballroom that ringed the base of the mighty tree in the heart of Thalvireth. We were fashionably late by design. I wanted the nobles sufficiently tipsy before their hungry stares scrutinized me for any sign of weakness.
It wasn’t merely a ball; it was a gilded execution stage, any misstep amplified for the entire court to see.
