"Beautiful," I murmur to myself.
Landon scoffs. "Beautiful?"
I'm caught off guard by the edge in his voice.
"That's probably not how they really look," he says, his gaze sweeping across the ballroom. "Masks on top of masks."
I blink, surprised. "It's all glamour?"
He nods and lets out a breath. "Everything is just an illusion."
"What do you mean?" I ask carefully.
His hand tightens at my waist. "Sapphire eyes mean you're blessed by the moon. Red hair means you're touched by the dying season. We show the traits we like and hide the ones we hate."
This isn't distant observation. The bitterness in his voice speaks of something personal.
Superstitions are woven into the fabric of fae society. I've heard of some of the absurd ones even in my court. It is said that red-haired fae are considered more vulnerable to iron, making them weak and unreliable for battle.
Touched by the dying season.
The truth is that another royal bloodline challenged Eirik's father thousands of years ago. Therrin the traitor's line was infamous for having red hair. After they lost, the myth was sown and watered until it became truth. Perhaps that is why Landon's hair is dark now instead of the hint of red I caught while he was emerging from his bath.
"I think red hair is beautiful," I mutter quietly.
Landon pauses to look at me. Something shifts in his expression. Then he twirls me gently. "Where do you come from?"
The question makes me swallow against a dry throat. "Far."
His gaze traces the edges of my mask. "That's exquisite craftsmanship. Perhaps the eastern courts?"
Fear crawls down my spine. I shake my head. My heart is beating so fast. He guides me through the next turn and I force myself to keep moving. I maintain the steps even as my mind races for an escape.
"You don't have to tell me. Forgive me, I was being intrusive. Force of habit," Landon says after a moment. "But are you here alone?"
I hesitate. "Why do you ask?"
"A noble lady without an escort or chaperone is rare."
"I can take care of myself."
His lips curve slightly. "I don't doubt that."
He spins me out and back. The music builds toward its crescendo and the sequence calls for the partners to come close. Landon pulls me in, his hand spread across my lower back. We freeze in the ending position as the final note hangs in the air. Our faces are close enough that I can see the dark flecks in his blue eyes through the mask. Neither of us moves.
Instead of releasing me, Landon keeps my hand.
"You look like you could use some air," he says with concern. "Allow me?"
He's guiding me toward the terrace before I can refuse. The crowd parts easily for the Shadow Fae. The revelry magic shifts around us as we cross the threshold. I feel it bow to Landon's presence. The passage doesn't return us to the ballroom. We step through the glass doors and the cool night air rushes over my skin.
"Better?" he asks, releasing my hand but staying close.
I nod, grateful for the space to breathe.
The terrace opens onto a breathtaking view of the fae realm spreading beneath us. Calanmai lights twinkle across Avalon like fallen stars scattered across the earth. They shine over the rivers that run with sparkling gold. I inhale another deep breath at the sight of the trees as they glimmer with bioluminescence under the eclipse-darkened sky.
Avalon is beautiful. But I need to leave. I need to find Blaire. We need to get out of here before anyone realizes what I've learned—
