"My name is Elle.”
The net remains calm, floating on the water.
“I am twenty-six years old.”
No disruptions in the water yet.
“I’m going to tell you a lie next.”
The net stays floating and intact. Interesting. Can the net tell truths that will be true in the future?
“My hair is black,” she says next. I feel a slight tugging in the back of my brain, the invisible net catching immediately.
I drop my focus, and my eyes fly open. “I felt it!”
She smiles broadly and says, “That was so easy for you.”
“So, your hair is red?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
“No,” she says deadpan.
My face falls when I don’t feel the lie, and she says, “You dropped your guard, so you didn’t catch it. Always keep it up, especially when you’re with the princes. Ask me another question, and I’m not going to lie, nor am I going to answer it truthfully so you can feel the difference.”
“Okay,” I say. “Do you think I’m going to be a good High Queen?”
She takes a second to answer. Her cheeks flush, but she says, “I think you’re a great female, but I think there’s a lot for you to learn.”
I tear my eyes from hers. Ouch.
I wasn’t expecting that response, and it feels like a blow. Elle has been my person since I arrived at the High Court. If she doesn’t trust me to be a good High Queen, why should anyone else?
She reaches for me but stops herself. “Mae, I’m sorry. I was just trying to get around the lie.”
I nod, forcing a smile on my face. “I know. I just wasn’t expecting it. I understand, and I know exactly what you mean.”
As much as it hurts, she’s right. I have a lot to learn.
I’m nowhere near ready to lead a kingdom. I swallow the thoughts as they rise, desperate to avoid a repeat of the other night, of when I ended up bleeding on the shower floor.
But the feelings linger throughout the night, clinging to my mind like a second skin.
When Elle leaves, I force myself to think of something else, anything else. Once again, my thoughts drift back to Marik, the gentle press of his lips against mine, the way the red wine stained his lips. That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked like the devil himself. Yet, he was the only one who could save me from myself.
Now, I can’t help but wonder… Is it possible my High King is right in front of me, disguised as a Prince of Hell?
Chapter 17
Pink petals fall from the ceiling, drifting down slowly on a light breeze before landing on the plush bed, each petal mesmerizing as it falls. One lands on my skin, sending whispers of pleasure as it brushes against me. The scent of floral permeates the air, followed by something earthy.
Above me, an uneven patch of moss is centered on the ceiling, its rough edges slowly spreading as it grows larger. The moss spreads outward in a slow, lazy trail toward the walls. A butterfly flits past my nose. I reach for it and watch its iridescent wings flutter as it settles on my fingertip. My gaze goes back to the moss, watching as it slowly spreads down the navy-blue walls, small mushrooms sprouting in its wake.
The moss parts, then branches into five separate, smaller trails before stopping abruptly. The ten small trails begin to wiggle. Like ten delicate fingers.
My breath catches in my throat as green, textured algae gives way to smooth, alabaster skin and a figure emerges from the wall.
She’s completely nude, save for the moss trailing down her slender figure, fully covering her breasts and center. With every step, her wavy, glossy umber hair bobs against her hips.
Her crystal-blue eyes find mine, and I’m utterly paralyzed by her otherworldly beauty.
