“Yes, how’d you know?”
She leans in and whispers, “Because I never heard that Feylin was dating anyone, so I assume you only recently met.”
“That’s right.”
Thank goodness she doesn’t ask for details about our relationship. It’s all I can do to get my bearings.
“See those fae dressed in black?”
On my left stand a small group of fae wearing midnight-colored clothes. The men wear dark suits, the women, regal satin gowns. They’re decked out in jewels, the women’s necks dripping in diamonds. Many of the men and women have white hair and dark skin like Zandra.
“That’s the Eastern Court,” she explains. “It’s my court. They all look very serious, don’t they?”
They do. Most of their mouths are set in firm lines.
“Hey, y’all,” I say as we pass.
They give snobby nods in reply.
“It’s amazing I come from them,” she admits. “And those fae over there are from the Southern Court.”
My gaze skips to where she’s nodding at people dressed in lighter clothes—linen the color of the ocean. The points of their ears are more pronounced, the tips slanting back as if to help them swim through water faster.
“They’re fairly laid back for fae,” Zandra says. “And if you’re looking to make friends, you’ll find good ones among them.” She points to the right. “Over there you have the Western and Northern Courts. Can you tell which is which?”
“The ones in furs are from the north?”
“You’re very good at this game,” she teases genuinely. “I’m going to like you.”
The Northern Court of fae are decked out in white fur that lines their dresses and the lapels of the men’s suits. They’re a pale people with eyes that remind me of ice chips.
“Aren’t they hot in all that fur?”
“Nah. Temperature doesn’t affect us like it does to you and humans.”
The western fae are dressed in flowing gowns with low necklines and suits with bow ties. Their skin is sun-kissed, and they regard me with bows but no smiles.
The northern bow as well. Still no smiles.
“They don’t play well together,” Zandra says after we pass.
“The Northern and Western Courts?”
“All of them,” she confides. “It’s only because of Feylin that we tolerate one another.”
A servant carrying a tray of champagne approaches, and Zandra unlinks her arm from mine and takes two glasses, handing me one.
I sip and bubbles pop against my upper lip. “How’s it because of Feylin that the courts get along?”
Her gaze bounces from group to group. “When the veil fell, no one knew what to do. But Feylin said that he’d make his court available to humans in order to keep everyone else safe. He’d be our ambassador to their world.”
“So he volunteered himself.”
She laughs lightly. “Well as king it’s not exactly volunteering, is it? Even if hewasthe sacrificial lamb, so to speak.”
Feylin kept them safe. He did so selflessly, without anyone having to ask. My heart softens a bit, knowing that about him.
Yet as soon as it softens, I recall how he came to my rescue last night for his own benefit—to get the lords off his back, as he had said.
