Page 13 of How to Marry a Winged King

I’d amused him again. It belatedly occurred to me that I should probably have praised his horns for their size and prowess, but it was too late now, so I asked him to tell me more about the Golden Hall instead.

Subject successfully changed, I investigated a plate of tiny savoury pikelets topped with swirls of soft cheese.

“Is it not my turn to ask you questions, according to the rules of polite conversation?” he asked just as I was mid-bite.

I swallowed hastily. The brief taste brought my appetite roaring to life, and I eyed the rest of the pikelets. “It would be much more polite to let me eat all of these first.”

He smiled, dark eyes twinkling. It was an extremely charming look, and I was fairly sure he knew that. It didn’t stop my heart from giving an extra-hard thump.

“I see,” he said solemnly. “Far be it from me to be impolite, then.”

He told me about the labyrinth of tunnels that riddled the palace complex, and how he’d learnt to fly by jumping off the old ruins hidden between gnarled trees. I could picture him, a serious child, determined not to display any skill publicly until he was sure he’d perfected it. It sounded lonely, growing up roaming these halls with an unbridgeable distance between him and any other playmates.

It also sounded oddly familiar, to be alone even when surrounded by others.

Pikelets now consumed, I found myself telling him of my stepsisters. He listened with his head tilted to one side, as if I were the most fascinating person he’d ever met, his eyes softly curious, and more spilled out than I intended. How it felt to be part but not-part of a family, to feel never quite good enough, to ache to bridge the distance.

I cut myself off belatedly before I revealed any more. Tāwhiri had his mother’s same dangerous gift for listening, I thought warily.

“I’m sure you’d be happy with either of my sisters,” I added out of a misplaced sense of fairness. “Rose would marry you for your library in a heartbeat, and Acantha would love being a queen. She’d be good at it too; she’s always had the sort of confidence you need to carry people along with you. I imagine that’s useful for queen-ing.”

Had I gone mad? Why would I try to talk him out of this?

He made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat, and his liquid gaze took on an intensity that made my heart race. I blushed and then remembered the illusion. He was gazing hungrily at a woman who didn’t exist. All my warm, shivery feelings sucked away into the cold night.

“And you? Would you like being a queen?” he asked.

I looked down at my hands and thought of the court’s envious gaze upon me. Yes, said a part of me I wasn’t sure what to make of. It wasn’t as if I had Acantha’s strength of character, or the kind of confidence that could sway crowds, even if I had secretly revelled in that brief moment of power on the dance floor. But it hadn’t been real, had it? How would the court have reacted if I hadn’t been under an illusion?

“I don’t think I would know how,” I said eventually.

“Someone told me most people get better at things with practice.”

I laughed. “Well, you are getting better at conversation.”

He grinned. “Thank you.” There was that look in his eyes again that made my heart flutter traitorously.

I turned away from it, flustered and uncertain. “What’s this telescope about?” I waved at it.

“A telescope is a device that allows one to look at things that are far away. Such as stars.” His expression remained deadpan, but there was a spark of mischief in it. Oh, that wasn’t fair. He was teasing me.

I gave him a quelling look. “Yes, I know. That was me subtly asking if you were planning to do something with it tonight.”

He got to his feet and held out a hand. Cautiously, I took it, and he pulled me up. There was a brief moment where our bodies almost pressed together.

Almost.

He stepped back quickly, ducking his head. “Ah. I’ve already positioned it, so this shouldn’t take long—” He bent and fiddled with the instrument. “There. The Blue Sister is rising.” He gestured for me to step closer.

The telescope was a lovely thing, dark wood and gleaming brass. I bent and gasped at the image, immediately lifting my head to check what I’d seen against the sky. What appeared to the naked eye as a mere pale blue dot was revealed as a detailed disc in the telescope.

“I didn’t think I would be able to see so much,” I said in wonder. “Are those her moons?”

“Yes,” he said. “You can see all three of her children tonight. Sometimes you can see Evidita as well, but he is absent this evening. I … did not pick very romantic subjects, did I?”

Evidita, the unfaithful husband, leaving his wife and children to seek affairs with other divines.

I smiled at him. “If you’d picked the Undying Lovers from the sky, I think it would have been too much on top of all this.” I gestured at the midnight picnic and then bent once more to the telescope to escape the heat in Tāwhiri’s gaze.