Page 6
I roll my eyes but say nothing. He’s not wrong, but I still hate it. Playing games isn’t a good use of our time here, and we’re going to be stuck sparring with these fuckers for much longer than I’d prefer.
As Tier opens the doors, Revelin strides in, hips full of swagger and spine straight with confidence that can’t be faked. He’s famous and loved for multiple reasons, plus he grew up in this nonsense. Nothing they’re doing is phasing him in the slightest.
Servants appear like wraiths from the walls—silent, elegant, and certainly enchanted. A tall, dark Fae hands Dezi a scroll. Another offers us fluted glasses of something glowing and probably cursed. Revelin takes one, but when the server moves away, Tier surreptitiously snatches it from the prince to get rid of. We’re definitely not ready to accept random food or drink from these people at this point.
“These are… orders,” Dezi says as he skims the scroll. “Formal fittings scheduled at sun-up. There's a concert hall walkthrough at mid-day. An audience with the royal court at tea time. Formal dinner at moonrise.”
“Busy day tomorrow,” Tiernan mutters. “Wonder why they want to keep us moving the whole time?”
“Probably to hide shit,” I snap. “Nothing about this feels like they want us exploring their lands.”
Revelin leans into me, his expression worried. “Do you think they will prevent us from leaving the castle? That’s gonna put a crimp in the plans for finding the next piece of the puzzle.”
“No,” I say bluntly. “We’ll find a way to do what we need to even if it involves sneaking out. We’re here for at least three or four days based on the original schedule. If they try to push us out sooner, we’ll know I’m right about hiding things.”
When the music stops, I look up, blinking when I see that the thrones are empty. The royals are no longer sitting in their places and there’s a definite chill in the air. I look to Dezi, then Rev, who both seem perplexed by the sudden change in atmosphere.
“Did we offend someone?” I mutter as I turn to look at Tiernan. He frowns, shrugging helplessly, and I roll my eyes toward the starry ceiling.
I’m going to lose my mind in the realm of constant mood changes; I swear to fuck.
“Ahem.”
We all whirl around to see a short, well-dressed goblin standing behind us. My eyes narrow as I realized he managed to sneak up on us—something that is not easy to do.
“Who the hell are you and where did everyone go?” I ask angrily. My patience for this theater is waning quickly.
“My name is Flitwick, and I will be your personal valet for your stay in the Midnight Court. I apologize for the abrupt departure of your most gracious hosts, but a situation of grave importance has arisen within the kingdom. For their safety, the innermost courtiers and the royal family are now in seclusion. Our council is meeting in their safest locations to handle the issue.”
That’s not suspicious at all—what the fuck happened that they shoved everyone into the Fae version of panic rooms?
“If you will follow me, I have been asked to show you to your suite and have your personal staff bring you food and refreshments there. The King, Queen, and their family wish for you to be comfortable and secure while this incident is investigated.”
Tiernan eyes the goblin, but finally nods his head. “Fine. Take us to our room and I will make sure it meets my standards for security. Notify your gatekeepers at the border and the palace entry that I am sending for more staff for the Prince. They will have identification and should be allowed in immediately.”
“Yes, sir.” Flitwick salutes my leopard, then spins on his heel to lead us out of the throne room and up one of the magical staircases.
I don’t like this one bit, and we need to find out what happened stat.
We’re led to our suites through a series of hallways that defy physics and patience. Eventually, we’re deposited in a tower that overlooks the silvery gardens. The room is a palace on its own, draped in midnight blues and starlight silks, but it feels less like a reward and more like a beautifully decorated cage.
The moment the door shuts, I let my mask drop.
My knees hit the edge of the bed, and I sit before I drop from tension in my muscles. The book from Harvest is safe in my bag, and I don’t know why, but I pull it out like it’s a lifeline. The pages flicker with charm-bound ink, revealing new lines we haven’t seen before. Faerie likes to play games with time and perception, and apparently so does this book.
“What do you want me to know?” I murmur, running my fingers down a line of script that wasn’t there yesterday. A symbol glows faintly under my touch—a crescent moon within a crown.
Well, that can’t be a coincidence.
“Feray is a queen and a wolf shifter now.” Something tugs at the back of my mind—almost like a memory, but it’s just out of reach. I open my senses enough to feel the pulse of magic in the room around me.
It hums with old magic; it’s not hostile, but not exactly friendly either. I feel like it’s waiting to see what I’ll do. I flip back to the front of the book. The dedication page is still blank, but now the blankness feels intentional. The pages without entries felt frustrating before and it strikes me that they may be concealed rather than unused. Objects have power and sometimes sentience depending on who enchanted them, so this damn thing may only show us what we’ve earned or some shit.
I glance toward the arched windows where the moonlight curls across the floor like spilled ink.
There’s power in this tome, and something in Midnight wants to help me figure it out. It’s calling to me like the howls of Feray’s pack must have called to her. Why, I don’t know, but magic is mysterious and whimsical at times.
“Sassy? Are you okay? What are you doing with that damn book?”
