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I inhale sharply, trying to clear my head, and rip my eyes away from my guard. “I will go meet the king, but Levi goes with me.”
The silver-haired guard lifts a finely manicured eyebrow above his glowing eyes, seeming bored again. He must get a rise out of torturing humans in the dream world. “Very well.”
At the far end of the city, we face another cavern, its entrance covered in a material that moves like liquid filled with a sparkling life of its own. The guard holds up a palm, and it parts for us as we cross the threshold.
When I reach a finger to touch it, Levi snatches it away.
“Touch nothing,” he hisses.
Within the chamber, an elaborate dining table is set with piles of food, making my stomach grumble. Between the candelabras are piles of meats, fruits, breads, and cheeses. Towering chocolate cakes, strawberry cheesecake, and vanilla pudding make my sweet tooth cry out. These are some of my favorite foods I haven’t tasted since I was in Avren.
“He’s playing with you,” Levi whispers in my ear just before the guard hits him on the side of the head with his spear, knocking him to the ground.
I want to go to him but don’t have a chance as King Cirrus enters the room. He’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, with long, flowing white hair and an almost equally pale skin. And he has the most perfect male face I’ve ever seen—almond-shaped eyes, chiseled jawline, prominent brow. Despite all the white, he’s shrouded in darkness and draped in black robes that move as if they have a life of their own. His piercing green eyes stare at me, not glowing like the others. “Welcome to Frostacre, Maribel Windsong. I’m glad you finally accepted my invitation. I’ve been dying to meet you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Asmall creature wearing a blue pointed hat pulls out the king’s chair at the head of the table. Never in my life have I witnessed something so graceful and mesmerizing. He makes me forget about Levi lying on the ground near my feet. I pinch my arm to tear my attention away from Cirrus and back to my friend. A welt about the size of a walnut protrudes from his forehead.
Levi rises to his elbows and takes my hand so I can help him to his feet. If a guard dares to hit him again, I’ll drive my iron dagger into his heart.
“Are you ok?” I ask as we walk to the table.
He keeps his lips pressed together and nods. The fae in Frostacre scare him senseless, but I don’t want to do anything to make things worse for him.
Cirrus holds an open palm toward the chair to his right. “Come sit beside me, Maribel. I’ve never had a savior in my court before, and the mere thought of it intrigues me.”
The pointy-hat creature pulls out my chair, and I sit, feeling the heady magic pushing at me from all sides. Levi takes my hand beneath the table and squeezes, as if trying to keep me tied to reality.
A fae woman with hair as white as Cirrus’s and dressed in a gossamer dress fills the king’s goblet with blood red wine. She seems to float over to me, filling my cup and then Levi’s before leaving the room.
“Tell me what it’s like.” Cirrus folds his long fingers together as he leans his elbows on the table, pitching closer, as if I’m the most fascinating creature he’s encountered. “The strange juxtaposition between playing the role of the savior of the wilderness and growing up in Avren.”
As much as I don’t want to play into any of his traps, this is my job. I need to give the others time. “I find it exhausting. To grow up in a pampered world where I’m taught to sew and to live the life of an influential society woman only for the Council to thrust me into a world of unforgiving conditions. It’s enough to make anyone give up. And then to find out you’re a prophesied savior, foretold to bring destruction upon my friends and neighbors, well, honestly, it makes my head spin.”
“I see.” A flash of light crosses through his eyes as he sets his chin on his folded hands. “What if I told you I can take all this pressure away—so you never worry again about which dagger you need to kill which creature?”
“Then I’d tell you I’d be forever in your debt.” Our conversation is getting too close to the king placing me in a cage and keeping me as his personal pet. “Tell me more about what it’s like living in Frostacre.”
The king slides his hand the short distance over the corner of the table and takes my free hand in his, sending icy chills through my veins. I swallow back the bile as Levi continues to caress my right hand to keep me sane.
“It’s an absolute dream. Imagine dinner spreads like this every night. Grand balls where the most handsome fae fight for the chance to seduce you. Midnight swims in the underground hot springs. And your own private suite, complete with a canopy bed and satin sheets.” His fingers trail along my skin, sending images of his descriptions flickering through my mind.
“And your queen? What is she like?” I don’t remember Levi ever mentioning a queen, but if there is one, and it keeps Cirrus talking, I want to know.
“Insufferable.” The king’s lips fall as if I’ve brought up a sore subject. “Had to lock her away in the deepest part of the dungeon after she took issue over my affairs. Can’t have a queen who won’t let me have a little fun. Might let her out in another hundred years.”
“How did you fall in love?” It’s personal, but it makes me think of Bastian creeping through the magic-filled tunnels, searching for the prophecy. If I focus on my reality, I might make it through this.
“Love?” The king appears as if he might burst out laughing. “Maybe a bit of lust at first, but the purpose of our marriage is to link two full-blooded families. I didn’t marry for love.” His fingers slide along my hand to my wrist and then to my forearm as if he’s admiring my skin. “What about you? Are you in love?”
I grip Levi’s hand tighter. As much as I want to learn about my connection with Bastian, I want to protect him. The fae don’t tell lies, but diversion using a good story might work. “There was a boy in Avren who captured my attention. More of an obsession than love. How far could we take our heated encounters without the Council knowing?”
“And what became of this boy?” The king stops his slow crawl up my sleeve to listen to my response. I don’t dare shake my arm free, knowing Cirrus’s power.
“He’s a soldier in the Avren guard. I guess he’s my enemy.” The thought of it leaves a hollowness in the pit of my stomach. Flynn did nothing to hurt me. He wanted to bring me back into the city.
“I can make you forget about him.” The king grips my elbow, massaging it and filling me with a betraying need. I close my eyes and inhale the magic surrounding me. My thoughts wander to an enormous bed covered in mounds of pillows. Images of Cirrus above me, moaning my name, make me squeeze my legs together. Above him is a frame containing a parchment with ancient script. The prophecy? If I accept his invitation, maybe I can get it myself and use my locket to get back. That is, if I’m strong enough to resist the king of the Unseelie Court.
