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I filled my lungs with a breath of confidence to face the fae on my own. I noticed Gaia now observed me from her throne. If I were to struggle tonight, I didn’t want her to witness it. My feet sank into the thick red rug as I headed outside before someone could speak to me, and I swallowed another deep breath. I followed it with a gulp of wine for good measure. My arms brushed many fae, but most watched me silently with looks I couldn’t discern.
A cheerful smile stretched beneath one of the fae’s red masks. “Is our wine to your liking, my Queen?” he asked in a kind tone.
I’d been holding my goblet like armor in front of me and I relaxed a bit. “It’s strong,” I said. Most of the wine I’d tasted came from Mother’s old cellar when Cal and I used to sneak in at night to steal a sip and talk.
“That it is.” He laughed, then turned to continue walking with me, keeping a polite distance and an eye on those around us. “I have wine finer than this at my home.” A silver cloak hung from his broad shoulders, and grey stubble adorned his cheeks. “I live on an island where water falls from all edges, and the streets are built of rivers. All the Mortal Queens have visited.”
Unprompted, my father’s voice in my head warned me. The strap of my shoe dug into my ankle as I inched away.
“I’d love to paint you,” the red-masked gentleman continued. “I’ve been painting my entire life, but the Mortal Queens are my favorite subjects.”
His tone was kind, but something about him scared me.
Talen’s advice to make friends combatted his advice to be on guard. There may be a way to tell if this man sought friendship or trickery. I tested him. “I adore painting as well. Perhaps we could paint together in the courtyard sometime.”
He spun a finger on the rim of his own cup. “It’ll be much more enjoyable at my home.”
The voice to be on guard won. I narrowed my eyes at his insistence. “What happens if I say yes? It’s a trick, no? What mischief are you up to?”
His chest fell. “A clever queen. Had you said yes and allowed me to paint you, a piece of you would have been trapped in my painting.”
My eyes bulged.
He shrugged. “You are welcome to come visit whenever you like, and I won’t paint you.”
All I could do was gape at him as he trotted away. The lyre music picked up as if congratulating me for not falling for the trick, but my shock was stronger than my pride.
“I need you,” I whispered to Cal, though he was in another realm now. “You’d excel here.” Father would too with his cunning mind. But Malcom . . . I’d be forever grateful that boys could never be chosen to reign.
My stomach rumbled and my attention traveled past the large doors and into the courtyard until it found a vast array of tables, platters of dishes centered around a skewered boar larger than myself.
“These blasted shoes.” I sent a silent apology to my tender feet. If anyone asked for a dance tonight, I’d have to decline. As long as my feet carried me to the food, I’d be content.
I almost stumbled, but a swift hand caught me. “Headed for the glazed cakes?” A gentleman slid his arm beneath mine. “A girl after my own heart.”
His grip relieved some of the stabbing pain in my feet, so I resisted the strong urge to recoil. “I’ve heard wonderous things about the cuisine here,” I said politely. “I’m excited to try it for myself.”
The man had golden hair to match his mask and a towering height that I dwarfed beneath. His steps shortened at my words, and those bronze eyes landed on me. “How is it that you heard things before you came here?”
I chided myself. Admitting my fascination with these beings wasn’t how I’d wanted to present myself. “We spoke of the fae realm sometimes. It was all speculation, of course, but the stories had been told enough that they were accepted as true.”
“Ah, I see.” He took a few quiet steps. A soothing feeling radiated off him like a hint of fresh air. The only time he touched me was loosely at my waist to slip behind me as we slid past another couple who watched us with hungry eyes. I gave them a little nod, and the fae removed his hand. “And how do we compare to the stories?”
I searched his collar for the pin of which House he belonged to but found none. Perhaps he served a king, instead. I treaded carefully. “Beyond what I’d hoped. If this food is good, then I’ll die happy.”
I pondered his grin. If he had motives, he’d yet to reveal them. But no one was without motives. My father’s words again. “So, you like food and you’re beautiful. Tell me more about my new queen.”
I sought something innocent to give him and tilted my head toward the sky. “I find I’m rather fond of the chariots here.”
He brightened. “I own the fastest chariot there is. Ride with me.”
We reached the nearest table, and I paused with my fingers on the tablecloth to inspect him, hoping instinct would tell me whether to trust him. A dash of freckles spread over his cheeks before disappearing under the silver mask. His eyes were pieces of a daytime sky, and his suit was like the beach outside my home, tan and smooth.
The offer hung in the air.
“What is the cost?”
A brow rose from under the mask, but his voice was light. “I didn’t think you’d ask. See how quickly our realm turns innocent girls into untrusting queens? The cost is simple—a visit to my home. Walk the streets with me, have dinner, spend a day there. I have a business deal coming, and it’d be good to be seen with the Mortal Queen.”
