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“Excuse me?” I want to be offended, but she’s so matter of fact about everything, I know there’s no malice behind it.
“You’re human. You have no powers—except your strange little metal tricks. Ruskin would never be in danger from you.”
I feel a little offended. If I really put my mind to it, I’m sure I could find some kind of weapon I could use against him. Something he wouldn’t see coming, at least long enough for me to get a good blow in. There’s strength in being underestimated. But on the whole, I know that she’s right. The only thing I’ve heard that would give me a genuine advantage would be finding out his true name.
I haven’t forgotten my plan, bubbling under the surface of everything that’s happened in the last few weeks. I want to help Ruskin, and this realm, but I also want my freedom. My father. My home. My life, to be lived on my terms. Right now, everything feels out of my control, and that scares me. It would be too easy for something to go wrong and for me to have no exit strategy. That’s not a gamble I want to take.
I’m not done clearing before a message arrives, delivered by Kaline again. This time its Ruskin inviting me to dinner, a strangely formal note “cordially requesting my attendance.” I laugh as I read it, imagining Ruskin coming up with the most floral language possible to ask me to do what we’ve done more than once since I arrived—sit down and eat together. Only this time, it sounds like we’ll be alone. My skin warms at the thought.
Halima grunts, unimpressed when I tell her what the message says.
“Just don’t expect me to help you pick out an outfit,” she says. “I’m not Destan, you know.”
“And yet I just keep getting you two mixed up,” I say with a smile.
I don’t need Destan for the outfit advice, thankfully, because wonderful, thoughtful Kaline lays something out for me. I don’t know where these dresses are coming from, but it’s a thing of beauty. Not quite so modest as my usual daywear around the palace, with square necklines and long sleeves, but nowhere near as revealing as the dress from the harvest moon. Part of me wonders what would happen if I wore that again. Would we get to the meal? Or would Ruskin devour me before the food even arrived? It’s not an unpleasant thought.
I’m intrigued to know what’s really behind this dinner invitation, though, so I stick to the dress chosen for me. As the invitation requested, I head to the bottom of a tall, winding staircase near Ruskin’s quarters and wait there, feeling a little foolish all of a sudden, dressed up and alone.
“You’re late,” I say when Ruskin appears from the shadows in his usual stealthy manner.
“Not at all. I arrived a few minutes before you did; I’ve just been admiring the view.”
I scoff, which isn’t very ladylike, but I feel like he’s using a line on me. He smiles at his own audacity and offers me his arm.
“What’s all this about anyway?” I ask.
“Besides the opportunity to see you looking delectable in that dress?”
I blush, but only because his choice of words recalls my own thoughts from earlier.
“Yes, besides that.”
“Consider it a thanks for saving my best friend’s life.”
“Oh, is that all?” I take his arm and let him lead me to the bottom of the staircase, but we’ve only climbed a few steps when I glance up.
“Exactly how high does this thing go?”
“Up to the top of the palace’s tallest tower.”
“What?! I didn’t really dress for trekking up buildings the size of small mountains.”
“It has a nice view,” he says mildly.
“Ruskin. I can’t climb all the way up there. Not in these shoes. Hold on, let me take them off.”
I grab onto his arm, enjoying the feel of his strong bicep under my hand, as I try to unhook my shoe from my left foot as elegantly as possible.
“No need for that,” he says and in one, swift motion literally sweeps me off my feet, into his arms.
“I’ll carry you.”
“Rus!”
But I can’t think of any more coherent objections as he starts to climb, and I settle into the sensation of his strong arms supporting me. With him doing the heavy lifting, we’re at the top in no time, and he sets me down gently. I spin round and the breath rushes out of me in a gasp.
“Nice” is not the term I’d use for this view. Stunning, incredible—even these don’t do it justice. It’s like the whole of Faerie is laid out before us in a beautiful tapestry: the swirling treehouses and hummocks of the Low Fae district, the vast stretch of the Emerald Forest, and, beyond it, sweeping grasslands, dropping to the distant dips of valleys and the gray walls of what must be vast mountains.
