I glance at Princess Sari, but her smile hasn't changed, even if she shakes her head at the woman. “The Sol prince is still barely more than a faeling! Rooke knows that better than anyone—she was the healer who delivered him.”
Lady Loreth’s gaze snaps back to me, her obsession with this topic unabating, and I smile sedately at them all. “Prince Bane is four years old, far too young to be thinking of marriage, though by all accounts he’s a perfect heir to the Sol bloodline.”
Harlan crunches through his appetizers, biting only a few of the vegetables before placing the knife and fork over the remnants on his plate. He’s happy to waste more than half of the fare, as though food has never been a concern here. Even in the Seelie Court, such a thing would be seen as distasteful after the long war and the efforts required to keep a kingdom from starving.
“What do you know of the High Commander? Have you spoken to him in your time in the Northern Lands? As the queen’s own healer, I'm sure you must have. What can you tell us of this fabled male?”
Frustration pours from Lady Loreth but I answer the male with a pleasant tone. “I was housed within the healer’s quarters of the Golden Palace during my enlistment in the Sol Army and provided care to the entire castle. There’s no fae I haven’t met—no commander, no royal, even the Ancient.”
Lodyr’s eyes flash at me from across the table before she grins widely. “What a curious position for Princess Sari! Her cousin has gifted her a friendship with ties to her new home, a wondrous opportunity, but your careful avoidance of the question fills me with fears of the male’s disposition.”
I lift my glass again, watching her over the rim. Acting as though I’m drinking deeply while barely taking a mouthful is askill I perfected in the Seelie Court decades ago, one I’ve often used to ensure my senses remain clear and calm even while the high fae devolved around me. This dinner is going to become a messy affair and with haste, I’m sure.
Setting the goblet down with a smile, I shrug back at her. “Moving to a peaceful and prosperous kingdom after such a long war sounds far more agreeable to me than being trapped under siege. I’m filled with relief to know Prince Soren’s beloved cousin will soon be far away from the bloodshed and horror that continues to ravage the Southern Lands.”
Their eyes all widen a fraction, as though they’d forgotten Kharl Balzog and the misery his raving armies have wrought within the Southern Lands. They’ve been languishing here in this unbearably cold castle of unmatched beauty and horror, untouched and removed from reality.
Sari’s hand comes out to clasp mine on the table where they can all see it. When I turn back to her, she gives me the same soft smile. “I have no concerns about the marriage. I'm eager to see my fate fulfilled, as we all should be, and I know that the Seelie Court is a lovely and welcoming one. The letters from High Commander have been quite reassuring.”
I nod and squeeze her fingers gently. “It’s a heavy burden to bear, but being able to submit to the Fates and do as they ask is a relief.”
Harlan looks between the two of us, not enjoying the moment of recognition between us. Clearly having come to this dinner with plans of unmasking some secret hints or cultivating his own rumors to spread, he pokes at Princess Sari. “Well, we're not quite so sure of this path to your fate, though, are we?”
There’s no sign of tension in her face, but I feel it in her fingers, to be called out by him like this, but she smiles easily. “My father has reassured me that the High Commander fits all the Fates’ requirements—he was sure of it before he suggestedthe match. Even the Sol King is certain of our obedience. He wouldn’t have given his blessing if there were any question.”
“I didn't realize fates were discussed so openly in the Unseelie Court.”
Sari glances back to me and picks up her napkin, then presses it against her lips as though collecting herself, but even this is a careful act. “They're not usually so widely known until a Fates-blessed union goes ahead, but my fate has caused a stir in Yris for many centuries. Harlan enjoys a good mystery. That's why we're friends, and there’s hardly a dull moment between us.”
Harlan grins back to her, preening, but I think my own assessment of Princess Sari’s words is far closer to the truth. She's enduring his meddling for some other reason, and I’d guess it’s at her father's command.
Lady Loreth downs the last of her fae elixir in one gulp, sets the empty goblet down, and taps the rim once with a single finger. Instantly, a servant bustles to her side to refill it. All the servants move here without needing a command, as though they wait at the threshold, terrified of causing delay. It sickens me, though thankfully the fae here are still alive and whole. I couldn’t stomach food if we were being served by the others, the deadened shells of fae who defy the honorable wielding of magic.
“The Fates aren't always so clear, and even a blessed match isn’t a sure sign of happiness or fulfillment... but no doubt Sari will fare well with such a noble and impressive male at her side.”
“Is he noble though? He’s a powerful male, without doubt, but we've shared our own concerns of warmongering princes and the destruction left in their wake,” Lodyr murmurs with a smirk, glancing around at each of us only to freeze when her gaze lands on the icy fury in my own eyes.
Watching as the smile on her face slips, my words are blunt and severe. “When the monsters of the Fates arrived at the SolCity, High Commander rode out to meet them. The soldiers of the last stand followed with no thought for their own lives, or the torturous demise coming to them. Their only concern was for the safety of the city and to defend all the fae folk trapped within. I won’t sit here gossiping about any fae of that standing, and certainly not for the sake of dinner entertainment.”
The table is silent, the high fae all filled with tension, as though waiting for me to strike one of them with my magic. When I pick up my goblet of fae elixir, happy to pretend I didn’t just lash out at their vapid thoughtlessness, they slowly relax once more. With a trembling hand, the female picks up her own napkin to press against her lips, though I'm sure this action is far more truthful than Sari’s.
I lean forward to squeeze the princess’s fingers again, but she smiles sedately back to me. “I don't need any more reassurances. The Sol King spoke to Father directly and assured him that the High Commander was an excellent match. Any male who could walk before a Ureen like that is surely a male worthy of a royal marriage, even if he isn't the heir to his own bloodline.”
It wasn't a lone Ureen; it was a hundred of them. But correcting her would allow an opening for the screeching sound of the monsters that echoes in my mind, and to lose myself right now, at this dinner table surrounded by these high fae, would surely put my own fate at risk.
As a distraction from my thoughts, I turn to the princess. “Your fate didn't tell you the name of your mate?”
She sighs, shaking her head with a rueful smile. “Unfortunately not. I’m one of many Celestial-born high fae to be given a puzzle instead of a name. That alone would be troublesome, but, much to my Father’s disappointment, my fate was also clear that my mate wasn’t a firstborn royal. Thankfully, the Fates know best for us all, and Father has been delighted by their humbling. The High Commander, and the prestige hebears, is a far preferable mate than some I feared to claim. If the male is as noble and true as you say, I have no concerns.”
Thankfully the rest of dinner passes with less contentious topics, though it’s still an arduous undertaking, thanks to the prying of the high-fae guests drinking steadily throughout the night. When the empty plates of our final meals are collected by the servants, Harlan is slurring every word as he babbles incessantly about one of the guards who offended him at the last banquet. The sisters hang on his every word, but Lady Loreth stares down the table at the princess and I with cold eyes.
Sari barely touched her fae elixir over the courses of our meal, sipping as slowly as I did, and she looks at each of her guests before finally stopping on me. When she finds me staring back at her with clear eyes, she stands and clasps her hands over her chest as though overtaken with delight.
“Thank you for joining us this evening, Rooke, it was an absolute pleasure to host you. I’m hoping I can convince you to join me for some tea in the gardens tomorrow? It’s a great joy of mine, and I’m looking forward to showing you the flowers we have growing there. It's been so long since you were last in the Southern Lands, and Yregar is barren. I hope to prove to you that our noble kingdom still has beauty within it.”
I stand with her, a tight smile on my face, but before I can accept her invitation, Lady Loreth scoffs and mutters furiously, “While the Unseelie Court all desperately cling to their seats and their lives, Princess Sari enjoys tea in the gardens and growing her collection of jewels. Whatever are you going to do in the Northern Lands if your new husband isn't prepared to pander to your every whim?”
Sari’s face stays the same pleasant mask, but she pauses for a moment too long to truly be unaffected. The jab is far more cutting than the female’s other comments to Sari this evening, the fae elixir loosening her tongue enough to let her frustrationsspill out. Though Lady Loreth's accusations aren't too far from the truth, I feel protective over Sari in a way that doesn’t quite add up, but the Fates’ writhing under my scars has never led me wrong before.
