The chill of the metal handle grazed my palm as I opened the door.
He remained standing at his desk flipping through his papers. He wouldn’t look up at me at all.
I welcomed the stir of noise that came through the hall.
Chapter 15
Juniper shimmied a celadon gown over my hips. A delicate leaf embroidery brushed against my skin as the bodice shifted into place. Sheer sleeves fell from my shoulders—my fingers wrapped around the bedpost.
I inhaled sharply as she pulled the corset tight. “You look beautiful, my lady.” She offered a sweet smile as she finished my braid.
“Thank you,” I whispered through ragged breath. The corset pinched my skin as I shifted.
I didn’t want to go—wasn’t sure if I could handle seeing him after our conversation earlier. With a sharp inhale, my eyes welled with tears.
“My lady? Are you alright?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” I whispered, but a single tear escaped. It rolled down my cheek. Juniper pulled a cloth from her skirt pocket and handed it to me.
“Do you want to talk about it?” She fumbled with the clasp on my onyx. With one more click, it finally snapped back intoplace. I shook my head, talking about how I felt would only make it worse.
“You will be expected shortly in the great hall—but if you need time, you can take it. He won’t send for you if you’re a little late.” She grabbed her cloak and left quietly out my chamber door.
He wouldn’t send for me.
Not until he needed me.
Everything he did—giving me Gaia, pressing me about how I felt him at the willow. I thought maybe his feelings matched mine.
They didn’t.
I thumbed the onyx, admiring its glimmer in the mirror, until finally the tears stopped. My gown caught on a loose wooden floorboard; I pried it free. Unraveled threads poked out of the hem. I exhaled.
I smoothed the hair at my part that led into my braid. Tonight, I would be exactly what they expected. Everything was riding on it. At any time Lioran, or Pyrran, could decide my fate in a way that couldn’t be undone. I couldn’t go back to Bailoc, not after I fled into Nythrel.
An enchanted tune lured me out of my chambers and toward the great hall. A grand staircase gave way to the ballroom below. Elric stood at the bottom. His silver hair glimmered as he smoothed his pristine sky-blue tunic. For a moment I relaxed in his gaze—grateful for a familiar face before I faced the ladies and lords of Lythira.
“My lady, you look like a dream.” He extended his hand out to me.“May I walk you in?”
I hesitated for a moment. Facing the crowd alone felt impossible. Lioran would be in the center of it all. I didn’t want to see him. My hand slid into Elric’s, and he nodded, as if he didn’t even notice my hesitation.
Massive, broad tree trunks braced the walls of the grand room—tree limbs and vines wrapped the walls framing an opening where the ceiling should have been. Cora stood to the side in a simple golden gown. The fabric hugged her curves—no corset held her in place.
Fyn surveyed the crowd beside her until he came across Elric and me.
My hand trembled in Elric’s, but he held it steady. “Breathe,” he whispered. I hadn’t realized that for a second, I wasn’t. My next inhale left my lungs throbbing.
No formal announcements were made, only whispers in a grand ballroom aglow from candlelight and the glittering sky.
“You have nothing but my admiration, Aelira.” I stiffened at his words. What would make him admire me at all?
The crowd parted. Lioran and Pyrran were standing side by side. Their silk tunics gleamed, perfectly pressed—Lioran in emerald and Pyrran in scarlet red. Lioran looked at my hand, still in Elric’s grasp.
My breath hitched. “Thank you.”
“It is an honor, my lady.” The chill of his lips pressed my knuckles. Elric’s attention shifted to Lioran, and I dropped my hand from his.
“Lord Elric, it is good to see you.” A fae lord approached, and I slipped away back toward Fyn and Cora.
