Page 53 of Where Broken Wings Fly

“You like cinnamon?” I lifted a brow at her. Personally, I couldn’t stand the taste and was actively hoping for the opposite, but just for her I pretended to nod along.

Her eyes shot wider as she gurgled some saliva-soaked agreement.

By the time I was finished serving myself, Niamh and Killian had already found their seats at the large table positioned on the dais, just behind the throne. Niamh took to one side of Raegan while Killian sat opposite them, and as I arrived I realized that there were no seats beside them left for me.

Grumbling to myself, I took a few extra steps down the table and pulled out an empty chair, half-the-room down from my friends. Before I could set my weight against the wooden structure, though, someone cleared their throat.

“Declan, take one of the seats at the end of the table.”

That voice — it was powerful, deep and demanding. Which meant only one thing: it was Raegan. I turned just in time to see the pixie sitting next to him mumble something before rising to his feet and scuttling down the length of the table, taking the chair opposite the one I had planned for.

“Olivia, come here.”

Frowning at him, I retrieved my plate from the table and cautiously moved towards the now-empty seat at his side. Niamh grinned at me from his other side, while Killian winked from across the table.

In a way, I was thankful for his interruption of my seating plan. Because as I looked back at where I was going to sit, I realized I would have put myself right into the deep end with a spawning of piranhas.

King Ronan was there at the head of the table, his dark hair slicked back and his eyes focused on the female sitting adjacent to him. I didn’t need anyone to tell me who, exactly, she was – it was obvious.

Her hair, the very colour of the sea, had long tendrils of dripping seaweed tucked and twisted amongst the braids. The gown she wore, which looked far too similar to the texture of a jelly-fish, was the same colour as her skin; a faint turquoise that shifted between blue and green depending on how much light surrounded her. But what was on top of her head was what brought her identity forth at once — a crown of sandstone and seashells.

She was the Queen of Uisge.

Which made her companion, sitting across the table from her on the other side of King Ronan, easily recognizable as the King of Speur. His skin was light and fair, so pale it bordered crossing into the colour of the clouds he lived within. The wings behind him, awkwardly tucked against the chair, shone with an iridescence that scattered rainbows in every direction, casting the sheen over even his pale-white hair atop his head. And right there was his own crown, a glistening silver that had been shaped to resemble that of the puffiest clouds.

With a begrudging gratitude to Raegan, I slumped down into the chair and set my food in front of me.

“I did not realize you were so taken with me, Prince of Choilltean. Or is it Prince of Cluaineach? I always get that part confused.”

Raegan looked near murderous as he glared at me.

“I’m not. But he—” He pointed a sly finger towards the male I had been planning on sitting next to, “—has been known to sprinkle hallucinogens into the cups of females like yourself. Forgive me for trying to spare you of the embarrassment.”

Because I had nothing left to stand on, I mocked his statement by repeating it back with a scrunched face and a nasally tone.

~

Just as everyone settled down, Niamh and Raegan chatting amongst themselves and Killian adding in from across the table, I saw two friendly faces appear in the throne room. Both Aisling and Rory twirling their fingers behind their back, their bodies looking more out of place than a seagull in the arctic. Which was absurd, because they were in Saoghal, and they were pixies.

“Aisling! Rory!” I hollered, waving them over once they saw my hand in the air. They shared a nervous look between one another before ultimately giving in and moving towards our table.

Raegan snatched my hand out of the air. “What are you doing?”

I yanked my hand free of his hold. “Calling over my friends. Two seats have now emptied.”

“This table is for the King, his guests, and his people.”

“What about your people?” I hissed. “Whether you like it or not, they’re your people too.”

Raegan was at a loss for words, right as Aisling and Rory took the seats at my side. I wanted to stick my tongue out at him, but it seemed far too immature for a dinner with royalty so I settled for a scoff and pivoted, greeting the two of them.

“Thanks, Olivia.” Rory smiled just as Aisling nodded along.

“Of course.”

An hour stretched of me not talking to a single soul, instead resigning to simply listening. The royalty at the end of the table made small talk, meandered around boring conversation that made me roll my eyes. Niamh, Killian, and Raegan were placing bets on how long it would take the Queen of Uisge to notice she had a goldfish stuck in her hair. All the while, Aisling and Rory remained just as quiet as I did.

Finally, Rory spoke. “None of them are talking about the Rachainn?”