Page 109 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

The man turns and meets my assessing stare, lifting a brow. “Don’t you think?”

Specks of gold warm his amber eyes, matching the subtle highlights in the thick brown hair hanging past his shoulders. A short-sleeved toga showcases bulging biceps.

I clear my throat. “Pardon?”

“The lily.” He waves a hand at the courtyard below. “It’s Lady Helen’s favorite flower. Clever of Gerald to choose that for his ice sculpture. It’s sure to win him her vote.”

I shift my attention to the raised dais, located at the front of the courtyard below. Mayor Augustus and his wife sit in the middle of the structure. Their son and his future wife sit behind them.

“Doesn’t the bride’s vote matter more?”

The bride, Daphne, strains her neck, attempting to view the contest around her future in-laws' heads.

“It should, shouldn’t it? But alas, matriarchs hold most of the power in betrothal contests. Especially ones with bloodlines as…potent as Lady Helen’s.” His pointed stare fills with meaning I don’t understand.

But rather than reveal my ignorance, I nod. “I see.”

I sip more of the bubbly drink, frowning when I reach the bottom of the glass.

“Allow me.” The man turns and lifts a finger.

A server appears. The fire wielder lifts two flutes from the woman’s tray with a wink and hands one to me.

“Thank you.” Our fingers brush when I take the glass.

“You’re welcome, Miss…”

“Elara.” I sip my drink and lick a drop from my lip. “And you are?”

“Leto. A pleasure to meet you, Lady Elara.”

He holds out a hand. I don’t hesitate to place my palm in his. I do, however, flush when he bends forward and plants a lingering kiss to the back of my hand.

A titter of whispers rises from the women closest to us as their eyes flick from me to Leto.

One more drawn-out second passes before Leto straightens. I pull my hand back the moment his fingers loosen and turn back to the courtyard.

The air wielder has been striking the slab of stone with gusts of wind, the strong force chipping away the hard mineral into pebbles that are piling up on the ground.

“I’ve heard you’re a healer.”

Warning bells chime in my head, louder than the ones that echo through Virendrell at all hours of the day.

“Have you?” I take another sip.

“It’s not often visitors come to Virendrell,” Leto says by way of explanation. “As expected, you and your companions are the talk of the town.”

And yet…I’m the only one enduring scrutiny. The Shadow Fae were nowhere to be found when I woke up this morning. Again.

My grip on the glass tightens.

Their absence feels like abandonment, and I don’t know what to make of that emotion.

Or the visceral heat that rippled through my gut when I notice that the mayor’s daughter is not watching the contest with her family below.

Leto’s stare bores into the side of my face, waiting.

I take a breath and say, “I imagine so.”