Page 99 of A Legacy of the Light

“Well, well, Elsie. I almost didn’t recognize you. You look beautiful,” the king compliments me and I have to fight the feeling of my skin crawling.

“Thank you,” I reply, turning my attention to him. Predictably, his eyes flick down to my chest, and I see Tavish roll his eyes in my peripheral vision. When I glance to King Raghnall’s other side, Hume’s hungry, beady eyes peruse my body and I can’t fight the feeling of unease this time.

Only Tavish clearing his throat pulls the advisors attention from me and Hume shrinks into himself and steps back.

“Enjoy your evening,” Raghnall says, dismissing me and I curtsey once more and quickly move away from the dais.

Eyes bore into my back as I return to Reyne waiting for me at the edge of the room.

Do I add a little extra sway to my hips since I know one set of eyes belong to Tavish? Maybe. I blame the heels, and the glass of wine that has loosened me up.

Reyne snickers as I join her.

“Shush, you.”

“You’re not fooling me, Elsie. I know what you’re up to.”

“Where did your parents go?” I ask, in an obvious deflection.

She smiles at me knowingly. “They’ve gone to mingle. They will likely disappear in an hour or so.”

“I can’t wait to join you all for dinner,” I tell her.

She beams at me in reply. “I’ll make sure Aunt Cait comes, too, my mother will be diluted that way.”

“Speaking of food, when can we eat? I’m so hungry.”

She laughs. “We can eat now King Raghnall has taken his seat.” She leads me back into the ballroom where staff are bringing out platter after platter of food to waiting guests.

◆◆◆

We walk between the two rooms for another hour, and have our fill of the banquet being served. Each thing I eat is more delicious than the last. What really wins me over is the desserts. Cheesecake, those delicious tortes Tavish stole one of earlier, beautifully decorated cakes, and an assortment of fruit and cheese. I’m eating my second slice of fruit cheesecake—one that I know Grandpa would love—as Reyne points out Seelie in the court and tells me stories about them.

“Quite the scandal with the Macnellors. He married his dead wife’s sister only a month after the funeral.” She gestures to a couple in matching dark orange clothes on the opposite side of the throne room. I feel like I’m in an episode of Bridgerton. If I’m being honest, the grandeur, the food, and the general feeling of the palace is infectious. I’m having way more fun than I thought I would.

I give my empty plate to a passing server when we walk near the group of Seelie women who were stood next to us when Tavish and the king entered.

The smile on my face drops when I hear one of them say, “I don’t know why he was looking at her. Look at her dress.”

Another one chimes in, “She’s the human the king has taken pity on.”

Reyne gets ready to turn on them, but I grab her arm and shake my head. “It’s not worth it. It doesn’t bother me.” I’m only partly lying. I knew these things would be said but it’s not pleasant hearing them.

“I should take those petty bitches down a peg or two,” she grumbles, finishing another glass of wine.

I can’t help my laugh. “How many of those have you had?”

“Not nearly enough,” she replies, taking another drink off the server who is making their way around the room with a silver tray full of the golden-rimmed flutes.

“Thank you, though.” I’m more grateful than she will ever know to have her with me, and to want to defend me like that.

Tavish and Raghnall have left the dais now and are making their way around the room. There’s a group of women never more than two feet away from Tavish, vying for his attention. It makes me chuckle whenever I look over at him. He wasn’t kidding when he called them vultures.

He catches me looking and my heart trips. Tavish looks behind him and rolls his eyes when he sees me smile at his harem.

I raise my glass of water to him in mock salute and he narrows his gaze on me before focusing his attention back to the Seelie he’s talking to.

The brunette I spotted earlier in the green dress approaches him, floating across the floor with the grace of a swan across a lake. She really is pretty. The kind of pretty that makes me feel like a troll.