Page 37 of Heart of the Raven Prince

The coachman lets out a sharp whistle, the only warning we get that we are leaving. I lurch forward when the carriage begins to move, my hands curled in tight fists in my lap. None of the Vessels speak. What is there to say? It occurs to me that I’m the only one in this carriage that is here willingly—a grim realization. Setting my head back against the cushioned seat and staring blankly ahead, I begin to think.

To plan.

I'm about to be within the belly of the beast; it’s an opportunity I don’t plan on wasting. Self-doubt, my constant companion, tries to creep in when I realize just how ill-prepared I am for this moment. I have no idea what will happen tonight, other than what the charm in my ear means for me. My lack of knowledge on the enemy is glaring. I am outmatched in strength and power, and my continued ignorance is giving them power over my mind as well.

Larger, stronger, more powerful men than you are going to try and fight you, Fawn. If you place your merit only in your strength, then you’ve already lost. Your knowledge on your opponent is another dagger in your belt, never forget that.

My father’s words were meant to teach me, but now they just feel like another stinging reminder of failure. I know I have only been captured for a few days, but I am months behind in comparison to my people. How can I expect to lead them through this labyrinth when I am just as lost? I cannot guard against an enemy I know nothing about.

It would be easier to do as Bryan says, to accept the fate these fae have in store for me and my people. It is a far simpler path to bury the memory of Gaelynn in a shallow grave alongside any hope of returning. But my parents did not raise me to accept what is easy. They raised me to protect; they raised me to fight. I can’t do any of that while remaining so wholly in the dark. I think of Yasminda, of how easily she drifts through the city like a ghost. I wonder how much she sees that they don’t realize. How much she learns.

I tug on the ruby charm dangling from my ear, twisting it nervously between my fingers to keep myself from picking at my nails. Determination burns inside of me, chasing away the lingering fear that tries to possess me. I am going to get my people home—that is a promise I have made to myself. It is a vow I will keep or die trying. As I settle into the carriage ride, Yasminda’s words echo in my mind, and I hold tight to them like a torch in this endless black night:

Because I can’t do anything else, but I can do this. If all it costs me is a little blood along the way, then so be it.

If I’ve learned one thing about myself in the centuries I’ve been alive, it’s that I fucking hate parties.

The constant noise is oppressive, ringing around my skull so loudly I can feel it in my teeth. I can’t stand the feel of bodies pressed on all sides of me; it sets my nerves on edge just thinking about it. I prefer quiet, secluded spaces. After years of being alone, set apart from my people by what I have become, I find myself more at home in silence. Even being around Doran is too much sometimes. He’s a constant reminder of who I was, before I damned an entire realm.

Leaning against the balcony wall, I glare down at the teeming throng in the ballroom below. I’ll have to join them soon; the queen will be desperate to show me off. I’m surprised she hasn’t summoned me yet, she must be distracted with one of her simpering subjects. I’m sure they’re tripping over themselves for even a moment of her time. These nights are nothing but a political game of chess—everyone maneuvering themselves as close to the queen as they can get. I suspect they think proximity to power is the same as possessing it. I wonder if they know she would sooner knock the entire gameboard over than ever willingly share.

My gaze trails over the darkened room below as the haunting chords of a cello fill the ballroom in a quiet, wailing song. Sipping from a glass of whiskey, I wish it was something stronger, something to actually fill me. Something that would relieve even the barest hint of this gnawing pit of hunger. The all-too-familiar ache in my chest pulses, and I rub at it absentmindedly as I watch the spinning mass below me. They dip and sway to the chilling, moaning tones of the musicians. Covered in so many jewels that wink in and out of the darkness below, it strikes me that they do not remind me of stars dancing across a night sky. They are not starlight. No, they are the skittering and slithering bugs that crawl over a decaying corpse. The song comes to an end, and I finish my drink, knowing I cannot avoid the gathering any longer. It’s time to take my place amongst the flesh-eating vermin.

Exactly where I belong.

My mother insists on throwing these banquets after each new conquest. A celebration of her swelling army, a time to revel in the utter destruction of another kingdom. Her strength is her greatest achievement, and she laps up any chance to show off the sharpest weapon in her arsenal. It’s not a good sign that the night has barely begun, and I am already trying to calculate how long I have to remain before I can flee. My thin patience is waning, and I’m in no mood to play the brooding, all-powerful heir. I slept like shit last night, and all I want is to be back in my apartment.

I scowl when I’m reminded exactly why I slept so poorly. Sleep evaded me at every turn as my mind refused to focus on anything except angry green eyes. I am so tantalizingly close to an escape and that foolish fucking woman keeps ruining it. I had intended to get started on my plan the moment I returned to Fomoria, but now with Lochlan sniffing around her and the queen's suspicion aimed at me, I’ll have to wait. I can't risk enacting my plan before they lose interest. I just need the princess to behave until then, something I highly doubt is possible judging by the limited interactions we've had. She's just as fiery as the blood in her veins.

Fuck, now I’m thinking about her blood. Again.

My chest twinges, but I ignore it. I ignore her. Running my hand through my hair, I straighten my jacket and turn from the balcony, beginning to descend the stairs leading to the ballroom. Yasminda delivered this jacket in a haze earlier, seeming concerned and distracted, but refusing to tell me why. She only mentioned losing sight of someone but wouldn’t explain further. I didn’t push her. Humans going missing from the Alley isn’t an uncommon occurrence, a grim reality in this world built upon bloodshed and slaughter. As I enter the throng, I dart my eyes about, looking for her.

Arawyn picks the Vessels at random for these events. It’s seen as a sign of deference amongst the elites to have their Vessel chosen by the queen—a myth she has let run rampant. Just another game, another way to pit her subjects against each other. I have been able to keep Yasminda as detached from the palace as possible, but even I cannot go against the queen’s orders were she to ever select her.

Vessels pepper the crowd, easily identifiable in their uniforms in Arawyn’s titular shade of blood red. The men wear tailored suits with their shirts unbuttoned, their chests exposed. The gown the women wear is little more than a corset and a sheer skirt that covers the smallest slip of their thighs, their skin on display. Identical masks made out of strips of black lace are draped over their eyes, and of course the gleaming red gem hanging from their ears.

They move around the room, some of them carrying trays laden with etched crystal flutes filled with blood. A Vessel passes in front of me, and I note her pressing a napkin to a series of seeping wounds on her wrist. It’s early for her to have been fed from so many times already, I doubt she’ll make it the entire night. I hope it’s because she faints, and not due to something worse. Inevitably these evenings end with more than one death, when someone loses control and takes too much from a Vessel. I long ago stopped wishing it mattered even the slightest to them.

It does not.

The ballroom is dark, working in my favor, and I keep to the edge of the room, staying unnoticed for as long as I can. It’s impossible to slip into anonymity, not with my wings, but luckily no one has approached me yet and I am granted a few more moments of solitude. When I don’t spot Yasminda, I begin looking for Doran. He’ll be here somewhere, no doubt itching to depart as quickly as he’s able. He’s expected to attend these gatherings like I am, but Arawyn doesn’t care if he leaves early. I know he only stays for my sake. I’m just trailing my eyes around the ballroom again when I see a Vessel slinking along the far side of the room and I freeze.

Fuck the old gods, what is she doing here?

Any rational mortal would have left the Raven Queen’s presence and thanked the gods it was with their life. Most humans have enough self-preservation not to run back to the ruler that very nearly had them whipped. So I am not surprised to discover that Fawn does not have the good sense to stay as far away from danger as possible.

Foolish fucking woman.

Her harsh green eyes shift around, shining bright around the black silk mask. A consuming ache crawls up my stomach, clutching at my throat, and making my mouth water when I remember the flavor of her blood. It’s never far from my mind, lodged there since the moment I first tasted her. My stomach twists, and I feel that feral demon inside of me waking at the sight of her. She looks behind her, sees something that makes her eyes go wide, and the next moment she is losing herself in the crowd. An irritated sound escapes my throat when I lose sight of her, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m following.

Only to have Duvessa step in my way.

An uncontrollable growl resonates low in me. She, unwisely, ignores the clear warning tone, and touches me anyways.

“I was wondering when I would see you,” she preens, planting a hand on my chest and stepping closer. Fluttering her kohl-rimmed eyes at me, her gleaming white teeth flash bright against her painted lips. She’s leaning over just so and her tits nearly pop free of their tight confines, exactly as I’m sure she intended. “I was starting to worry you were off in a dark room with someone else.”

“What do you want?” I snap, not even attempting to keep the malice out of my voice.