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“The staff probably despise my mother as much as the rest of us do,” Crossbody whispered to me, “but her guards are very loyal. They’re the ones in the pale leather armour. It’s best not to joke around with them.”

I nodded, discreetly sweeping my gaze over the huge room. It was some kind of formal dining room, or maybe a ballroom—I had no fucking idea what went in ballrooms—and it was already filled with people.

Like, teeming with people. Fae dressed in flowing dresses and robes and tunics lined every inch of the walls, surrounding the long table set up in the centre, already covered in food. Huge platters of steaming shellfish, about twenty legs of lamb, giant bowls of salad dotted with flowers, nuts and dried fruit, and several cakes decorated with berries and covered in pale pink and lilac marbled icing.

Okay, the food looked good. And on the surface, this all looked nice. Kind, even. But I knew that was complete bullshit. It was all just mind games aimed at Crossbody.

At the far end of the room, I finally noticed a woman sitting in a throne, with several stoic-faced fae in pale beige armour standing strategically just behind her. Unable to help myself, I stopped and openly stared.

So this was Crossbody’s mom.

He looked like her. A lot. They had the same long, shimmering golden hair. The same tall, willowy, graceful frame, although he was now thicker and toned with muscle from his years as a professional wrestler. Her eyes looked a shade or two paler than his, but they had that same hooded quality that made Crossbody look perpetually bored.

Except she didn’t look remotely bored. She looked viciously gleeful, a tiny smile on her mouth as she watched her son grow stiffer and stiffer with every step into this overstuffed room.

My jaw clenched, and I was so fucking glad that I’d come with him. She’d wanted him to turn up to this alone. We’d caught her off guard by showing up a day early, but she’d wanted him to walk into the palace for the first time in six years to this. A sea of people here to celebrate his marriage to the Summer Princess, when she knew he didn’t want it in the slightest. When she knew he was only going through with it because she’d threatened to ruin his entire life otherwise.

This was all just a bit of fucking fun to her. A way to rub it in her son’s face.

I hated her.

She was staring at Crossbody with a tiny, smug smile, before she finally seemed to notice the only ghoul in the room—me—and that I was openly scowling at her. Our eyes met. Her smirk twisted into a scowl of her own.

She didn’t like that he had someone on his side. Someone to support him. She’d been expecting him to turn up completely alone, having had to leave everything he wanted behind.

She gave me a tiny sneer before her narrowed gaze shot back to her son. Suddenly, I wanted to grab his hand and yank him out of the room and hide him somewhere. Keep him safe and away from her. I didn’t like the way she was looking at him. I knew she wasn’t going to do anything overtly bad to him while surrounded by her subjects, but I also figured that she knew just how to hit where it hurt the most in the subtlest of ways.

“My darling son.”

The room fell silent as her voice rang out. Crossbody’s shoulders hunched, wings fluttering rapidly with his discomfort, as he reluctantly turned to face her. She was rising from her throne and waiting for one of her guards to approach so they could escort her, placing her silk gloved hand in theirs.

“Welcome home,” she declared with a smug smile. All the fae in the room started to lightly and elegantly clap, turning to look at Crossbody.

He looked pale, but after a few seconds, he squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. I wanted to grin with pride when that aloof and mildly smug mask—the one I’d despised for years—settled over his features.

“I—”

“Isn’t this wonderful? A party in your honour!” she said. “We are all here to celebrate your return after your long travels. Your brothers are most eager to see you.”

When she gestured to the side of the room, I looked over at two tall men who looked unnervingly similar to Crossbody. The slightly shorter one had a softer, rounder face, so I assumed he was the younger brother, Ariyon. The other—who had to be the heir apparent, Presius—looked cold and harsh, his features sharper than Crossbody’s, his face largely void of emotion.

Neither of them looked remotely eager to see Crossbody, and he didn’t look at all excited to see them. Ariyon gave him a brief nod and sipped his drink, while Presius simply frowned at Crossbody for a long moment, then looked away.

This was so. Fucking. Weird.

It was like the queen thought that by saying something, it made it true. All the people she’d gathered here could clearly tell that the brothers were not excited to see each other, but she didn’t seem to care. When I glanced around in disbelief, I noticed that everyone was unperturbed by the awkward, tense greeting anyway. They were just sipping their drinks and whispering to each other and eyeing up the food.

Was this what it was like growing up as royalty? In a palace? You were just surrounded by people who didn’t actually give a fuck about you, including your own family?

I could understand why Crossbody had wanted to leave. Why he’d been willing, even eager to give up all this wealth and opulence to actually feel like a real person for the first time in his life.

“Who is the ghoul?” Ariyon asked in a bored voice, eyeing me with a hint of curiosity.

“It seems your brother didn’t have much confidence in our beloved palace staff when he returned,” the queen said smoothly. “Seeing as he felt the need to bring his own… help.”

Crossbody stiffened beside me, his fingers flexing into tight fists behind his back. “Actually, Vince is—”

“But anyway.” Queen Galantha interrupted him again, her voice growing sly. “We are, of course, also here to celebrate your upcoming nuptials to Princess Ianthe of the Summer Court.”