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“Kate, you are not homely. Never were and never will be. Your beauty is the rare kind that comes from within. If others can’t see that, then it is their loss, not your inadequacy.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but I hushed her with a touch to her lips. “Second, humans are no better or worse than elves. Differences don’t equate inferiority. And third—” I caressed her cheek. “You are young by elven standards.” The silken texture of her cheek derailed my thoughts. “I don’t want to go back,” I whispered, leaning in for another kiss.
“But we must.” She pressed firmly in the center of my chest. “We have a duty.”
I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against hers again. “But then, I have plans for you.” Then, before I gave in to temptation, I pulled us both out of the shadows.
“Oh!” A feminine gasp greeted our appearance. Our first guests, Lady and Lord Orielan, marcheions of an estate along our southern border, stood at the top of the stairs. Their daughter, a proclaimed beauty named Loriela, had been the one who gasped.
“My king!” Lord Orielan declared just loudly enough for all the receiving chambers to hear, causing most of them to turn our way. He offered a flamboyantly formal bow with all the gestures required. “We are supremely grateful to see you well and free of the horrific curse.”
“Thank you, Lord Orielan.” I offered him a perfunctory nod as fitting for the setting and turned to Kate. “I would like to introduce you to my wife, the one who freed me.”
The elf lord swallowed his barely detectable distaste and bowed over Kate’s hand with a grimace. And so, the evening began.
Moments before the last guest arrived, Elinor delivered Sable to Kate’s side. The Grimm pup, groomed to silky, glowing perfection, set about her duties admirably. Subdued and silent, she shadowed Kate’s every step.
After the torture of the receiving line, I attempted to remain at Kate’s side as well, but before long, our duties separated us. I was called over to the far corner to mediate a dispute between two noblemen, while Lady Channing drew Kate off to be acquainted with the ladies-in-waiting applicants. Despite the distance between us, I kept a close eye on her position from across the ballroom. Reassured by the attentiveness of her bodyguards, though, I turned away occasionally to focus more fully on the surrounding discussions.
“Word is the Unseelie king has found a new favorite to patronize,” one elf commented.
“A dangerous position to be in, the king’s favorite. The Seelie king isn’t happy about the bindings and is more liable to attack a favorite than the Unseelie king directly.” Another elf elbowed the first.
“The word I heard was that the favorite bears the name Greyson. No one knows anything about him. He appeared from nowhere with wealth and bought himself a hefty portion of power.” The first elf laughed. “Not that his past will remain a mystery long. Word is the spymaster is already searching that out.”
I suppressed a laugh of my own. Illeron had already ferreted out more than anyone knew. Durvin appeared at my elbow with a glass of water as the servants passed around cups of wine. My guests accepted the wine without noticing that my opaque glass held something different. I had no intention of losing my senses while navigating the minefield of politics.
Chapter Seventeen
Kate
Despite Opal’s efforts to prepare me by memorizing names and discussing all the candidates, the evening quickly turned into a confusing whirl of unfamiliar faces. Only a few guests caught in my mind so that I could recall them when I met them a second or third time. Thankfully, Sable’s silent presence at my side kept most from being outright rude.
It amazed me how many similarities there were between the courts. The dowdy elven lady who appeared to ignore convention declared me acceptable and waved me off as though she were the queen and not me. There had been a similar noblewoman in my brother’s court. Clusters of giggling young females—dryads, sprites, nymphs, and elves—completely preoccupied by flirting with males, flocked among their elders. Whispered conversations not quite hidden behind hands followed my progress through the crowd. Whether they were flattering, only time would reveal. At this point, I suspected the whispers were negative. I straightened my shoulders and held my head high. I had no cause to feel shame.
“Loriela, daughter of Lord and Lady Orielan, was recommended as a lady-in-waiting,” Lady Channing prompted from her place at my side. She nodded toward a gathering of exclusively elven young women in the corner. Beyond them, doors opened into the gardens. “To her right stands the daughter of your husband’s trade minister, Polera. On Loriela’s other side is the daughter of one of his financial advisors, Synthea.”
“Lord Maylons?” I guessed. Reaching for Sable’s smooth head, I caressed her ears, soothing my nerves and Sable’s.
“Yes.” Opal turned to me with mild surprise. “How did you—”
“She has the same hard look about the eyes as her father,” I offered as explanation. “I hope that isn’t an indicator as to her nature.”
“Sadly, I have found it so.” Opal listed off the remaining four elves save for one. “The last is Marylyn, the daughter of your husband’s noble military advisor.”
“Sounds like a very human name,” I observed. Marylyn stood slightly apart from the others. Her demeanor spoke of quiet resignation. Dressed to the same standard as the others around her, Marylyn didn’t boast the same height. Her dark hair fell down her back in sleek strands without curl or wave. Unlike the others, she didn’t laugh at the joke Loriela had just told. I couldn’t hear the words, but from the other girls’ reactions, the punch line had been amusing.
“Her mother was a dryad.”
Instantly, I understood the lovely girl’s discomfort. “Might they look down on her for this?” I asked.
“I suspect they do, but their manner in public is always courteous, so I have no evidence.”
“Someone has to rescue that poor girl. Follow me.” Greeting and responding to well wishes, I took my time working my way over to the group. Loriela noted my approach with a barely contained sneer. Leaning to the side, she whispered something in Polera’s ear. The elven woman’s head snapped up, and she lifted her eyes to meet my gaze before bursting into laughter just as we reached the group.
“Pray tell, what is the joke?” I said as I joined them. Sable pressed against my legs through my skirt’s thick layers. She probably sensed my pounding heart.
The group offered curtseys, but only Marylyn offered the inflection due to my position as queen. Instead of acknowledging them, I continued to watch Polera expectantly. The elf flushed under my regard.
