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10
Taking Daein’s hand, I step out of the carriage, the sole of my sandal flattening on an ink-black floor.
As I move around the open carriage door, I see that the whole face of the Royal Court is onyx. It would be pitch black with the darkness of the realm if it wasn’t for the lights dangling above—little phials stuffed with slivers of shiny pale-yellow, gleaming sludge. I don't know what that light is or where it was sourced from, but I like it and, as I look up at the strings of it zig-zagging above, a small smile comes to my lips.
I look ahead to the face of the Court. It’s something of a dark palace with its spiralling inky towers and the heavy velvet drapes that curtain the wide, door-less entrance.
Here, I don’t feel as out of place as I thought I would. My dress might be a faded beige, but there are others dressed much the same, though in an array of colours. The rustle of skirts drags over the dark floor, faintly I can hear the tinkle of bells sewn to bodices, and there’s even a dark fae in a golden suit by a silver carriage. Some slaves are dotted around, too. I pick out the ones that work for the Court with their plain beige clothes and how they stick to the inky pillars and walls. Others are brought here by the fae, and that’s told in the more expensive fabrics they wear. Though none wear a dress quite like mine.
Beside me, the prince fixes a crumpled curl that runs down the side of my neck. His face is relaxed, I notice as I shoot a smile up at him.
“I like the lights,” I tell him.
A small smile is the only answer I get before a pair approaches us.
My curl still coiled around his finger, the prince steps to the side and allows Caspan to greet him. He does with a curt bow, one hand twisted around his back. Vale—the scarred kuri wife of the vicious General—falls into a deep curtesy.
The last time I saw them, I was waiting on them in the Hall.
I’m quick to notice the difference between Vale and I. Her lacy gown is skin-tight and as black as the Court facing us. She wears no beige or variation of it; even the smears of glittering make-up across her eyelids and lips are as black as tar.
Vale seems to recognise me. As she rises, her good eye is sharp and lands on me with lowered lashes, a small and knowing smile on her lips.
I don’t want any of that attention so I throw my gaze to the side and watch the fae melt into the curtained entrance, disappearing behind the thick velvet.
Caspan takes Vale by the hand and leads her to the Court.
Daein pauses and looks down at me, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Why is she wearing black?” I ask outright.
He blinks. So, not what he was expecting to be on my mind. Probably thought I was all weak-kneed and sweaty-handed from all the dokkalves around me.
His answer is clipped, “She is a human wife.”
My jaw sets as I nod. “Got it.”
Stealing my view, he moves around me and chucks his finger under my chin. “Is there a problem, April?”
I glower up at him, at the patronising iciness in his tone. “No, my prince,” I reply, fighting the snarl from settling on my lips.
His lashes lower, darkening his eyes before he steps back from me. His hand drops and he offers it to me.
“Then we shall enter.”
I slap my hand down on his, moodiness quick to steal my face.
Before we can enter the Court, a pacing, fuming figure blocks our way at the curtains. Elden.
He marches back and forth, his white eyes blazing like jars of glowworms, and he pulls off-course, heading straight for us.
I back up and edge around the prince’s back. His grip on my hand tightens. I think he means to reassure me but all confidence is lost under the whipping stare of his bigger, meaner brother.
“What is this?” Elden seethes as he advances on us. His gaze lashes between us. “You bring your whore here to the Court? Flaunting her position at your own sister’s celebration?”
“It seemed the right time,” Daein says casually, a smirk glued to his lips. “Everyone is here after all.”
My fingernails dig into his hand. He’s provoking Elden too much, and it will end with my head rolling over the courtyard floor.
