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I could’ve done many other things with her as well.
One whiff of her almost made me forget why I came here in the first place. Luckily, I pulled myself together and ignored my arousal, then moved on with my surveillance of the court before I followed the loud music and found the court’s underground, where my people congregate with the fae.
The notturno in charge of the place greeted me and offered me a seat in the middle of the massive underground space, which was filled not only with fae and notturnos, but with elves and even lycans. It seems as if they’re all happily mingling.
I’m starting to understand why the Unseelie king felt the need to bring me here. This court is merry and serves as an example of stability.
The entertainment center’s location is adjacent to the dungeons, which is brilliant, for it serves as a gentle reminder of the severity of punishment one might endure for breaking the Summer king’s laws regarding violence inside the palace. In addition, the patrons are circulating various herbs that fog their minds and bring them lots of joy. I recognize the scents, for those herbs have been around longer than I have.
All in all, it’s impressive order keeping.
“The male who ran this place before you…” I start a conversation with the young dark-haired notturno I’m sitting with on a plush, dark blue sofa situated on a raised podium. It’s got a perfect view of the entrance and everything that’s happening in the place.
The male, whose name escapes me, crosses one leg over the other at the knee and spreads his arms across the couch’s back. He tilts up his face and taps two fingers in the rhythm of the orchestra playing an upbeat tune, while sirens swimming in clear glass aquariums all around us match the notes with their extraordinary, seductive voices.
I clear my throat, a subtle reminder that I’m speaking, but wait for him to acknowledge me with a look before I complete my sentence. Appearing busy and uninterested, he’s making me wait.
“What about him?” he finally asks, still looking around the room, showing me he’s in charge and a busy male who’s on watch. I decide to call him the Infant Overlord. People often throw these mini power fits when threatened, and I’m used to them since I’m a threat to everyone.
While he’s not watching me, I am watching him.
His short, dark hair is styled away from his face, no doubt to expose the raised cheekbones and dark eyes with long lashes. Those are some of his finest features, and I like how he goes to great lengths to appear attractive. Since it’s against the Summer king’s laws to hunt, when one takes care of oneself, one spends much less effort attracting prey.
“What kind of notturno is named Luthier?” I ask about the male who used to run this place.
“Hm?”
He’s still practically ignoring me. “It sounds as if he comes from this court instead of the Winter Court.”
The male chuckles. “And you sound like an old notturno from some backwoods village in the Winter Court.”
“Let’s say that I am.”
“Then…” He picks up a flute holding a pink drink and sips it. I wonder how often he has to feed if there’s but a trace of fae blood inside whatever alcoholic beverage poisons the lining of his belly now. “Welcome to the new world. Have you fed yet?”
“I have.”
He leans in conspiratorially and graces me with his attention. “Because I happen to have some top-tier fae blood.”
“Do you now?” I ask doubtfully.
Not picking up on my cynical tone, he places two fingers in his mouth and whistles. From behind him, a fae female in thigh-high pink leather boots and a pink bathing suit who is walking on top of the service bar that stretches from wall to wall waves her arm toward a siren dancing in the aquarium across from her. The siren nods and swims away. Moments later, a pair of Summer fairies dressed in transparent linen clothes make their way toward me.
There are bite marks on their necks.
“They’re the finest. Twins. You’ll like them.”
I catch the notturno’s gaze and trap him with my commanding power. “When they get here, you will wave them away.”
Trapped in the compulsion and having no clue it’s my idea and not his,the notturno nods. When the females arrive, he asks for drinks. Once they execute his order, they depart as I asked, leaving me with a pink flute in my hand.
It smells like a bleeding drunk sailor, so I presume it’s something fruity laced with lycan blood. I stare at it, contemplating another millennia of sleep so that I don’t have to watch the demise of my people.
What has become of my soldiers?
Oh, my little brother, if you were alive to see us now, you’d kill us all and never raise us again.“Are you aware that notturnos aren’t meant to consume anything besides blood?” I ask, curious whether drinking pure blood is even a thing for notturnos living in this court.
The male nods. “Those are lies our kind has been told before the houses formed alliances with the fae. Now we consume anything we want. Freedom!” he shouts.
