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He hadn’t recognized me. Little surprise. Until a year ago, I’d only been trotted out for the most formal state occasions—Samhain, Beltane, Yule. My own citizens hardly knew my face.
But when everyone descended on that throne room, that same one where my brother had been brutally murdered, my last traces of anonymity would be wiped away.
And that terrestrial fae now held one of my secrets. Not the most dangerous, but one of the most precious.
If he betrayed me to the Brutal Prince…
No. I would not allow it.
I would bribe him. If necessary, silence him in less tasteful ways. A missing tongue would regrow, but the pain would be a powerful message and reminder.
I could not expose any weakness or secret to my betrothed. I could not allow him power over me. The risk was too great.
Nothing could stand in the way of my revenge. Even the fate of Annwyn.
My slippered feet found new purchase, my honed muscles flexing and rising to the speed I demanded.
I hit the ground hard, knowing the red-orange dust would irrevocably stain my clothing. It did not matter. I was under, through the tunnel, grabbing the walls and pulling myself up to stand.
Up the stairs. Up, up, up. Nearly a thousand of them. But my body was strong even if my heart was broken.
I hurled myself through the secret door, onto the balcony, no time to worry if there were onlookers on the nearby verandas wondering at my sudden appearance. Let them attribute it to my mysterious powers.
Gawayn’s voice carried from the antechamber. Evander’s too. My stomach recoiled at his presence, as always. But I didn’t have time to dwell on my loathsome guard.
I willed my hurried steps to be silent. Across the bedroom, past the bed where Parys and I tried to fuck away our pain, into the bathing room. A second later, naked, I dashed back to toss my ruined clothing into the ever-burning hearth. I did not wait to see if they caught flame. Lyrena’s voice had joined the chorus; I was nearly out of time.
Only when I was fully submerged beneath the scalding water of my bath did I pull the bell to summon Charis, Carly, and Cyara.
A bath—that was what a normal female would do to relax.
But I hadn’t been normal since the moment of my improbable conception.
11
VEYKA
“What do you mean, they are here?”
I must have water in my ears. I could not have heard him correctly.
“The terrestrial delegation has arrived,” Gawayn repeated, staring at the ground rather than my naked body.
Not quite naked—I’d allowed Charis to drape a dressing robe over my shoulders before Cyara admitted Gawayn with a poorly masked glower. But the perfumed water of my bath still dripped from my body, turning the gossamer robe almost useless in hiding any of my curves. I didn’t care, not about that.
“How can they have arrived so soon?” I demanded.
Surprise flickered briefly over Gawayn’s face before he hid it, ever the consummate elemental soldier in utter control.
“I sent out my guards hours ago, Your Majesty,” he said.
Ancestors above and below, I was going to damn myself through my inability to keep my tongue in check. He had sent them out nearly two hours before, with my permission. Before I’d escaped into the woods and found the terrestrial scout. I’d assumed the delegation was still a day or two behind him, but clearly I was wrong.
If only I’d seen him before he shifted, I might have known how quickly he could travel.
But there was no way to know if the dark-haired, surly terrestrial fae was blessed with the flora or fauna gifts of his kind. Maybe he hadn’t shifted at all.
“Of course,” I said, turning away. I was showing too much—caring too much. That was why Gawayn was surprised. I hadn’t cared enough about anything in the last six months to demand it from him or anyone else.
