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“He is secured,” I said without looking back at her.

I didn’t miss the low growl. “I have as much right to him as Veyka.”

“Tell her that. I’d like to watch the bloodbath.” I reached for my shirt by habit, only to remember Veyka shredding it in her desperation to get her hands on me.

I could hear the sound of Gwen’s teeth grinding together. “What if I give you my word not to kill him?”

I grabbed the blanket and pillow that were neatly folded against the wall, tossing them down onto the now-flat bedroll. Still not looking at her. “Would you promise not to harm him?”

Silence.

I knew what Gwen wanted—the same thing as Veyka. To torture the human into divulging information, to try and sate the gaping hole in their chests left by Arthur’s death. Veyka, for the brother she’d loved and lost. Gwen, for the future she’d worked so hard for only to have stolen for her.

But I trusted neither of them. Not in this. I would not have trusted myself in the same position.

“No,” I said softly.

Long beats of silence stretched between us. When Gwen spoke again, her voice was deadly even. “Go find your bed. I will stand guard over the queen.”

I sighed heavily. Why was every moment of my life an Ancestors-damned argument with a headstrong, stubborn female?

“I am a Goldstone Guard now,” Gwen said simply.

She was right. Before, I’d left her to guard Veyka in my place because she was the only one I could trust, but she’d done it as a favor to me. Now it was her duty.

“Fine.” I kicked my half-made bedroll off to the side and stalked to the exterior doors, to find my long-neglected suite of rooms.

Gwen’s silky whisper followed me in the corridor: “Enjoy your soft bed. If the queen did not invite you to share hers after that thorough fucking, I doubt she ever will.”

39

VEYKA

For once, I woke early. Whether it was the lingering sexual satisfaction or the fact that my sleep was unusually dreamless, my eyes slitted open with the sunrise. Elegant shades of gold overtook the blue of dawn, spilling across my open terrace and onto the floor. Dust motes danced in the shafts of sunlight.

How strange, that they could shimmer gold and white as they hung there, each individual speck suspended in space and time. But when they all settled on the ground, they became that deep orange-red that covered most of the elemental kingdom.

At times it shifted character. The dunes were covered in fine granules of sand as tall as mountains and much more treacherous for their ever-shifting nature. As the dunes gave way to the mountains that circled the Effren Valley, orange-red clay prevailed. A mixture—sand and clay and secrets—made the goldstone that had built the very palace around me. Only in the highest reaches of the mountains, where the goldstone palace was built, did the ground become thick enough to support trees and other flora.

Of all the places to build the seat of power in the Elemental Kingdom, it seemed a strange choice. Why choose to build the palace in one of the few places within the entire kingdom where flora-gifted terrestrial fae were able to call upon their powers? Our two fae races had been enemies for thousands of years.

Maybe the Ancestors knew. Or maybe the knowledge predated even them.

I stretched my arms above me, noting the twinge in my jaw. I was naked, I noticed as the sheets slid down my body. Slowly, my mind catalogued the reason my jaw was sore. My fingers drifted toward my throat, where Arran’s mouth had sucked so hard just above the collarbone. The skin felt no different. But I had a strong suspicion when I found a mirror, I’d see the evidence of Arran’s attentions. Unless I applied cosmetics, so would everyone else I encountered in the goldstone palace today.

Did it matter? He’d been sleeping in my rooms for weeks now. Neither of us had tried to hide it.

In a court that was notorious for gossip, trading in information, I was certain that every fae here knew as much. What I did not know was how many realized he was there to protect me, rather than bed me—and what the implications of that knowledge might be.

Some would think I was weak, unable to protect myself. Others would think he did not find my full figure attractive. There were probably a dozen other explanations and rumors. Perhaps I ought to ask Parys.

I sighed and rolled onto my side, missing the convenience of having him next to me. I’d never asked him about all the court rumors and gossip when I’d had him close to hand. Now, Arran had scared him away.

Not quite able to get comfortable, I shifted onto my elbow, the weight of my breasts pulling me down toward the mattress. As I wedged my arm underneath my head, a glint of gold-streaked brown flashed in my vision.

“Parys!”

“Good morning to you too, Veyka,” his voice floated in from the veranda.

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