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Regan chuckled, a little awkwardly. “Ah, a sense of humor, Your Highness. What a quality.”
“The Velesian women aren’t blessed with humor, sir?” I lifted my eyebrows as I gave him my sweetest smile.
I heard Drusilla suppress a laugh behind me, rasping deep in her throat. Regan’s smile faded slightly as his brow furrowed, and he eyed me with uncertainty before forcing a wide smile back onto his face.
“Ah.” He wagged his finger at me. “I’d heard you Fae could be devilish, Your Highness. Well done.”
Devilish Fae. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
“Perhaps you could explain to me why the King has invited me here as his guest,” I said, draping my arms over my lap. “The daughter of his arch enemy who was killing his soldiers on the battlefield does seem an odd choice of house guest.”
“His Majesty is well aware of the needs of war, Your Highness.” Regan strode a little further into the room, his hands behind his back. “He bears you no ill will for your actions.”
“How good of him.” I didn’t mean to sneer, but the rage swelling in my chest made it hard to swallow the snide tone in my voice. Fuck Theron. Fuck his good will.
Regan cleared his throat when I said nothing further. “Well then, Your Highness, I shall leave you to prepare for your audience with the King, and will return to fetch you in a while.”
“Thank you.” I rose to my feet. “I look forward to meeting the King in the flesh.”
“Indeed.” Regan bowed and left the room.
I exhaled heavily, and looked over to see Drusilla clutching the blue dress and shaking her head at me, an almost admiring look on her face.
“Oh Elara,” she said with a short laugh, “you certainly aren’t afraid of anyone, are you?”
I shrugged. “Of course I am. I’ve just become very good at not letting anyone know it.”
“Well, you’re certainly braver than I would be in your position.” She laid the dress out on the bed. “Now, have you finished with your breakfast?”
I cast a look over the table, over the food that lay there, and grimaced. My stomach felt heavy, and acid crept up my throat. “Yes, I have.”
“Then, let us start on your hair, shall we?” She walked to the dressing table and stretched out a hand, gesturing for me to sit down in front of the mirror.
I sat on the blue velvet stool and saw my reflection for the first time. My face didn’t betray the wrench of shock that wove through me. The scar that ran along my jawline up to my left ear - where my ear had been - was thick, an angry shade of crimson. I turned my head slightly to see what remained of my ear, which was merely a hole surrounded by raised red bumps. My eyes flashed up to meet Drusilla’s in the mirror, and she squeezed my shoulders gently as she gave me a sad smile.
“Now, my lamb, you’re a beauty. We’ll do your hair so it’s draped over that side of your face, yes? We’ll hide it.”
I wanted to protest, I wanted Theron to see exactly what had happened, exactly what his soldiers had done to me. But the shock kept me still, and I merely nodded, allowing Drusilla to comb out the length of my hair. It hung in long waves to my waist. I couldn’t remember the last time I had cut it.
“And look at your rosy cheeks,” Drusilla said as her fingers flew along the length of my hair, braiding it with expertise won from years as a lady’s maid. “You look so well now, sleep and food have done you good.”
I didn’t especially care whether I looked good, or pretty. I had no desire to impress Theron, or any of the courtiers. I was glad formyselfthat I no longer looked like a wretched ghost.
Drusilla skillfully draped the braids she’d created over the left side of my face, pulled back on the right side to reveal the pointed ear that remained. She opened a box on the dresser and retrieved a pair of long, sparkly earrings, encrusted with diamonds. She held out her hand, and the smile dropped instantly. She looked downright horrified. “I’m so sorry, my lamb, how insensitive of me.”
I shook my head and took the earring from her hand. “Not at all, perhaps I’ll start a new fashion at court.”
She laughed awkwardly. “Perhaps you will.”
I clipped the earring to my ear, and despite myself, I was pleased with what I saw. I looked regal, and I wanted Theron to see exactly that. I wouldn’t be cowed by a fucking Seraph. I rose to my feet and followed Drusilla to the bed, where she set about binding me into the silky blue dress. The bodice wrapped around my waist and sat low on the shoulders, flaring into a cape and a long, trailing skirt.
“Now, my lamb,” she said as she sank to her knees, helping me into a pair of blue satin shoes, “you are ready for your audience.” There was concern in her eyes, crinkling the corners of those amber eyes as they met mine.
“What kind of King is he?”
Drusilla’s brows drew together. “He is fierce.”
A knock sounded at the door, and I straightened my shoulders. I readied myself for the audience with my captor.
