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I do earn a fair few looks from the foreigners, wearing nothing but pants and jewels around my neck, but no one thinks to approach me.
They're punctual, these southerners. A quick sweep of the room indicates that almost all the expected guests have already made their way to the hall less than ten minutes after the appointed time. Up here, an hour late is thirty minutes early.
"Reassured?" I ask Vess.
"We know there are assassins coming," he insists.
I snort.
None of the guests are a threat to me. They have little magic, and too much self-importance to go through the effort of training themselves into something useful. I could defend myself against any of them in my sleep, with one hand bound behind my back and half blinded, for good measure. Of course, that doesn't mean much. An attacker could be concealed among their servants, or be extremely good at hiding under powdered wigs and floral perfumes. I only appear relaxed, remaining ever watchful.
It's no wonder I notice her the moment she enters the hall, even in the crowd. She’s the most beautiful woman in the castle. I'd wager, the most beautiful woman alive.
I thought her kind was lost to the ages. I met one as a boy, and I still remember making an absolute fool of myself over her.
Would you let me touch your hair?I’d begged.
The lethal creature had smiled and sat down next to me, allowing me to run my fingers through her silky locks. It is in their nature to please.
I must have been five or six at the time, and still I remember.
I’d been haunted by dreams of her, increasingly filthy as the years went by, so twenty years later, I looked for her; only to learn she died, murdered by a jealous lover, like many before her.
Dangerous, lethal, and yet so fragile in the end. They bring the worst and the best of us to the surface.
As soon as my eyes lock on the dark haired beauty wearing my colors, I know she’s the trap. Of course she is. Even if my intelligence network hadn’t alerted me of her impending arrival, I would have guessed as much.
A smarter man would have her arrested right away, removed from my court, my brugh, my kingdom right now, before I hear a word out of her lovely red lips, before I get to touch her soft skin, her ebony hair.
I never claimed to be clever.
I elbow Vessorian to get his attention. “Give me your coat.”
He complies without question, shrugging it off and handing it to me.
I put it on, closing it over the exaggerated jewelry at my chest, and hand my crown to Vess.
“Is that—” my advisor starts, but I’m already paces away, so he doesn’t bother finishing his sentiment.
We both knowwhatshe is.
If I let him counsel me, reason might take over, and I’ll have to get the would-be murderer seized and dealt with. And what a shame that would be. I’d much rather play with her.
I circle her like a vulture spotting dying prey, slowly, giving her a wide berth at first as I observe everything, from the color of her lips to her walk, to the inclination of her head.
She remains at the periphery of the revel, not approaching anyone. Naturally. Who would she know here? Though we have plenty of guests from the south, none recognize her, but all those who catch a glimpse of her stare in confused, elated admiration.
Objectively, her features are pretty: a wide pullouts mouth, a straight nose, doe’s eyes, silky hair. But her presence, her stature, the very air around her take it to the next level. Part pheromones, part magic, her inane power is captivating.
I get closer, slowly, until I spy a hint of her face from mere feet away. I bite my fist to muffle an eager groan.
They were once revered, fought over by kings and gods alike, these men and women whose very existence depends on pleasing others. And then, they died off—as far as I knew. Yet, here she is, subtly commanding the attention of both courts.
What a powerful weapon, in anyone’s hand. If she wasn’t here to kill me, I’d offer her a job.
I snatch a flute from a nearby tray.
“Refreshment, my lady?” I ask, lower, softer than I can remember ever talking, approaching her from the back.
