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That’s true for the present—and the coming year, unless I find the way out. And not eating for an entire year isn’t exactly an option either.
I help myself, piling up soft buns, handsome cuts and roulades, mushrooms, and something black yet foaming like a chocolate mousse on golden plates.
I note my plate is much fuller than his.
The first taste stuns me into speechless delight. My hunger might have something to do with my perception, but I can’t process how delicious everything crossing my tongue is. No wonder the fae are jealous of their food, if it tastes like this. The ingredients aren’t unfamiliar, but they’ve never been so rich, delicate, strong, and complex.
Valdred doesn’t stop his explanation as we eat standing up.
“The high fae of her court were ruthless, hunting her and her lover down whenever they could get away with it without being recognized. It was only when their child was slain that she relinquished her position. It passed down to the last winter queen’s closest living relative, a nephew from a seelie court.”
“Junis?” I glean.
The prince grimaces. “Now he’s enthroned, and the court’s regretting their choice. Married to a lesser fae or not, Cissavna was truly unseelie, and raised to rule.”
It hits me then. He must mean Cissa from Night Hall. She called Junis a cousin. Their last conversation now makes a little more sense. I can’t believe I’ve known her all this time without realizing she wasn’t a normal twenty-something girl like me. And oh, god…did she truly lose a child, killed by her own people for choosing someone they didn’t approve of? This world is barbaric.
“A greater part of the court seeks to remove Junis. Some want Cissavna back, while others are supporting another’s flimsy claim. Either way, Junis needs external support to keep his seat as lord of winter—and his head. He’s long wished it from the seelie seats. And we’ve decided the winter court isn’t our problem. Meddling will start a war across the sea.” He sighs. “Polaris should never have been ruled by a seelie.”
So, Junis’s position is precarious. That’s the first good news I’ve heard all week.
“Polaris,” I repeat.
“The city of the winter court’s.” Valdred’s voice drops to a whisper as he winks. “I wouldn’t go around saying it out loud, though, pet. The folk don’t like to share the names of their lands. Knowing a true name gives you power over a thing.”
I shut my lips obligingly, and gesture to show I intend to keep my mouth closed and throw away the key.
Valdred grins. “You are a charming thing, pet.”
So is he, especially compared to my captor.
“Would he give me to you?” I ask impulsively. “If you asked.”
I don’t miss the glint in Valdred’s eyes when his golden eyes lock on mine. “You’d wish that, would you?”
My entire face is on fire. I nod, because though I know him as well as Junis—which is to say, not at all—I don’t doubt that he’s much kinder. That he wouldn’t hurt me. He’d perhaps even free me if he could.
“He would,” Valdred admits. “But not at a price I’m prepared to pay.”
So much for that.
At least I know where I stand with him. I’m fun to speak to, to flirt with, but not cute enough to buy.
Good to know men are the same everywhere.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
AT THE EDGE
Darina
It’s not so bad. He’s not so bad. Valdred is charming, positively gorgeous, and kinder than the fae I’ve encountered until now. Not only does he act like a normal person, he also treats me like one, like I’m human—or fae, I don’t know. An individual with agency, someone he respects. Sort of.
I’m not, though. I don’t have any agency, any choice as to what’s happening to my own body, and it kills me.
We chat. We flirt. I eat very little now my stomach's twisted, and drink a copious amount of the headiest wine I've ever tasted—darker than heart's blood, but sweet, full bodied, and yet so light. Valdred makes sure my cup stays full, and smiles at me like I’m his favorite person in this whole twisted world.
The wine gets to me faster than any I've tried back home, and I keep drinking it, wishing for numbness, oblivion, peace.
