Page 38 of Heart of Night
This time, however, I’m the main attraction. Groups of chatting ladies and lords part to let us pass, their eyes greedily falling upon me like on a chest of treasure. If Erina intends to kill me today, he sure has summoned an audience to witness my passing.
My shoes click along the polished floor as I take a slow step forward, the court’s eyes following me with rapt attention … until they notice Herinor, and a healthy flash of fear crosses their features. A few of them hide their gasps behind their hands, tucking their heads together as they whisper about the fairy in their midst. I wonder how many of them see one for the first time and how frequently Ephegos walks these halls.
The moment I think his name, the male steps out front between the spectators, bows at the waist as if in respectful greeting, then holds out his arm for me. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you, Wolayna.” He closes the gap between us when I stop, ignoring Odja’s murmured complaint that the king is waiting, and picks up my hand to place it in the crook of his elbow.
Herinor shoots me an unnecessary glance of warning to play along. There is no escaping this, and the last thing I want is for Ephegos to realize how close to breaking I am. He can’t know, or he’ll push even harder. Seeing me shatter is what he lives for these days.
That and whatever benefits selling me off to Erina gets him.
My bland smile is the only thing protecting me from the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes as Ephegos leads me into the throne room, past a long banquet table, and straight to the dais where Erina is presiding in his sepia uniform. While earlier today, he seemed more casual, he is now wearing the ornate crown I’d last seen on his father’s head. The jewels set into the band and spikes shimmer just like his dark eyes.
“Good evening, Wolayna.” He inclines his head as I curtsey.
Herinor stands at my side, one hand braced on the pommel of his sword while we all know only Ephegos could outmatch him in these halls. The rest of them are human like me.
Not like you, a voice whispers in my mind. I recognize the goddess of water and try not to shiver.
It’s not a kind voice, more like a reminder of my guilt, the role I’ve played in the deaths of everyone I ever loved. No surprise that guilt manifests in the voice of the creature granting me power.
Then, perhaps the voice is right. If the drug Ephegos and Herinor have been giving me is truly subduing my powers, that means I still have magic. And humans don’t have magic—at least not since the last Mages of Eherea.
Ephegos has hinted at it before, that I’m not entirely human.
Before I can elaborate on the thought, Ephegos pulls me forward, and I need to hold onto his arm to keep my balance. I hate the way my fingers dig into his russet finery, the way the bronze buttons of his jacket shimmer as he twists the slightest bit to watch me gather my balance with a smile that could be mistaken for kindness, concern even.
I know him better than that. He’s betrayed Myron and Royad, the two people he’s been friends with his entire life—because his half-sister died from the effects of the curse. It wasn’t Myron’s fault, or Royad’s. Neither of them could have changed a thing about it. Even if she might have fallen for him, Myron didn’t fall for her, or the curse would have been lifted back then.
He fell for me. And now he’s dead.
“King Erina will be pleased with you,” Ephegos murmurs, his mouth brushing against the ash blonde tresses shifting from the bun to my shoulders. “You have something wild about you tonight, and the king has been known to tame wild women.”
I don’t even want to know what he means by that. Instead of telling him as much, I give him my best indifferent smile and train my eyes on Erina, who has gotten to his feet and is meeting us halfway at the bottom of the stairs to the dais.
I have to admit, he looks like a real king in his attire. His regal posture adds to the image as does his refined manners.
“You are a sight to behold.” He picks my hand from Ephegos’s arm, entirely ignoring the Crow bowing at his waist, and indicates a kiss to the back of my palm. So very Tavrasian. So very unwelcome.
I smile through it, keeping my revulsion to myself while Herinor stands an inch closer to my side. At least, the other guests have resigned to observing from a distance, and I’m positive I have the menacing Crow to my right to thank for it. Ephegos gets a few glances, but he doesn’t have a cruel air about him the way Herinor does.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Keeping to court protocol seems to be the safest option for now. Who knows what will happen if I call him by his first name in front of everyone? Familiarity is my enemy here. It breaks down natural barriers protecting me from unwanted touches and words I intend to never hear. There are no blades ready to cut me down, no torture masters. Only Erina and his appraising eyes that tell me I’m not here to die, and a shiver of revulsion runs down my back.
If Erina wants to make me his bride, he’ll have to drag me to the altar. Not even Myron did that when I still believed he was a monster.
Erina is the opposite of the Crow King, though, with his politeness and clear display of social status. He is nothing if not a king, and the whole room knows it. His rule isn’t a brooding, dark, and desperate one the way Myron’s was. In this palace, pomp and glamor rule as much as the House Jelnedyn.
The jewels on his hand gleam as he holds out his hand in invitation, gesturing at the banquet table with the other. “Please, sit with me.”
Refusing isn’t an option; I don’t need Ephegos’s and Herinor’s confirming glances to know, so I place my hand in Erina’s warm palm, thinking of the wind on my skin when I stood on the Wild Ray’s deck, looking out over the turquoise waves of the Quiet Sea.
One day, I’ll sail again.
The knife Clio transferred from my earlier skirts into the pocket of this dress is a reassuring weight against my thigh. I won’t hesitate to use it should it come to it—away from prying eyes, of course.
Memories of my last wedding night press to the front of my thoughts, how Myron pressed a knife into my hand, equipping me with a tool to save myself from him should he lose control over his Crow temper. He didn’t call it for what it was back then, but I know now. I know he would have never hurt me, even when he hadn’t developed feelings for me yet.
Erina is a whole different story, though. I was sent to the Seeing Forest on his order, sentenced to a fate worse than death. It seems Ephegos got the missive and is following in his footsteps by placing me in that very same position.
Sold as a bride.