Page 29 of Kill the Queens

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Page 29 of Kill the Queens

"It's that simple?"

If Reed was going to answer that question, Farah would never know because the balcony door was opened and a servant poked her head out.

"I'm sorry for interrupting, my Queen, but there are men asking to speak with you."

Of course there were.

Farah shook her head at Reed, not even pausing to give him an apology before she drifted back into the dining hall. New plates of appetizers had been brought inside, fresh steam rising off the food. The violinist still played in the corner and men were still split into similar small groupings.

Quite a few conversations lulled as she stepped into the room and Reed followed behind her. She forced a polite smile onto her face and tried to concentrate on the clicking of her heels as she put space between her and him.

Zacharias was waiting for her at the table. He offered the queen a glass of red wine, his own drink held closer to his body. Farah took the cup and brought it up to her lips, letting the drink work its way down her throat and warm her stomach.

"I thought you could use a little break from all the new faces." He smiled gently. "You're not much of a people person."

He wasn't wrong, though the queen was surprised he'd said that. Zacharias continued talking a steady hum of words she wasn't fully registering. She nodded along, dutifully, but her attention remained pinned on Reed as he rejoined his group.

How had he beenthatstrong? Farah’s skin burned with the want for what he had. She'd sacrificed for the strength she had now, and she'd do it again.

Zacharias’ hand brushed her arm as he said something with a laugh. She chuckled and reminded herself to smile. He continued his conversation with little input from the queen. After a while, someone whisked her off into another dance and stiff conversation.

All the while Farah watched Reed. He never turned and met her gaze again even though the queen felt as though she was burning a hole straight through his jacket. She withstood a few other suitors before Reed excused himself from his group and headed toward the doors. Not a word to the queen. Not a wave nor a nod. He was just gone as the doors swung shut quietly behind him.

Farah held up a hand to the man who was talking to her. He was tall, lanky, and pushed the glasses on his face up his nose as the queen stepped away from him.

"Excuse me," she muttered before turning to leave the room. His response was lost behind her, her vision tunneled on those doors.

A servant stepped up pulling the door open wide for his queen. Farah sighed as the room’s noise was muffled behind the door. She looked down the hall, finding it empty. Had he really left?

She was moving again, this time more quickly. Her empty halls became a blur of gray stone until she reached the massive doors that led outside. Two guards were posted there, both standing at attention.

"Did he leave?" she snapped.

The pair nodded. One of them stepped forward holding out his hand with a small black box nestled into his palm.

"He left this for you. Said it was a gift."

The fury that was building inside of her sputtered out. He left her a fucking present? What sort of game was he playing?

ELEVEN

Ace

"What the fuck is that?" Ace choked on her words.

Shelby's hands were trembling as he ripped the envelope open. He shook his head. "I haven't seen the Fae King’s seal in over a year. Do you think it's real?"

Flinging her legs over the edge of the bed, her boots landed with athunkbefore she was walking to his side. "Do you think someone would be faking his seal?"

Ace didn't know a lot about the current Fae King, though she'd met his father once. At that time, she'd been terrified of his strength, age, and intelligence. The human armies led by the queens had only won because of the queens’ magic. They'd won because of the gods.

"I don't know." Shelby pulled out a letter, opening up and scanning it. Ace stretched at his side trying to read along too.

"What does it say?"

He lowered the letter. "He wants a meeting."

"With us?" she squeaked.




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