Thorns of Frost (Fae of Snow & Ice, #2)(77)

“Be careful, Lord Crimsonale, or you may offend me.”

He chuckled. “Something tells me you’re not easily offended.”

I sighed. “You may be right. Many fae have singled me out because I’m different. I’ve grown used to it.”

“I wasn’t singling you out, and I certainly wouldn’t whisper about you like the commoners were at the test.” He took another sip of his champagne, a genuine frown knitting his features.

A moment of doubt hit me at his sympathetic response. It looked . . . sincere.

Months ago, my initial impression of Michas had been mostly positive at the Betrothal Ball, even though I hadn’t been sure if I could trust him. But Cailis’s truth affinity had warned me to be careful. Michas was too gray to fully trust . . .

I shook my head. Everything had always been convoluted with the young Crimsonale.

Stepping closer to him, I studied his expression. “You know, I’ve been wondering if you’re kinder than your father. He would no doubt gloat if he saw the Solisarium citizens ridiculing me.”

Michas studied me over the rim of his glass. “Back to my father, I see.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Why do you want to speak of him?”

I scrunched my eyebrows together. “Can I be as frank with you as we were the night of the Betrothal Ball?”

His lips quirked up. “I don’t see why not. There’s something about you that just begs me to be honest.”

Hopefully, that’s true. “In that case, what does your father have against the king?”

“Back to this . . .”

“In all fairness, you’re the one who started this conversation when we first met. You can’t be annoyed now just because I’m curious.”

His wings ruffled slightly. “But that was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before I knew you were the prince’s mate.”

I arched an eyebrow as a cold breeze drew goosebumps from my skin. “So you believe since he’s my mate that you can’t speak freely with me anymore?”

“I believe that the prince is loyal to his father, and since you’re the prince’s mate, I’m assuming by default that you will also be loyal to the king.”

I sucked in a breath. Michas Crimsonale, for all of his tactile maneuvers, didn’t seem truly evil like his father, even if he did have a competitive history with the crown prince, so I decided to throw caution to the wind.

“What if neither of us was loyal to the king?” I said quietly.

Michas’s drink paused halfway to his lips. “What game are you playing now?”

“No game. I simply gave you a statement, and I’m curious what your response will be.”

He brought his glass to his lips and sipped slowly, his gaze locked in scrutiny. “If neither of you were loyal to the king, I would ask why not.”

“What about you? Are you loyal to your father?”

“Of course.”

I cocked my head. “That was a quick response.”

“Because it’s true.”

“So you would support your father attempting to overthrow the king?”

Michas glanced over his shoulder to the empty balcony behind us, then to the open courtyard. But no one was around. Still, he hissed quietly, “Lower your voice.”

I took another step closer to him and said in a softer tone, “Are you afraid of being executed if such treasonous talk gets out?”

He gripped my elbow and pulled me to the corner of the balcony, but his movements were filled with fear, not aggression. “The king would execute anyone who planned treason as would be his right.”

“Yet you still take that risk. You and your father. Why?”

“Because—” He paused, then eyed me warily. “Never mind. We don’t support any treasonous movements. Long live King Novakin.”

I rolled my eyes. “Who do you think you’re fooling, Michas? I saw enough on the first night we met to know you’re actively seeking willing participants to join your father. And you saw me as someone new to the court with potential for rising to some kind of power. You saw me as a valuable ally. And now, as the potential future queen, surely your outlook on my value hasn’t changed?”

His chest rose faster, but in the cool night with lights from inside the dining hall spilling out onto the balcony, his face was dipped in shadows. Yet I felt him studying me, weighing . . . something.

“I’ve been nothing but truthful with you so far,” I pressed. “Don’t shut me out. Tell me what your father is planning. Tell me what you know.”

He studied me for a long moment. Seconds passed, but I waited.

Finally, after letting out a deep sigh, he said, “My father is concerned that—”

The door on the other end of the balcony whipped open, and Georgyanna and her date stumbled out. Michas immediately stiffened, his hand wrapping around my elbow as the two drew up short when they spotted us.

“Are you two still out here?” the male asked. He was a noble from Isalee territory who I’d had a date with last week.

“It would appear they are, and they’re lingering in a dark corner from the looks of it.” Georgyanna grinned as her affinity puffed in wafts from her. That slimy feeling tried to coat me, but my Shield repelled it. “What would the crown prince have to say about that, I wonder?”