“I hoped you would.”
“P-princess Aurora.” A sharp jab in the ribs from Laurel reminds me to drop into a curtsy, as the rest of them have already done. Murmurs of “Your Highness” ripple like waves.
“What did I tell you about that?” she whispers, drawing me back to stand. “Thank you for attending our dinner,” she says to the others. “And for bringing our dear Alyce.”
I wish there were a way to capture the look on Rose’s face as she gawks between us, her painted mouth hanging open so far I can see the back of her throat.
“You invited her?” Her face goes white, then splotched with amber. Matching blossoms explode on the exposed skin of her chest. “Here?”
Mistress Lavender pinches her elbow.
“You seem surprised.” Aurora links arms with me. “Now come, Alyce. Take a turn with me before dinner.”
Laurel deals me a grin as the princess guides me away. But the rest of them are horror-struck. And I can’t say I feel much steadier. My limbs are like rubber. Muttering and stares follow us with every step.
“You invited me?” I repeat, willing my focus to stay on the Briar roses embroidered on the heavy damask drapes. The busts of former queens, their crowns of bramble and thorn glazed with candlelight. The gentle cadence of lutes being played in a corner. Anything but the needling attention of the other guests. A servant hiccups as he passes us, almost dropping his tray of thinly sliced meat folded to look like dragons. I’ve never missed my hooded cloak more.
Aurora gives my arm a shake. “How many times must I say it? Yes.”
“But—” Doubts and questions buzz like a stirred hornet’s nest in my mind. “Why?”
She blinks at me. “I want my book back. You promised to return it.”
Dragon’s teeth, the book. I bite down on my tongue so hard I taste the loam of my blood. How exactly do I tell her it’s at the bottom of the Carthegean Sea?
“Don’t look so worried.” She laughs, attracting even more stares. “I’m only teasing. I wanted to see you again. Is that so strange?”
Yes. Extremely strange. “But—”
“If I’d known you were going to interrogate me the entire night, I’d never have invited you.” She sighs, steering us around a stuffed peacock perched on a pyramid of fruit. Its cascade of tail feathers brushes the floor. “But I did, because you’re the one person at court I can stand for longer than half an hour.”
“That can’t be true,” I argue, relieved that the subject of the book is momentarily forgotten. “And I’m not at court.”
“You should have seen the men I had to kiss this morning. One of them insisted on prattling on about the cattle breeding trade in his kingdom, even after his kiss didn’t take.” She shudders. “I think he still believed there was a chance we’d get married.”
We’re nearing the royal table. Another guest has slithered in. Endlewild sits to the right of the king, pushing an assortment of quail’s eggs around his plate with a gilded fork. Snippets of their conversation float above the din.
“I’m commissioning a new trade ship, Lord Ambassador.” Tarkin motions for more wine. “I’ve heard that the Fae can weave fabric of such quality that it never tears. That it could be used to craft a sail that does not even need wind to steer it. Is that true?”
Endlewild spears the yolk of one egg and watches it ooze over his plate. “My kin are capable of many feats unknown to mortals.”
Tarkin’s mustache twitches. “Perhaps. But answering my questions directly has never been one you’ve accomplished during your lengthy tenure.” He drinks deeply. “How much would such fabric cost? Surely Briar can afford the expense.”
But the Fae ambassador doesn’t reply. He watches me instead. Aurora and I round the front of the dais. She curtsies quickly to Queen Mariel, but I am frozen in place, as if pinned by Endlewild’s gaze. Like I’m an insect that has wandered onto his dinner plate, and he has me between the tines of his fork.
Somehow I manage to bend my knees into the appropriate obeisance, the scar on my torso aching.
“I insist you come more often to save me from such company.” Aurora leads me away, but I can still feel the Fae lord’s attention sizzling like a brand into my back. “And I’m dying to know what you thought of that book. Did you find anything? Do you think—” But the sound of a gong cuts her off. Aurora grimaces. “Damn. I’m sure they sat you with the Graces, though I do wish you could be with me. Perhaps we could arrange…”