“Enough,” he whispers in my ear.
“No.” The word is a plea.
He drags me away from the dancers and the lovely melody and into a quiet hallway outside the ballroom. At the end of the corridor, a window reveals the sun sinking into the horizon, casting the land in the yellow-orange glow of twilight.
The music loosens its grip on my mind, and I swallow hard as my senses return. Drop by drop, like water filling a cup, my thoughts fall back into order.
Jas. I need to save Jas.
I’m trapped in a faerie’s hold. My arms are pinned to my sides. He’s too strong. Too big. I can’t fight him.
“You need to catch your breath,” he says against my ear.
I yank out of the male’s arms and spin on him. It’s the silver-eyed faerie I first danced with. “Is that . . .” I force myself to draw in a deep breath and stare dumbfounded at the window at the end of the hall. “Is that sunset?”
He scoffs, narrowing his eyes at me. “Did time get away from you?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, cursing myself. I should’ve known better, but I let myself be drugged by their music. I lost hours that I was supposed to be using to search the castle—to get to Jas. And I almost drank faerie wine. Fool. “I’m fine.”
“You are now.” He nods to my wrist. “That’s an interesting scar.”
My heart squeezes at the reminder of Jas. She always called my scar my “moon and sun.” One side looks like a crescent moon and the other a glowing sun. “I was caught in a fire as a child. I’m lucky I survived.” I snap my mouth shut. I don’t need to tell him anything, but his charm nearly unravels me. He can’t seem to take his eyes off the mark.
“But was it—” He snaps his gaze down the hall, tensing. “The queen is coming.”
I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a warning or if he simply doesn’t want me to miss it. I wave toward the ballroom. “Please, return to the party.”
His eyes flash. “Don’t let her see your scar.”
What? Why? I don’t have a chance to ask, because he bows from the hips—a full bow from a fae noble, a gesture reserved for their highest ranks. Then he disappears into the crowd inside the ballroom doors. Part of me wants to follow him and demand that he explain what he means about my scar, but I won’t risk returning to the ballroom and that music. I can’t waste any more time.
I pull a pin from my skirt, and the dress falls away, leaving me in the simple thin silk I arrived in. I back into the shadows, breathing a sigh of relief that the encounter is over, even as I catch myself replaying what it felt like to dance in his arms and the look on his face when he whispered So beautiful. Did he mean the music? The dance? Why do I want to believe he was talking about me? Why do I care?
Then I hear it—heavy steps coming my way. A dozen sentries come into view, marching in step on either side of a robed elven female wearing a sparkling golden crown.
Even I am awed by the sight of her, Arya, golden queen, ruler of the Court of the Sun. Her hair shines like spun gold, and her skin glows like morning sunlight reflecting off the water. And her eyes . . . her eyes don’t match the rest of her. The blue should be stunning, but instead it strikes me as empty—lonely.
Once upon a time, a golden faerie princess fell in love with the shadow king . . .
Did the king break her heart?
Shaking my head, I force myself to focus. The silver-eyed male was right about one thing: I can’t let the queen or her sentries see me. I need to stay hidden so I can sneak through the castle while the rest of her palace is distracted by the ball.
I look down at my hands, and my breath catches. My hands, my legs, my body—there’s nothing but shadow. I wave my hand in front of my face, but it’s not there. I’m . . . invisible?
I stumble back into the wall—and fall right through it, into a flood of sunlight in a bustling kitchen.
“What do you think you’re doing in here?” a muscular dwarf in a chef’s hat growls at me. He has an enormous swine-shaped snout and curved ivory horns.
I scramble to my feet, staring at the wall I’m pretty sure I just fell through.
“You come to steal food from my kitchen?” He swats my back with a spoon, and my skin stings. “Get outta here, ya wildling.”
“Yes, sir,” I murmur. I find the nearest exit and rush out of the room, emerging into a long hall different from the one where I spotted the queen. Candles flicker from sconces every few feet, but there are no windows, and the shadows are plentiful.