I expect him to question this. Although I’ve not officially been shown the whole castle, I’ve been shown enough to know that the kitchen isn’t in this direction. Or on this floor.
But Sebastian’s too trusting for his own good. He gives me a sympathetic smile. “I can’t sleep either. Come with me and we’ll have some tea together.”
We don’t exchange a word on the way to the kitchen. Sebastian barely spares me a glance as he leads me into the large, empty space and puts a kettle on the stove. Just two nights earlier I’d fallen through the wall into this kitchen, and these gleaming countertops were covered in enough food to feed hundreds while servants bustled about in every direction. Tonight, there’s no one here but us.
“Has something upset you?” I ask, leaning against the counter.
Sebastian pours steaming liquid from the stove into two mugs. He frowns as he passes me a mug. “Why do you ask that?”
“You’ve barely spoken to me since we headed down here, and I was surprised not to see you at dinner.”
“I’m not upset. I’m preoccupied. I apologize for that.” He blows out a breath. “I’ve just returned from a meeting with my contacts in the Unseelie Court.” He slowly lifts his eyes to mine, and I see the torment there. “They still haven’t found any sign of Jas.”
I can’t even register disappointment as panic has my lungs in a vice-grip. “You have spies in King Mordeus’s court?” Does he know I was there yesterday? Does he know about the deal I made with the king? If Sebastian learns of our bargain through spies, will the king renege on his promises?
Sebastian shrugs, but his answer is clear. Yes, he has spies in the Unseelie Court. Of course he has spies. “I don’t understand what he wants with her,” he mutters.
There’s my answer. Sebastian remains ignorant of my bargain with his enemy court. “None of your sources have any idea either?”
“Nothing helpful.” He hesitates a beat. “Has he tried to contact you?”
“He hasn’t. Do you think you could put me in touch with him?” It’s what I would ask if my lie were true. “Maybe he’ll tell me something about where he’s keeping Jas. Or maybe he’ll be interested in some sort of—”
“No.” Sebastian’s nostrils flare. “Absolutely not. Even if I thought he could be trusted—and I can’t stress enough that he cannot—there’s nothing he would ask of you that I would let you give.” He curses and drags a hand through his hair. “This is such a mess.”
He really is a wreck about not being able to find Jas. I may still be reluctant to trust Sebastian again, but he’s doing everything he can to help my sister. It’s impossible to stay angry with him. “Thank you,” I say. He deserves at least that. “Thank you for trying to find her.”
He opens his mouth, and I can tell he wants to say something, but he snaps it shut again and stares at his tea. “How was dinner?”
I bite back a smile. “It was definitely . . . interesting. Gods above and below, Bash, I think those women would skin me alive if they thought it would get them closer to you.” I shake my head. Eleven beautiful, bright-eyed, healthy women, each more excited to be Sebastian’s bride than the last. “You’re really going to marry a stranger?”
His throat bobs as he swallows. “I hope whoever I marry isn’t a stranger when the time comes.”
“You’re evading.” I try to keep my tone light, but I see the weariness in his eyes.
He takes a sip of his tea. “It’s tradition.”
“What is? Choosing a bride like you’d choose a breeding mare?” And there goes my attempt to make nice.
“As awful as it might seem from your point of view, it is important that we continue the royal bloodline. I have no siblings, and my grandparents and great-grandparents were killed in the Great Fae War. My mother and I are the only royal Seelie blood remaining. Though some of my ancestors had the luxury of marrying for love and hoping to be blessed with children over time, I don’t. Being born into privilege comes with responsibilities.”
I bite my lip. I hate this conversation. I hate it because I can’t hide my feelings on this, and I hate that I have feelings on the subject at all. “If you had the choice, would you prefer to marry a fae female—perhaps a member of the nobility?”
Sebastian puts his mug down and leans against the counter, folding his arms. “Honestly, I would prefer not to be thinking of marriage at all. I’m only twenty-one, which is considered very young among my kind. In an ideal world, I wouldn’t be thinking of marriage for another decade or more, but my world isn’t ideal. It’s broken. And I find myself in the intimidating and humbling position of fixing it. Part of me would rather be back in Fairscape acting as a mage’s apprentice, but I take my duty to my people seriously. No matter how much I want to, I don’t get to think of marriage and bonding ceremonies with the same romantic notions my mother did when she was my age.”