Page 66 of The Crimson Walls Of Algorath

“Oh?” Alek sent her spinning out, then back into his arms. They continued, the steady triplet beat of the cello keeping the rhythm of their steps in line with the other dancers. “Why is that?”

Unlike her sister, Emillie did not need to watch her feet as they moved. She knew the steps, trusted her body to move with them, and because of that, she kept her eyes up where she could see her partner…and the crowd around them. “If she comes back, he has plans for her that she will not take kindly to.”

Alek frowned. “Such as?”

“Marrying the General.”

The Lord Governor remained silent for several steps as he calculated her words. When he spoke, still quiet as ever, it was with the light of a sudden realization in his eyes. “He did something to her. The General.”

Emillie swallowed hard. No one knew the truth of what happened aside from their family, Camilla, and Revelie. Azriel had likely been as tight-lipped about the incident as everyone else, for not even Alek knew, and they had grown close over the weeks. They had all kept it a secret—until now, it seemed. “He hurt her. The night of their engagement ball, Azriel discovered the injury.”

“Interesting.”

“What is?”

“That he did not kill the General outright that night.” Alek looked around the ballroom, keeping a close eye on the dancers closest to them to ensure they were not listening in on conversations that did not concern them. “Not doing so would have been a great act of restraint, according to his lineage.”

Emillie almost stopped dancing entirely. For the first time since they stepped foot on the dance floor, she stumbled much like her sister would. “You do not believe he bonded to her, do you?”

Alek held her steady as she regained her footing and her place in the waltz. “I do not believe he would have reacted in many ways were that not the case.”

Though Emillie was a self-proclaimed scholar, her expertise on fae paled in comparison to vampiric and mage history. While her sister dabbled in tales of strange fantasy and romance, she always considered herself far more studious. Her interests had led her down the path of learning about medicines across Myridia and their numerous uses. It had been how she knew to give Madan the Algorathian salve for Azriel’s back after his lashing. Fae life had never been high on her priorities, however. Particularly anything to do with their love lives.

She had, however, heard of fae bonds. Those soul-deep connections which knitted two unwitting participants together forever—or to the detriment of the men if their partner denied them. Worse, if their bonded partner died.

“I did not realize dhemons—” Emillie caught herself. She glanced around them before trying again, “I did not realize they could bond.”

Alek gave her a small shrug. “I do not see why they could not. They are still fae.”

He was, of course, correct. There was no reason why dhemons were incapable of bonding. They were just as connected to nature as any of the other fae races—just as connected to their patron deity, Keon. Why would the God of the Underworld, who had loved his mortal wife, Anwen, so deeply, not allow his horned fae to create such intense connections to one another?

“What happens to a fae,” Emillie asked, her heart suddenly seizing at the thought, “when separated from their mate?”

“I have no idea,” Alek admitted with a light frown, not quite meeting her eyes. “But I do not believe it to be good for them.”

No. Emillie did not believe it would be, either. The question nagged on her mind as the waltz slowed to an end, however, and she knew it would become her mission over the next fortnight to learn all she could about fae. She would hide herself away from her father with piles of books and dive into her studies. It would be the perfect excuse to ignore him.

“Forgive me.” Alek bowed and led her from the dance floor. “I must greet some new arrivals.”

“May I join you?” Emillie smiled up at him. She did not want to be left alone. Not when she had yet to see either of her friends. Though she knew Revelie would likely be somewhere on the outskirts of the room, as usual, she wondered what Camilla was up to. Perhaps she had found a Rusan servant to spend time with in a dark recess.

Something lit up in Alek’s depthless eyes at her request. She did not know what caused it, but there was something in the way he looked at her most nights that told her she had intrigued him. Be it something she said or one of her mannerisms, he watched her as though studying a puzzle and fitting in a piece he had not known existed before.

“I would love that.”

Heat washed across Emillie’s face, and her stomach sank at his words. The way he said it did not sound as though he merely loved the suggestion. She could see the way he looked at her and knew in her heart of hearts that she would not be able to return the affection that seemed to glow from him.

What had she done to garner such devotion?

Nonetheless, they began their circle through the throng of guests as she had seen Ariadne and Azriel do at balls. While her sister had not needed to greet guests or thank them for their presence, however, she was set and determined to appear as the dutiful future wife to a Lord Governor. It was a part she had to play to not only appease her father but to keep any gossip mongers from coming after her.

Yet it was as she smiled and laughed with Lord and Lady Daracot from the Waer Province that she saw a familiar figure move through the crowd. Not Camilla’s head of golden hair, nor Revelie’s crown of curls, but the vibrant red of a curvy Rusan woman with dark, enchanting eyes.

Emillie’s heart skipped a beat as Kyra slowed to a pause, her beautiful round face turning toward her. Those perfect, plump lips curled into a small smile, heating up Emillie’s core in an instant. As though knowing precisely what went through Emillie’s head—their shared kisses and the way those skilled fingers had felt between her thighs—Kyra’s cheeks flushed, and she ducked her face away, disappearing back into the crowd.

Gods. What was Kyra doing at the Nightingale Manor? Certainly, Alek had not invited Rusan vampires to join the ball. Not when the Society would be so cruel to them.

But Kyra was there and gone so quickly, Emillie wondered if it had truly been the same woman. Even if it had been, it was not as though Alek had intended it. He had likely sought to hire more servants temporarily for the ball, and Kyra had been one of the many employed for the evening.

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