Page 105 of Crowned By the Fae King

"It's…" he said out loud. Mother-in-soul, he thought to me, the words tinny. She's— That's— "Mother, Tarra," Cass said aloud, still sounding dazed. "This is Quyen. My… my soulmate."

Tarra's face scrunched up like she'd stepped on a bug with her bare foot. Yllana's expression remained chilly, the sort of polite expression movie stars wear when they get cornered by paparazzi and have the tolerance for it.

"What a pleasure to meet you at last, Mother-in-soul," I said with a smile, as if I was delighted by this change in circumstances. I gave her the same bow I would have given a woman like Bà, trying to smooth things over with respect even though the sight of the woman who'd tortured my Cass for her own convenience made me want to bare my teeth like a wild animal. "We were hoping to have the Court in some semblance of order before we asked you to join us here. Things have been so troubled—"

"Gods, of course you ended up with a mortal soulmate," Tarra said with a little ugh on the tail end, cutting me off. Her nose wrinkled up like she'd smelled something bad.

"Now, Tarra darling, what would make you say a thing like that?" Pelleas drawled. He glanced over at Yllana, his pale gaze shrouded by dark violet lashes. "Don't tell me you're a seer."

"Well, just look at him, Pelly-boo," she said with another practiced pout. "He's such a bru—"

"Powerful. King," Yllana said, cutting in with sharp command. "Isn't he, pumpkin?"

Tarra jerked backwards. Her eyes darted between her mother and Pelleas for several seconds, until it slowly dawned on her that she was the only one on the make-fun-of-Cass-to-his-face train. Her whole demeanor melted into sugary-sweetness, all the petulant cruelty leaving her expression. "He is," she said, in the way of a sycophant repeating the words of her goddess. Tarra turned and gave Cass a brilliant smile. "You are, brother."

Cass had his eyes closed and teeth clenched. I could hear his meditative count in the back of my mind—could feel sensation of rivers freezing and snow falling as he tried to find somewhere, anywhere, to spend the tumult. The corners of his mouth trembled, and the nausea of his agony and turmoil made the back of my throat itch.

Knowing I would get all that and more, I gently laid the backs of my fingers against the rich sapphire cloth of his fitted sleeve. He was such a storm inside that I didn't even get any thoughts from him, only raw emotion and flickers of memories, a hundred thousand unhealed wounds from a family that had never deserved him. I knew what being called a brute meant to him, and I knew, too, that he must have heard that exact same barb a thousand times over when he'd been with Dellaphine, all those years ago.

M-I-N-E, I traced on my thigh, heart in my throat. I couldn't be anything but mortal. He couldn't be anything but what he was, either. It was up to him if he could step past how that looked to people like Tarra.

He reached over slowly and covered my small hand with his. Cass took a deep breath, then very deliberately turned away from his family and met my questioning gaze with his wounded one. Eyes on me, he lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles, then turned my hand over and pressed another to my palm. Carefully, he closed my fingers around the kiss. "Yours," he murmured back. "I'm yours, first and forever. Don't pay their petty cruelties any mind, my Queen."

I could only stare up at him with my pounding heart threatening to escape the confines of my ribcage. He'd just… Had he really said that in front of everyone? They were his family—

You picked me over yours, and mine are awful. Don't act so surprised, Cass said to me through our bond, a half-smile slanting his mouth. The stress seemed to fall away with his skin against mine, the rest of the world fading into the background. He straightened and swept his eyes across the trio. "We were to have dinner with Kettekh Alair, the Misted Duke," he said in a placid voice, the one he used when he was about an inch away from losing his grip on his leash. "I feel certain he won't mind being introduced. Why don't the three of you join us."

It wasn't a suggestion.

Tarra simpered and Yllana smiled, but it was Pelleas who answered. "Of course, your splendor," he said, regarding us with interest. "It would be my pleasure to dine with such fascinating soulmates."

Family Dinner

We'd kept Tech waiting for at least half an hour, but all it took was the sight of purple hair and two distinctly Cass-related women for him to reconsider any display of irritation. The man knew how to assess an opponent, too; by the time we'd gotten through the necessary introductions (though apparently Tech and Pelleas had met before), our duke had pinned Tarra as the easy mark. She didn't seem to realize that his courtly attention had nothing to do with her ample bosom or lovely face, but the fact that she was as dumb as a box of rocks. Cass had gotten all the brains and talent in the family.

Pelleas and crew had been in the palace for more than an hour before we'd arrived, so at least the staff had gotten warning that they'd be serving dinner to six instead of three. The formal dining room had a properly-sized table and six settings, complete with thronelike formal chairs, and hopefully the advance notice meant that everyone would be able to be served the same dishes, even if they weren't the original ones planned for.

They'd changed the decorations, too, I noted as we started arranging ourselves. There was probably some sort of fae protocol about that, even though I didn't know any of it. The usual paintings of flowers had been replaced with a set of three tapestries depicting different vistas in the Court of Mercy along one long wall and a set of non-floral still-life paintings on the other. I spotted our crowns, a set of stones stacked in a cairn, and a ruby necklace draped across a dagger before I had to focus on figuring out where to sit down.

Seating arrangements, so simple with three, became a complex dance that ended with Cass and I at either ends of the table, with Yllana to my left and Pelleas to my right. Tech positioned himself at Yllana's side across from Tarra, a position that had my sister-in-soul practically glowing with avarice. With darling Pelly-welly to her left and a rich and powerful duke across from her, she was swimming in suitors.

"It was very kind of you to accompany our princesses," I told Pelleas as the servers brought out the appetizers and started pouring glasses of golden wine for everyone. "I would have expected Raven Court to supply the Merciful Heirs with a lesser retinue—though you were the ambassador for the months before King Omahice's death, too, weren't you?" I asked, as if it didn't matter at all.

Even though it felt like playing a role still, I'd spent enough time in the company of fae courtiers to put the right lazy lilt in my voice and use properly formal language. Weirdly, it helped that I'd spent so much time working at the strip bar. The girls all had personas that they used, and I'd picked up some of the tricks of the trade, myself. It was nice to be able to put on and take off the queenliness.

Pelleas gave me a sultry smile and picked up the glass of wine, giving it a swirl. His long nails clicked on the glass with a metallic sound. "As crown prince and heir apparent, I like to be involved with the more interesting events that might affect my Court." He took a sip of the wine and made a pleased sound. "Glamor-mages of my caliber are quite rare, which gives me a certain amount of security even in deadly situations. As far as I understand it, the only glamor-mages on the Western Continent who can rival my strength are Dain Sundamar and Faerqen himself, and of the two, I dare say only Faerqen would surpass my skill."

Brass fucking balls, goddamn. I had to admire the boldness, and I appreciated the sly way of both talking up his abilities and letting me know that he was well aware that Faerqen was currently roaming the Western Continent instead of the northern wastes.

"I've heard you wear glamor on every inch of your skin," I crooned back, flickering my eyes down his lean body as if I could see under his formal clothing to his pale skin. I picked up my fork and impaled the savory pastry on my plate, then started slicing through it with a smile. "I take it King Sundamar isn't nearly so profligate."

His smile went cutting. "Sundamar has never needed to rely on glamor as I have. The Beast that destroyed Phazikai has little to fear from the rest of us."

A city, once in Raven Court and now a shattered ruin in Stag Court. Sundamar destroyed it personally, Cass said silently, making me jump. He smirked at me across from the table, where he was being heartily ignored by both his companions. Tech was watching Tarra with a smirky little smile, and Tarra was rambling about something with her long lashes batting at the duke.

I wet my lips and gave Pelleas the most pleasant smile I could dredge up. "Is it so dangerous, being a prince in Raven Court?"

The shadows in the room darkened in a manner I found distinctly uncomfortable. Yllana cleared her throat, a polite sound. "There are always dangers, your majesty, even for gods and monsters," she said in a level voice. Her eyes lifted to Pelleas' with a genteel smile. "I never expected to be able to spend so much time with a prince of the blood, but I must admit that I'm delighted for the opportunity. Is it true that you design all your own clothing, your highness?"

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