Page 25 of Crowned By the Fae King

If I said something to that effect, though, I knew she'd just file it away as soulmate possessiveness. It might have even been from the soulmate bond, but I didn't care. She was prettier than me and Cass liked her more than me and I wanted her to go away.

Petty, probably, but after the six weeks I'd had, I felt entitled to being a petty bitch.

"Okay," she said at last, sounding disappointed. "I'll send them in. I know this is probably hard for you, but Cass is my friend, so I hope we can get to know each other later."

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ignore the guilt as she walked away. Auntie would have been giving me that look, the one that said she was disappointed in me for being so self-centered. Danica had been nothing but nice, even if she'd clearly taken some wicked glee in my misfortune—or, rather, Cass' misfortune, since it seemed that she and her soulmate found it amusing that he hadn't known of my existence, and that I'd appeared on the day of his coronation like a vulture alighting on his throne.

By the time I sat back up, though, she'd managed to escape the enormous bedroom, and three women were filing in, all smiles. They had to be my self-assigned body-servant hopefuls.

I decided not to tell them that the King had already taken over their putative room. Maybe whoever ended up being my personal assistant could sleep in the consort's suite.

Me, with a personal assistant. Now wasn't that a weird thought.

The human looked to be in her late forties or early fifties, with her graying blonde hair pulled back in a french braid and crows-feet stamped at the corners of her eyes. She had a determination in the set of her expression that I liked. It had to be difficult to age in this ageless society.

The two fae were probably much older, but looked like they were in their mid-twenties. One was tall and slender, with an elegant bearing. Her creamy white shirt emphasized the warm fawn of her skin, and the auburn curls falling down around her face were a dark true red, the sort of color no human ever wore naturally. The other had a sharp and hungry look, her blue eyes too pale and her pin-straight brown hair pulled back so severely it tugged at the skin of her face.

I flashed them a tight smile, choosing to be unbothered by being shirtless. Whoever was my body-servant would probably see me naked a lot, especially if all fae clothing was of the kind that required someone to lace you into it and help you out of it.

"I hear I'm supposed to attend a feast tonight," I said, keeping my tone light and pleasant.

The redhead curtsied. "Yes, your majesty," she said, in a delicate soprano voice, the sort where you just know their laughter could be described as tinkling bells. "The Feast of Bronze Voices."

"And that's a religious festival?" I hazarded. "I haven't been in Faery for very long."

Both fae women exchanged a glance. It looked troubled.

"Yes, your majesty," the hawkish one said, sounding like she was choosing her words carefully. "The feast calendar has a five-day week, the final day of which is the feast-day. The final feast of a septet of weeks is the high feast, and the feast cycle contains thirty-five high feasts." She inclined her head towards me. "The Feast of Bronze Voices is one of the lesser feasts. It wouldn't do to place a King at the same heights as the gods."

"Of course not." Hopefully I didn't sound snarky about it. "Let's get me ready for my social debut, hm?"

She bowed. "Of, course, your majesty."

Restitution

Whether it was Danica's or some other unfortunate noble lady's, clothing had been found for me, and the three women did a good job getting me ready. The Feast of Bronze Voices apparently had something to do with temple bells, and my jewelry corresponded. I had anklets and hand-flowers with tiny bells on them, all in bright silver. A set of body-chains ran from a heavy collar necklace across my decolletage, down my cleavage, and off the backs of my shoulders to lie in sultry, bell-lined arcs along my bare skin, emphasizing the curve of my hips and shape of my breasts.

The dress itself was designed with the body-chains in mind. The dark violet-gray silk was cut in a deep vee down the front that hid the outside curves of the chains, making it look even sexier by tantalizing the mind as to exactly where those chains lay. At the base of my ribcage, the dress went under the chains, so that they lay across the dark silk in silver arcs. A slit ran up the side of my left thigh clear up to the top of my hip, baring another set of body-chains curving over my thigh.

Even though the hem fell all the way to my ankles, that slit meant that if I wasn't careful, my whole pussy would be out. It was obviously intended only for slinking around sexily in, or maybe sitting in while carefully posed.

It did manage to make my mediocre cleavage look rockstar hot, though, so there was that. I could handle not running or jumping around for a single night if I could look like a femme fatale.

Guards had apparently been assigned to me while I'd been sleeping, because four were standing outside my room when some sort of event manager arrived to take me to where I needed to go. They peeled off to walk with me like bodyguards, which left me marginally uncomfortable for about thirty seconds, and then smirkingly pleased with myself, as if I'd done something to earn the retinue.

To my surprise, the event manager didn't take me to a banquet hall, or even a staging space for one. He took me to a small, luxuriously-appointed room, ushered me in, and abandoned me there.

With Cass.

My soulmate was sitting on a backless couch with his head in his hands, his bronze-feathered wings hanging over the back. Bowed back, slumped shoulders, weariness in every line of his body… it was a posture of total misery.

"Hi," I said, unsure of what to do or say.

Cass looked up at me and tried to smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes. "Quyen. Hi." He sat up and rolled his shoulders back, settling his wings behind him. "Are you feeling any better?"

Not great, but I didn't think that was a useful answer to give him. Cass was overwhelmed by circumstances and buried under guilt, and he desperately wanted this to work, with no idea how to make that happen.

I didn't know how, either, but it seemed cruel to leave him drowning.

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