Page 64 of Hidden

“What is that?”

“What did Lord Teegar do to earn your wrath?”

He sat back, eyes narrowing. “Do you not know?”

“No.”

Farras tilted his head back, clearly considering how to answer as he studied the softly glowing lights dotting the darkened room. “It is one thing to be ambitious. There are plenty who would take the throne if they could through legitimate means.”

“And Lord Teegar? He seems anxious to uphold authority. He is a captain of the King’s Guard, after all.”

“So he is. If only he were content with that.”

“Meaning what?” Lila laughed softly. “Your statement only communicates innuendo, my lord.”

“And so it must remain,” he replied, leaning forward to clasp her hand and raise it to his lips. “This is hardly dinner conversation.”

Farras’s lips were soft but strangely cool, as if his blood ran with ice. On his other side, Galeeta watched them with calculating eyes. Clearly, it looked to the world as if she and Farras were happily flirting.

Lila cast about for a civil reply. Farras’s arguments were nothing but cobwebs and poison. No doubt Teegar had stood in Farras’s way once too often. Now he paid the price and somehow her family had become tangled in that rivalry—among other things. How many webs was Farras weaving, and how many had her mother stumbled into?

She realized she had been holding his gaze far longer than she’d meant to. He rose from his seat, still holding her hand. With a light tug, he bade her to rise.

“Come,” he said, loud enough for his voice to carry. “I have eaten enough for the moment. Let there be dancing before more food arrives.”

It was customary to break between courses during a long feast. The guests were free to gossip or go outside for fresh air. Usually, the host offered entertainment, games, or—as now—dance. Used to their master’s whims, the musicians immediately struck up a stately tune. It began on a reed flute, high and breathy, and was joined by the bell-like sound of a brass-strung harp. The heartbeat of drums followed.

As the noble of highest rank, Farras began to dance first, leading Lila to the broad expanse between the rows of tables. Other couples followed, weaving an intricate pattern of steps as they moved. In one count of beats, the dancers swayed in a circle, capes and gowns glittering in the errant light. In the next, they were in squares, changing partners and back again. Lila spun with Farras, their palms pressed together and bodies almost touching. Then they pushed apart, circling on feet so light they barely made a sound.

Lila loved to dance, and Farras was an accomplished partner. She flowed into the music, feeling the sound of the fae instruments like the current of a stream against her limbs. She spun in place, the marvelous, gauzy silk of her gown floating in a glittering cloud. The whole room was watching her, watching Farras admire her. And he did—with parted lips and a rising flush to his lean cheeks.

She’d forgotten, living and working in the crowded city, what such intense regard was like among her kind. Pride glowed in her blood like strong wine, urging her to forget the danger that lurked just beyond the dance’s last bow.

But she quickly sobered as the final measures came on a trill of the flute. Farras drew near, breathing hard and his pupils dark with an expression she could not name. In another male, she’d call it desire. In him, there was something else. Anger? Did he resent that she’d stirred his emotions, even for the few minutes of the dance?

He took her arm, fingers circling like a vice just above her elbow. But before he could speak, one of his men approached, a sealed message in one hand. Farras’s grip dropped as he turned away, everything but the message forgotten as he broke the wax seal.

Grateful though she was, his swift change of focus startled Lila. Whatever the letter held, she doubted it would help her. Swift and silent, she faded into the crowd of dancers still milling about the floor, aiming for the side of the hall farthest from her table. From there, she slid through a servant’s entrance behind one of the garlanded columns.

Cool night air bathed her face the moment she stepped outside. She closed the door behind her, leaning against it as if she could contain the insanity inside. A sudden, frustrated weariness gripped her, but she forced herself to straighten her spine as she saw movement at the edge of the woods.

She only had one chance to change fate, and this was it.

CHAPTER 22

By the time the pastries reached the last and least of the dinner guests, the nobles were already dancing, and the servers were returning to the kitchen two at a time. Rafe and Asus reached the large room, staffed by a literal army of Farras’s cooks, just as the next dish was being plated. An array of spicy curries—red, green, and yellow—steamed in brightly decorated ceramic dishes. The complex scent wafted toward Rafe on a gust of the kitchen’s stifling heat. He sneezed, the peppery fragrance teasing and tormenting at once. It smelled good, but not exactly satisfying.

“Vegetarian again?” he muttered. “When do the meat courses start?”

“The light fae do not eat flesh,” Asus said primly.

“Dark fae do,” Rafe replied.

“They have more in common with beasts.”

“Hurray, Team Gravy.”

Asus gave him a narrow look, and they both let the matter drop. There was too much commotion to talk, anyway. The kitchen was a hive of frantic activity, forcing the servers into a disordered crowd near the double swing doors that led to the banquet area. Rafe inched his way to the edge of the group, hoping for a wash of cooler air from inside the hall. The uniform he’d been given was beautifully made but clearly designed for less heat.

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