Page 59 of The Shadow Heir

The massive cavern was mostly empty when we arrived, save for a handful of white-clad servants bustling about, placing food on tables and setting out wine goblets.

“Why are we here so early?” I asked, fighting the trepidation mounting in my jittery fingers.

Ariana bit her lips and pressed her hand against the pocket containing the stone. “You are to be standing there before any of the fae arrive, and sometimes they come early to start drinking.”

“Oh. How nice.”

Ariana’s face pinched slightly, the first expression of compassion I’d seen from her. “I’m sure some will be early tonight, considering the heir is away. They like to revel a little more on nights when he’s absent.”

“Absent?” My voice cracked a little, but I quickly swallowed, forcing down the knot attempting to shut off my air supply. Giving Ariana the stone had been the right thing to do to, considering humiliation wasn’t as bad as getting poisoned, especially now that I knew Casimiro wasn’t here to administer an antidote.

“He’s collecting another mortal, I believe,” she replied.

Another human to torture, whether by lifelong servitude or months of deadly trials. I was no longer sure which was worse. “Where do I stand?” I asked. I was ready to get this over with.

Her head nodded toward a table near the center of the cavern.

The table was covered in heaps of grapes, cheese, roasted nuts, steaming platters of roasted lamb or slivered potatoes, and rice scented with saffron enchanted to never get cold as long as the fae wanted to eat it.

I cleared my throat and nodded, willing the night to pass quickly. Gathering my heavy, beaded dress in my hands, I stepped from the stone bench onto the table, delicately picking my way to the center, which had been left vacant, just for me.

Once in place, I shook out my hands, lifted my chin, and imagined I was awaiting a performance. That’s all this was. A terrible, humiliating performance.

My eyes cut to the prince’s table. It, too, was spread with food, which meant perhaps that Alba would dine there alone tonight. Even though I’d agreed to spar with her, I doubted that made us friends. My face pinched. No one would get me out of this. As no one had saved Ivy or Eudoria or any of the others.

The air in my lungs whooshed out slowly.

“I’m sorry you have to endure this,” Ariana said before quickly striding away.

“Wait,” I called after her. That was the nicest thing she’d said to me since my arrival. She turned around, hands wringing at her waist. “After…tonight,” I said, scrambling for a reason to talk to her again, to attempt to forge a friendship with her. “I want to know what you were taught aboutmal—about people like me.” I offered her a small smile, desperately trying not to cringe at my own words. It was a terrible reason to talk, but maybe if she knew I could respect her views on cursed children, she might be more willing tochangethose views and see me as a friend.

She blinked up at me, her eyes flicking from my face to the food displayed around me. Then she nodded quickly and fled the cavern.

After what felt like half an eternity, fae courtiers began trickling into the cavern. Fresh sweat prickled across my chest and back. Fortunately, the two fae who arrived first did not sit at the table where I stood. They never even looked at me, a relief.

Less than fifteen minutes later, another fae arrived, then another, and soon the cavern was flooding with shadow fae, some in elegant ballgowns and suits, others in attire stranger than any story I’d ever heard. One fae man who sat at my table had feathers all over his body, save for his face and the palms of his hands. A woman came laughing and dancing her way to my table with a dress made of tiny mirrors. As she took her seat, fragmented images of my reflection bombarded me.

Other than laughter and pointing and some rather unpleasant name calling, the table filled without anyone throwing anything at me or touching me in any way. They laughed and talked among themselves, but their sporadic insults were delivered with enough vitriol to make sure I never missed a single one.

The first glass of wine tossed onto my dress came as a complete shock.

The red liquid sloshed from the goblet onto the beaded hem of my white gown. I’d remained mostly stoic, only moving to shift my weight, but I let out a small shout as the fae launched into riotous laughter.

On the far side of the cavern, Ivy’s head popped up as she watched me. I couldn’t see her expression, but I knew exactly how she felt. I’d been angry when I’d seen her and the other entertainers suffer.

The woman wearing the mirror dress hurled a strawberry so hard that it splattered across my stomach. As they pointed and laughed, heat surged up my throat and burned in my ears and cheeks.

So that was the reason for the white dress. To provide a lovely canvas for the food and wine.

I glanced down at the items near my feet, refusing to meet any of the fae’s eyes. There was a gravy boat of some sort and a decanter half full of wine.

Exhaling as loudly as a bull, I fisted my hands and told myself it would be over soon. But when the feathered man stood up and hurled his full glass of wine at my chest, I snapped.

My foot jerked out and kicked the decanter.

Spiced red wine flew all over the feathered fae and the man sitting next to him in a ridiculous yellow suit.

The edges of my lips curled up at their shocked faces.

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