Page 49 of Blood On His Lips

Renaud didn’t draw out the speech formally announcing the peace talks and soon-to-be treaty—which, in retrospect, did not surprise me. When I considered it, he was one of the rare males who did not seem to overly enjoy the sound of his own voice.

How odd.

Baba and Lord Baroun each spoke a few words, and for an uncomfortable moment, I thought the Prince might gesture me to step forward as one of the faces of the current conflict. But perhaps he read my pleasant expression for what it was, and decided to remain on my good side for now. We’d shared one long, tense moment of eye contact when I’d come within sight, but his expression remained impassive, and I’d gotten better at my own remote mask.

But I stiffened my body to keep it from betraying a shudder and forced the images of the other night out of my mind. We were not Aerinne and Renaud here. We were the Prince, and the Lady of Faronne.

As the ceremony concluded, I glanced up at the roiling storm clouds in the distance, intersected by a silent flash of lightning. The hairs on the back of my neck rose.

“The storm is coming,” I said softly, when I’d left the dais with an intent to disappear into the crowd. “It tastes like. . .” Numair waited, but I shook my head. “Gather the younger ones. We will take shelter. This storm doesn't feel natural.”

I turned away from the mass gathering over the distant mountains, and my gaze lingered briefly on Renaud. He stood several lengths away, surrounded by petty Lords and influential Low Fae I recognized, chattering as if no one sensed the oncoming danger. But I wasn't even certain of what I sensed. It could be my imagination, an effect of my tension.

He met my gaze, held it, but said nothing. After a moment I looked away from eyes as gray as the storm.

Édouard would accompany my father home, and in the meantime I escaped slowly enough to not imply dissent but quickly enough to avoid being imposed upon for further Court politicking. I felt Renaud's silent attention on me as I skirted through the crowd, but no one called me back.

Numair, Juliette and I began rounding up the stragglers from our House. Faronne had attended long enough to avoid insulting the Prince. The younger ones protested, as I'd suspected, but Numair and Juliette cut them off. They sulked, but obeyed. I would leave none of my people behind at this faire, not with roving packs of our enemies. I didn't trust anyone to behave, especially not those of my own House. After a quarter of an hour we paused.

“Who are we missing?” Juliette asked.

I'd been ticking off those we sent home one by one in my head. I rattled off three names, and Numair added two.

I glanced up at the darkening sky. The storm clouds were closer. I scented rain in the air—and something almost like brimstone and lavender.

“We should split up,” I said. “We need to get home.”

She gave me a sharp look, responding to the edge in my voice. I bounced once on the tip of my toes, then steeled myself.

Numair shook his head. “We're not splitting up. There's no way in any human hell I'm letting you wander around this faire unguarded.”

“I'm hardly helpless.”

“No, Aerinne.”

It wasn't a fight I was going to win, and it was probably a bad idea anyway. Or rather, winning it would take more time than we had. I wanted to get home. I needed to get home. Now. I almost wanted to dive into my bed and pull the covers over my head.

I couldn't take it anymore. “Do none of you feel this?”

They exchanged a look, then glanced back at me. “Feel what, Lady?” Numair asked.

I waved my hand at the clouds. “Does that storm taste odd to you?”

Another neutral look exchanged.

“Don't make me slap you both,” I snapped. “I'm not crazy.”

“We don't think you are,” Juliette said. “We know you can sense things others don’t. We just don't always know what it means.”

Her quiet belief soothed some of my edginess. I inhaled, let the breath out in a whoosh. “Find the others and send them home. Tolerate no delay.”

We moved, a new grim line to their mouths as they picked up on my urgency. All I knew was I didn't want to get caught in this storm once it was over our heads. I didn't want to—

“Lady Aerinne! Chevalier!”

We whipped around at the frantic female voice. We met Delphine halfway as she ran through the dispersing crowd, her light brown braids flying behind her. A handful of years younger than me chronologically, she hadn't yet made the leap to full young adulthood.

“What is wrong, Delphine?” Numair asked.

---