Page 48 of Blood On His Lips

“I have not drawn my sword,” she said, cold voice pitched for only my ears.

“I hear,” the Labornne female next to Tybien said suddenly, “thatyourLady has the cock of the Prince well in her hand. Or should I say her mouth?” Her lips curved. “Or ass. Since he wouldn’t risk mingling his bloodline with hers. He has not even made her a concubine.”

She,Darkan said,will regret that.

I mean, it’s not a lie.I had recently had the Prince’s cock in my hand, and in my mouth. We would have gotten to the rest of it if I’d been more pliant.

Numair smiled.

No one moved. No one spoke. An invisible bubble of space had spread around us as faire goers skirted the loose circle we now made. A small number of people paused well to the side to watch, no few of them with faire treats in hand.

That was just great. We were the carnival attraction.

Juliette paused for a minute, then spit to the side. The Labornne female paled, Tybien stiffening next to her. Even I was speechless for a moment at the vulgar insult.

My cousin smiled, the twist of her lips mocking. “I knew you were nothing but foul air.”

Tybien drew his sword.

ChapterFifteen

“No,”I said. Belatedly, since I probably should have muzzled Juliette before now. “We will not do this.” To be fair, the verbal fencing had escalated quickly, and I'd been distracted by Darkan.

“She offered challenge,” Tybien said, a flush under his bronzed cheeks.

“You courted challenge,” Juliette snarled. “Don’t play innocent. You know what you do andwhomyou insult. Or are you stupid enough to think your cousin will offer you no rebuke?”

His cheeks paled slightly. Her intonation made clear the cousin she referred to was not Baroun. But his expression hardened. Yes, the boydidthink he’d get away with a slap on the wrist for breaking faire rules. . .the insult to me incidental. What was Baroun teaching his younglings?

“Accept,” I replied, voice even, “my apologies for my chevalier’s temper, as Lady of House Faronne, and you may call upon me at your leisure to discuss your grievance. We would not break the Prince's peace.”

“What good are the apologies of a mongrel?”

Juliette began to open her mouth. I slanted her a quick, vicious glare, and she shut up.

“Nonetheless, Lord Tybien, you have them.” I bowed. “I fear you must seek sport elsewhere. Chevalier Numair. Chevalier Juliette.”

We walked away.

Well done,Darkan said.Killing him would be beneath you.Darkan’s intonation implied it would not be beneathhim.Fortunately, Darkan was a—

I didn't breathe easily until we reached the ceremony stage.

* * *

We gathered around a raised dais in the central University park, the High Lords in semi-ceremonial garb and my father also dressed in the formal council robes of the High Court, his in our House colors of cobalt and vermilion.

I stood at my father's right shoulder, ignoring the High Fae as I watched the teeming crowd, and especially ignoring the contrast between their dress and my stripped-down look. My only nod to style was the pair of formal gold wrist cuffs engraved with my bloodline lineage, inherited from my mother. Danon owned a matching set, still in his room, in a velvet-lined wood box.

I'd shined my boots. I expected credit for that.

Darkan, rather surprisingly since he was a fashion critic, had said nothing when I ignored the robes hanging in my closet and pulled on black trousers, a long-sleeved cobalt dress shirt, and a black blazer tailored to conceal weapons. I looked more like my father’s discrete bodyguard than my House’s provisional Heir, and I preferred it that way. Next to all these tall, ethereal High Fae, if I dressed in ornate robes I would look like a squat, human child playing make believe. I had some dignity.

You look like neither a child nor a human,Darkan said.What have I tried to teach you about internalizing the prejudices of those beneath you? You see yourself through their flawed vision. It's becoming tiresome.

You sound like Susenne—but meaner.

He snarled.