Page 79 of A Kingdom of Destruction

“At your service.” Roran paused, close enough to grab her if he chose.

“I’m not sure what you want. You taunt me mercilessly, and yet I’m doing everything I can to ensure peace between our people. I agreed to try things out with Cillian. Isn’t it enough?”

Roran’s hands clenched, and he flashed white teeth at her. He stalked closer still and loomed above her until she swallowed hard at his presence. “I hate to see you watering yourself down for anyone else.”

“Why?” she pressed.

A sharp whistle cut through the air before he had a chance to answer, and Aven wanted nothing more than to take the horse and run. To get as far away from this place and those brothers as possible. She pinned her arms to the side as the first acts of the parade motioned forward.

Roran watched her too closely when she straightened and hustled back to where she needed to be. Her corset impeded movement. Eventually, she made it back to Cillian, who nodded encouragingly at her.

Through it all, she stole looks at him, like they were two magnets rotating around each other, struggling for a way to come together and finding none.

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Cillian helped Aven onto her horse, sidesaddle to keep the flounces of her dress in perfect petal-like order. The sharp edges of the corset dug into her torso and drove the air out of her lungs—the way it was designed to do.

She’d turned into the creature she’d taunted her father about—put in a corset to smile and wave.

Two sentries stood on either side of the horse, and although a slight breeze tickled the back of her neck, the air felt stifling, too hot. And most times a bit too still.

Cillian left his hand on her knee and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “You look pale,” he said, having to lift his voice above the noise and chaos.

“I’m fine.” She had to look away from him for a moment. All too aware of the way people studied them when they were together. The way they stared at her, it felt too permanent. Not like when she and Cillian were alone.

And definitely not like how she felt when she was with Roran. With him, she didn’t care who else was around to look at them. He made her angry enough to forget everything and everyone.

The humidity weighed her down from the inside.

“I’m ready to start the parade,” she insisted when Cillian refused to look away. “Don’t worry about me. Let’s get this show on the road.”

His smile formed slowly, but it lit him from the inside. “Have I told you today how lovely you look? Just like a princess.”

He squeezed her knee a second time before moving to mount his own stallion, with no idea how harshly his words impacted her. Right now she didn’t want to feel like a princess, put on display for everyone to see and admire. Or worse.

Cillian’s azure jacket with its silver embroidery perfectly matched his commanding presence, the fabric highlighting his tall frame and golden hair. Even among the fae nobility, he stood out—every inch the crown prince. He was in his element. Or at least more accustomed to the attention, even when it pressed against his skin like grubby hands.

Aven never thought about it before, how it might feel to actually act the part she’d been born to play and her reaction. The press of so many bodies in the crowd was stifling underneath the suffocatingly perfect sky. The horse seemed to sense her mind and shifted underneath her, uncomfortable. He let out a small whinny, prancing and striking the ground with his front hoof.

Aven gathered the reins to make sure she wouldn’t lose her balance. Riding sidesaddle wasn’t for the faint of heart.

Cillian had gotten ahead of her and glanced over his shoulder to make sure she was still with him.

Her smile pinned in place at the edges, but she clucked for her horse to pick up the pace, and he obliged.

Everyone had turned out for the parade today, and the streets were lined with fae from the village around the palace and more. So many more than she’d ever seen in one place before—and that included the battlefield.

People dressed in their finery, trading work clothes for their best.

Voices twined together in a cacophony of sound.

“The war has finally come to an end!” one of the women chirped excitedly to the man beside her. “It’s a miracle.”

“It’s about time! How many decades have been wasted on this ridiculous fight with those mortals?”

The fae spoke openly about the end of the war.

It was impossible to miss the disdain in the man’s voice, however. “They’re nothing but monsters.”

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