Page 91 of A Kingdom of Destruction

There was only her, and this was her future.

She should be used to this by now. The finery and the pomp and circumstance. Cillian had introduced her to his world in small doses leading up to this point, and if she wanted to be part of it in any meaningful way, then she’d learn to love it. Rather than simply suffering through it.

The mental chastisement brought a smile to her lips, although it felt forced. Hopefully, no one else noticed the difference.

They’d have to look closely.

So far, no one had.

They didn’t care about her beyond what she represented for them, and maybe it had been fine. Until tonight.

Until the way everyone turned away from her when she walked, and it became a knife at her back with the point slowly pressing deeper beneath her skin.

“Excuse me for one moment, sweetheart.” Cillian kissed her cheek again and lingered there. “I’ve got to talk to my father about something. Enjoy yourself without me.”

“Oh, sure.” Even to her, the words sounded dry.

She watched Cillian make an easy path through the room and stop on the dais in front of King Donal. Within seconds, he was in deep conversation with his father, their two heads bent together and their voices low enough for them to be undisturbed.

Rather than make a nuisance of herself, Aven swept through the crowd determined to blend in. Much to her delight, no one stopped her to talk. Outside of a few overly loud words of congratulation, the nobles mostly left her alone.

Which suited her just fine.

The dancing fae became a whirlwind of color. Her heart beat faster as they drew her into their movement, batting her between them on her way from one side of the room to the other.

She had to stop thinking about them as completely separate. They were going to be her people soon enough. She’d be responsible for Mourningvale just like she was for Grimrose. A big responsibility.

Too big.

Unbearable.

Her chest constricted, and at once her heart began to race, blood pounding in her ears and her skin going hot and clammy at the same time. Aven lurched forward, overwhelmed and struggling to find her center when the room narrowed. Everything drew tighter against her, and she finally lurched into a wall, pressing her palm flat against the cool stone.

She sucked greedy air into her overtired lungs. There was no reason for a panic attack. Not now.

“It’s not right. And certainly far from fair.”

The male voice spoke her thoughts out loud. Aven turned toward Roran—she knew exactly who it was the moment he opened his mouth, damn him—and saw him standing in the shadows near a large sculpture of a curvaceous woman pouring a pitcher of water in a stream of marble.

“Of course it’s not fair,” another male answered. “But like you always say. Nothing is fair.”

Who was he talking to? One of the guards? Aven had no idea. She pressed herself back against the wall, hidden by the height of the statue on the pedestal. Did someone like Roran have friends? She’d only ever seen him alone or joking around with some of the soldiers, not actually interacting with anyone.

The way the two of them spoke, they sounded cozy. Familiar if not friendly.

She swallowed down a scoff at the thought of anyone liking Roran enough to want to be his confidant, and then pinched herself. She’d wanted to be more than friendly with him. Kissing him and more had crossed her mind on multiple occasions.

“You’re lucky enough he’s chosen to acknowledge you as the brother of his legitimate son,” the second male continued. “It’s not fair, but you got the better end of the deal. If you make any waves, then things are going to get bad for you, fast.”

Wait a minute… Roran wasn’t legitimate?

Shock rippled through her. With only the wall to steady her, she leaned hard into its weight, absorbing it as her own.

Roran growled. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me. I get enough pity from my brother. I don’t need you looking at me any differently.”

“I don’t feel sorry for you. I’m only saying it’s a raw deal. I’m agreeing with you, wretch.”

“It’s my life. It’s been my life since my mother left me on this bastard’s doorstep, and here we are. Celebrating the perfect golden boy’s perfect marriage.” Roran grunted, paused.

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