Page 56 of A Court Bright and Broken

“I’m not quite sure.” Also the truth. “Perhaps he was feeling generous and wanted to make a stranger’s day.”

Hastily I added, “But it was nothing personal. He didn’t even recognize me when he saw me tonight. He didn’t remember giving it to me.”

“Or hedidrecognize you but couldn’t place you,” Pharis mused.

“What will you do now?” I asked. “Have me removed from the palace?”

He appeared to consider it for a minute.

“It isn’tunlawfulfor lowborn Fae to enter the palace,” he said. “And youwereinvited.”

Pharis was silent for a few more moments as we danced and he studied my face.

“Still, Icouldhave you locked away—or killed—just for impersonating a noble.”

He let me dangle for a few moments before adding, “But I’m not quite ready to get rid of you. Yet. I’m curious about you, little Wyn. Even more so now that I know the truth.”

Wonderful. That had certainly backfired.

“Obviously Stellon was captivated by you the first time you met as well,” Pharis said. “Or he wouldn’t have given you the invitation.”

A pause as he tilted his head, looking me over. “Where’s your mark?”

“What?” I blinked in panic. Clearly I was supposed to know what he was talking about.

“Your glamour mark. That dress is pretty revealing, but I don’t see it. What’s your glamour?”

I’d noticed symbols decorating the skin of many of the ball attendees. Most were inked on their skin in black, though a few glowed with color. That’s what they must have been—glamour marks.

And mine was conspicuously absent. Sorcha hadn’t thought about that aspect of my disguise I guessed.

“Why do you ask?”

I was stalling for time. I knew so little about Fae glamours. There was the gossip, of course. And I’d read some things in my mother’s books, but those books had also contained stories about other Fae like Nymphs and Nyads.

My mind swirled as I tried to remember which glamours each species was prone to.

“I know it’s forward of me,” Pharis said, “but what I’m really asking is… do you have sexual glamour?”

Wait—was that athing?

My eyelids fluttered down, and then I was looking side to side, anywhere but his face as mine heated. It must have been the color of the ripe tomatoes in our new garden.

“Um, no. That’s not it. But I… don’t really like to talk about mine,” I said, hoping that would suffice.

When I looked up again, I was surprised to see Pharis’ expression register understanding.

“Ah. I get it. Mine’s like that as well. Shameful. Still…”

A bell rang. Actually it was a collection of bells. The sound moved through the air, seeming to come from all directions at once and carrying with it a blessed interruption to my interrogation.

The other dancers left the floor, and all the partygoers moved en masse toward two sets of double doors on either side of the dais. Whatever was happening, it seemed the dancing portion of the evening was over. Thank the gods.

As we moved through the doorway, white gloved attendants handed each guest a card with a table number inscribed in shining golden ink. Mine bore a very high number.

Glancing to the side, I noticed Pharis held no card. He already knew his place.

He gripped my upper arm for one more second and stared down at me.

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