Page 154 of Bound to the Shadow Prince

Well that makes me nervous. Still, I’d wanted to see Ivornath, hadn’t I? This is my chance. I’m good at court games, at wheedling and ingratiating myself. At flirting and making someone feel appreciated. I’m confident I can handle Ivornath. A little flattery, a little awe tossed his way, and then when he sees I’m nothing to be frightened of, we pitch for my sister’s freedom, along with Riza and everyone else.

He just needs a bit of ass-kissing, I suspect. Even Lionel wasn’t immune when I turned on the charm.

I can handle this. Nemeth might be his brother, but he’s said before that he’s not a diplomat. “Perfect,” I tell Nemeth. “Show me what we have to wear.”

A few hours later,my hair is pulled back into an elaborate rope braid decked with golden chains and anchored over one shoulder, my eyes rimmed with a bit of green cosmetic to show off their color. My bruises are covered with a pale powder, and my new dress is courtesy of the trunk of clothing (along with the cosmetics) that were brought in by Fellian servants.

It’s proof that Nemeth has some pull around here, at least, no matter what he thinks.

The Fellian clothing for women is a little different than what I’m used to. There are no tight decorative sleeves, no ornate belts to show off the curve of the hips. Instead, the dress is a sack of glossy, flowing material with a square neck and no sleeves. Instead, there are two thin ties that can be fastened over the neck, leaving the back bare for wings. A quick look in the mirror shows me that I look short and dumpy in the long dress. It’s not a flattering look, but it hides my belly well thanks to my large breasts. It’s not a very warm outfit for the cold under-mountain, more proof that Fellians run hotter than humans. Luckily for me, Nemeth takes pity on my shivering and gives me a thick, woolly wrap for my shoulders that is covered with his family symbol.

A thick plain metal collar is fastened around my neck, and I decide I hate it.

Nemeth is dressed finely, too. I’m struck again how handsome he is. He puts on a jewel breastplate of hammered metal, the sigil of the First House displayed across the front andheld onto his shoulders and waist by straps of thick leather so as to avoid his wings. His kilt is heavily gilded as well, and a heavy ceremonial hammer is hung at his waist—the ancient symbol of the First House and the symbol of the weapon Ravendor Vestalin used to smite her Fellian husband.

I decide I hate it, too.

“Are you ready?” Nemeth asks me, taking my hand in his. He turns my palm over, rubbing his thumb over the bite mark. “Say the word, and I will leave you here. We will tell them you feel unwell. That you ate something that disagrees with you.”

I shake my head. “I’m going with you, and I plan on charming your brother so he’ll have no choice but to let my sister and the other Liosians go. They’re just women. His war wasn’t with them.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Nemeth asks.

I won’t even consider such a thing. “He will.”

I’m mentally getting backinto my “court” personality as Nemeth wraps his wings around me and tucks me under his chin. One dizzying moment later and we’ve teleported onto a circle in front of the home of the king. If I was expecting a palace, I’ve been mistaken. It looks more like a fortress hewn from stone, but narrow and climbing up the walls of the mountain itself. Rock pillars frame a metal double door, two guards standing outside. Above the first floor, windows cluster like lines of grapes growing in a row, each window covered in ornate stained glass. The rooms look small compared to Castle Lios’s expansive rooms and winding halls, but there’s so many windows that there’s no question in my mind that this is where the ruler of this place lives.

The guards cover their mouths with scarves as we appear in the courtyard, and I could swear they flinch. Not a good sign.

Nemeth releases me and I step dutifully behind him, pretending to be subservient. As I do, I eye our surroundings. We’re in a gated courtyard on the “bottom” floor of the mountain, surrounded by high stone walls. There are plants growing here, strange twisty-looking things climbing and growing under the anemic light of magical lanterns that cast their glow. I look down at our feet, and there are a dozen circles in the tile mosaic floor, as if the people might teleport in and slowly gather here. There’s no red symbol painted on the door here, either.

“Prince Nemeth here to see my brother,” Nemeth declares in a booming voice as he approaches the guards. I trot behind him, trying to look cute and helpless.

The guards cross their spears over the doors, barring him from entering. “No humans. She will have to wait nearby.” One gestures at the far side of the courtyard, where I see a small gazebo-like structure heavily encrusted with pale green vines and more of the strange lighting. “The king’s orders.”

Nemeth growls furiously, one hand nudging me behind him. “The king has asked for both of us?—”

“Aye, and he changed his mind,” the second guard says. “And if you go in, you must cover your mouth. King’s orders.”

My mate reaches for his hammer.

I put a hand on his arm. “Nemeth, it’s fine. Just go talk to him. I can wait out here for a bit.”

He turns toward me, frowning. “I should take you home?—”

“No,” I say quickly, giving his arm a pat to soothe him. “We’ve come this far and dressed up to visit. Go in and talk to him. Tell him I wish to speak to him, too. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Just ease the topic of your wife into the conversation.” I take hishand in mine and kiss the back of it. “I can sit in a garden and wait. I don’t mind.”

He sighs heavily, glancing over at the guards. It’s clear he doesn’t like this.

“I’ll be safe,” I reassure him. “Unless you think the guards will hurt me?”

We both glance over at the two men in front of the doors. They’re watching me hold Nemeth’s hand with looks of revulsion, which is odd. I mean, I know humans and Fellians look different but the disgust is a new take. Nemeth notices it, too. He turns back to me, leaning in. “I don’t like this, Candra. There should be more guards here.”

“More?” That surprises me.

“Aye. The palace has always had ten guards at its doors. I don’t understand this.” He shakes his head. “Just as I don’t understand why Ivornath would change his mind about seeing you.”

“Well, go and change it back,” I joke. “I’ll wait here.”

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