Page 159 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

It’s the same as all the other nights of the celebrations save for last night. All the high lords are present in the ballroom, as fauns with impressive, scimitar-like horns tipped with gold and silver carry huge bowls with dark flames around. Some fae burn incense that emits a heavy smoke. It seems to take the edge off everything, and guests gather around to inhale it, their eyes glazing a little.

I occasionally watch Riven, who is lounging in one of the seats with a dramatic flair. He looks so aloof, so untouchable, so otherworldly and cold and infinitely amused it’s hard to believe that he can be different;isdifferent, for that matter. Or is he, really? Or is this, between us, just another game? Am I just a game for him?

A lot of women of all kinds—horned, hooved, winged—are gathered around him, throwing him long, longing glances, laughingand joking while they pass smaller pots around, holding the same incense as the larger ones. Their pupils widen after they have inhaled their share, their bodies becoming lax and their movements slower, lazier.

Twice I meet Riven’s eyes. His fingers glide back down the naked, silver-colored spine of a lavender-skinned, emerald-winged pixie, who has propped her head in his lap while he sips from a golden goblet, the liquid in it tingeing his remarkable eyes red.

My heart aches.

As if last night never happened.

I avert my gaze quickly when I spot Caryan with another breathtakingly beautiful elf woman with long, dark hair next to him. Her hand rests on his arm as she laughs about something. I wonder whether she’s the woman from last night, from the celebrations. But I shake the thought off.

Yet it’s hard to look away for long. They’re the most beautiful couple in the room, as if their presence drinks all the light from the other glorious creatures around them. And for a second, I find it hard to breathe.

At that very moment, Caryan looks over to me, as if he’s sensed me watching, sensed my discomfort. I stare back too long, my eyes wide, before I snap out of it and flee into the kitchen.

***

The last rays of sun dip the terrace in a mystical gleam before they pull back and the fiery ball almost disappears behind the bluish peaks of the mountains undulating in the distance. I chew on a piece of honey-spiced bread I sneaked from the chef before I slinked out of the kitchen unnoticed to watch the sunset.

Caryan comes striding out. He looks over at me as if, again, sensing my presence. As if he knew I was here all along.

“I’m sorry—I was just taking my five-minute break,” I say hastily, jumping to my feet to run back inside. Run from him.

“Stay.” An order. Cold.

I slowly sink back onto the marble balustrade where I’ve been sitting, hidden in the shade, the stone comfortingly warm under my body. Maybe the only warmth I’d get for a long while. I take a deep breath.

Have it out now.

Because I need to know, and because diplomacy has never been my strong point, I ask, “Are you going to throw me into the dungeon?” I ran around all day feeling like I was living on borrowed time. And I’m tired of waiting.

“What if I do?”

“I would offer you another bargain,” I say quietly. I thought about that during the long shift today. But there is nothing else I can offer that he could want from me, nothing he doesn’t already have.

“Would you?” he asks, stepping closer.

It’s the threat in his tone that makes my head snap up. I find it hard to meet his eyes though after last night.

They’re dangerous, and I try hard not to remember how his magic felt in my mouth. Howhefelt…

The cold way he looked at me while he did it.

The man my mother ran from.

The man who killed his lover without a moment’s hesitation.

My treacherous heart skips a few beats, and I look down again. “Please don’t. I never saw a sunset until I came here, never felt the sun on my skin.” Because it wasalwaysraining. Panic makes speaking hard, but no matter how hard I fight it, my past pushes back. Unwanted. Lyrian. The bunker. My cell. The cold. The darkness. The endless nights, locked away and chained, all alone with my dark, desperate thoughts and only fear to keep me company.

But that time still ravages me, and will probably always, in some moments. A fissure, a crack, running through my soul.

“My lord…” A purring voice behind him makes me jolt up. It’s the dark-haired elf. “Oh,servant,” she says when she sees me, her eyes narrowing. “Since you’re already here, why not bring me some raspberry wine with rose petals.”

I glance at her, briefly repulsed by the haunting similarity in our appearances. She’s wearing a breathtaking blue dress that reveals more than it hides, fluttering around her perfect body. For another bizarre second, she reminds me too much of Sarynx, the eagerness in her eyes, the awe when she looks at Caryan.

I just nod, not trusting my voice. I slither past them and inside, returning outside a few minutes later with her order. The woman doesn’t so much as glance at me when she takes the drink. Neither does Caryan, again entrenched in a conversation with several other fae who have formed a semicircle around them. In the distance, I make out Riven, a beautiful purple-haired pixie woman by his side this time, also lost in conversation. More people have gathered on the terrace now that the sun has set.

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