Page 105 of Destined for the Fae King

“More humans here is good,” the dowager reminds him. “No matter the reason.”

“Do any of you know?” the king asks the others present.

They all shake their head, even Tharin. Funny, I would have thought nothing escaped his notice. Stranger still, there’s a hint of a smile on his face, and it doesn’t look sarcastic or forced at all. The oddness of it makes me want to rub at my chest.

Other than a quick response to his brother, Lysandir has remained quiet but attentive, almost like he worries one word out of his mouth might destroy this tentative hope we have or send our fates tumbling off course. But he’s a solid, reassuring presence at my side.

And mine. My God, he’s really mine.

“None of this is going as I’d hoped.” Vasilius shifts forward in his chair. “I’d have you two keep out of sight until The Choosing is over. Be together if you wish, but stay in the royal quarters. Order the maids not to talk about this. I’d have it kept quiet.”

A sensible suggestion. Finally.

“The other women may worry. We will need to tell them something,” Elaine says.

“Fine.” He waves his hand. “They can know.” He stands, his voice rising as he does. “Do tell them that the rules of The Choosing are to be obeyed from here on out. If their heart lies elsewhere, fine, I shall soon discover that from them. But they are to keep such feelings to themselves until this is done. I won’t have more of this.” He gestures to us.

The others might be jealous, but they can get their happy endings too. Adeline and her guard. Alex and Grace. I hum with excitement at the thought of telling them, of encouraging them to be honest with the king when he asks. Things really are turning out better than I ever dreamed possible.

“You’re certain of your choice,” Vasilius asks his brother.

Lysandir grins down at me. “As certain as anything in my life.”

“She is a lovely dancer,” the king remarks. He tilts his head to the side, smirking, waiting to see how his blow lands.

But Lysandir, if he’s bothered by the king’s jab, doesn’t show it.

“I’m sure she is,” he replies evenly.

Vasilius frowns. “Not a great kisser though.”

“Vasilius,” Elaine hisses and lifts her cane, almost like she might whack him with it, but thinks better of it.

“I disagree.” Lysandir cups my cheek, capturing my full attention. “I think she’s a wonderful kisser.” He pulls me close and leans in, and I think he means to prove it right there.

But Vasilius groans, and Lysandir halts, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“Have the decency not to do it in front of me.” He thumps back down into his seat. “It’s a pity you know, you were one of my favorites after…” His eyes close as if he’s in pain, and his hand balls into a fist on the armrest of the chair.

After Bailey. The weight of her loss makes the room a little dimmer, and I lean into Lysandir for comfort.

“Go, both of you. Take your happiness elsewhere,” the king commands.

Lysandir doesn’t wait before he shifts us out of the room.

Chapter 40

Iexpect Lysandir toshift us to his room—or near it, since the area is warded against shifting. However, a few heartbeats later, we appear somewhere completely new to me. Wooden walls made of thick beams support a high, thatched roof. A low, wide bed sits just off to our left, its forest green coverings neatly made. Fae lamps linger nearby but are out now. We don’t need the light though. The wall opposite the bed provides plenty. Sheer curtains waft in the breeze where they are pulled back on either side of the large opening that walks out onto a wooden balcony and wide-open view beyond.

“Where are we?” I gape at the room around us.

The whole thing reminds me a bit of those over-water bungalows I’ve ogled in travel commercials, but instead of on the water, we appear to be high up in a mountain or something. A few trees with thick leaves and draping vines are visible at the periphery, but otherwise, all I can see is sky.

“A private getaway near Calida,” he replies. His thumb rubs the back of my hand. “No one will bother us here.”

The heated look in his eyes has my legs pressing together to stifle a sudden surge of desire.

“We’re together,” I say, still in disbelief that it’s real.

---