Page 401 of Kingdoms of Night

His lips parted and he bent his head.

“My Prince,” an elf said, eyes wide and obviously uncomfortable with interrupting.

“Yes?” Viridi’s gaze stayed on Isa’s face.

She was completely lost for him.

The wide-eyed elf cleared his throat. “The young dryads from the northern shore are here to offer fealty to you and the king.”

“Ah, of course.” Viridi looked at Isa. “Would you greet them as my consort?”

“What exactly does consort mean?”

Chuckling, he held out his arm. “It means I am courting you.”

She raised an eyebrow and attempted to appear reluctantly agreeable even though pleasure stirred in her blood. He didn’t need to grow overconfident about her foolishly powerful and sudden feelings for him. She wanted to at least pretend she had some control over the situation. “All right.”

They walked past clusters of elves drinking and playing dice games on smooth tree stumps. A knot of elves laughed around a taller elf who spoke with a lilting voice and whose hands moved around dramatically. Perhaps he was telling a story. Other elves danced, the womenfolk’s gazes flicking to Viridi like they couldn’t help themselves.

Isa understood the feeling, and couldn’t help but grin at the fact that she was the one walking with him.

Another group of elves spoke with Werian and Rhianne about life at the fae court and beyond.

“You should have seen his wyvern,” Rhianne was saying. “His name was Ivar and he was the size of a hawk. But he was a very good fighter…”

Viridi led her to a set of tree-formed thrones. There was one for his father, the king, and one for Viridi. Viridi extended a hand toward the empty throne.

“Please sit, my lady.”

“But what about you?”

The king’s gaze burned into her cheek. She could guess he was evaluating this new relationship with a heaping dose of caution.

With a smile, Viridi turned away from her and set his thorned fingers on the maple beside the thrones. He whispered something that sounded melodic and ancient. Grass-green light flickered around his hand and arm, and the tree began to creak.

A fluttering went through her stomach as the maple bent slightly, like a very large man bowing. A new branch grew from the tree’s middle and reached outward, before lengthening to touch the ground. The branch widened and glimmered with green light until it was a near match to the other two thrones.

“Neat trick,” she said, grinning.

Viridi inclined his head and seemed to be waiting for her to sit. She did so and he settled himself beside her, his arms alighting on the maple arms of the dryad throne.

She almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Not two days ago she’d been a servant well on her way to being a slave. Now, she sat on a throne with the legendary dryad elves. Maybe this was a grand hallucination and soon she’d wake up on the Brunes’ ship. Stars and goddesses, she hoped not.

The line of dryad elves before the thrones looked at the king and the prince expectantly and a hush traveled through the feasting area. Even the fires burned lower in their stone circles as if the magic that made them knew the import of this moment.

The elves began speaking in their tongue, quick and soothing. It was a lovely language even if she didn’t understand a word.

A male elf with a vest made of what looked like large acorn caps knelt and held out his hands palms up. The king stood, approached him, then set his own palms on the supplicant’s. Dryad magic shimmered between the point of contact. Viridi’s father returned to his throne and Viridi stood, doing exactly what the king had done. Then when the glimmer of green magic faded, Viridi gestured to Isa.

Did he expect her to know what to do? She chewed her lip and stood. “I’m Isa Bisette.Enchanté.” She hoped mixing the common tongue with her own Wylfenden language wouldn’t be too confusing.

The elf’s eyes widened briefly, but he bowed to her. “My light is your light, Desired of My Prince.”

Desired of My Prince? Was that…? She swallowed. Was that what he’d asked them to call her? The vision she’d shared with Viridi on the beach before they’d met flashed through her memory and sent heat rushing to her cheeks.

“Thank you,” she said. She had no idea what else to say.

Rhianne nodded to her across the crowd. Werian leaned on a tree and watched, his gaze wary and his purple-black hair catching the light.

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