Page 32 of Queen of Ever

Iwasgoingtowear a hole in the floor at the rate I was pacing.It was taking everything I had to keep myself confined to this room, to turn when I reached the door and go back the other way.If I opened that door, I would do something stupid.Like go and find Imogen and demand to know what the fuck was going on.I’d have to go storming through the Seelie quarters to do that, which would create a scene and all the effort I’d spent on keeping myself from chasing after her in the first place would have been for nothing.

That’s what I kept telling myself, but it was hard to focus on that when Solas had just paraded his intention to marrymymate all over the opening of the conclave when he’d offered her up as the second pledge in the bloodletting.If I hadn’t just bound myself to peace on pain of being thrown across the room, I would have had him by the throat right then.Still might have, if Briyala hadn’t anticipated my reaction and intervened, hissing, ‘Get a hold of yourself.Think of your mate.You don’t know what her part in it is.’

And I did think of her.I thought of the look on her face, that stricken uncertainty, and realised I had no idea what our time apart had been for her.Didn’t know whether she’d been in some kind of arrangement with the Seelie King from the start, didn’t know if anything that had passed between us had been real.Didn’t know how seeing me made her feel.And maybe it wouldn’t have been enough to cool the burn of possessive fury if she’d gone to Solas or shown any preference for him, but she didn’t.She returned to the other side of the room, far away from the Seelie King, to stand beside his sister.And the way she glanced across at me had so much confusion and misery in it that I clenched my fists and held my damn tongue.

But that didn’t mean I hadn’t been stewing over the whole event since the opening formalities had ended.And it didn’t mean I wasn’t going to take the first opportunity presented to find Imogen so I could get some answers to these questions.

I glanced with loathing at the half-face mask lying on the table.There was something sly in the bend of its expression, something vicious in the sharply upturned eyes and hooked beak.Even lying there, it muddled my thoughts, the magic woven into it working to disguise the table by scrambling my associations with tables, making it difficult to connect the four legs and flat top with what I knew tables to look like.It would do the same to me when I put it on.

The door opened without a knock and I turned on the intruder, ready to vent some of my frustration before I found Ethan prancing into the room dressed in something that looked like little more than a patchwork of leaves and—of course—copious amounts of glitter.

‘Don’t come near me in all that,’ I growled, eyeing the shimmering silver dust already coating the floor behind him.

He rolled his eyes.‘Some glitter would do you good.I’m sure you could still look utterly miserable while sparkling.’

‘What do you want?’

‘I want to know what your plan is.Other than moping about assuming the worst.’

‘Killing Solas in his sleep.’

Ethan placed a hand on a jutted hip.‘As much as I would love to see that, your little bloodletting ceremony makes it a rather unattainable goal.’The oath we’d sworn bound us to peace while it was in place.Any attempt at violence would end in being launched through the air to be dumped several feet away from whoever the aggressor was trying to attack.

I dropped onto the chair by the table and scrubbed at my hair with my fingers.‘I don’t know.I can’t think clearly.He’s going to marry her.He walked her up as his second in place of Marietta.And she complied.What am I supposed to do?’

‘Oh, I don’t know, maybe ask her what’s going on?At least now you’ll have the chance.She’ll be at the feast.’

I glared at the mask.‘If she’ll talk to me.If I can even find her before the night is over.’I could feel the thrumming thread of our bond gently tugging at me, but I had no idea if it would be enough to lead me to her in the whirl and revelry of the night to come.I suspected it wouldn’t.

With a flick of his wrist, Ethan waved something in my direction.A flash of sliver.‘Lucky for you, I’m more than just a pretty face.I’ve already got an answer to that.’

I took it from him, rubbed it between my fingers.‘What is this supposed to be?’

‘Look for the woman with the matching ribbon on her wrist.And don’t come back to this room until the two of you have sorted your shit out, for fuck’s sake.And yes—’ he said as I held the sparkling scrap of silver before my eyes.‘It’s glittery.’

The mask sat uncomfortably on my face, the magic numbing my skin, reacting against my own with an occasional fizz.I wove through the growing throng of courtiers flitting through the crumbling halls of the old castle, all masked, all impossible to distinguish between Seelie and Unseelie.The tang of magic hung in the air, the prickle of it running over my mind every time I fixed on any particular guest, misleading my thoughts and tangling my associations.But I stared at everyone I encountered all the same, fighting against the forced forgetting.I repeated the wordblondin my mind, clung to it, and when a fae woman in sapphire blue with light-coloured hair darted past, I instinctively reached for her.She turned, her white half-mask concealing whether she was surprised or displeased as I scanned her face, fighting to draw my memories together.Her eyes were wrong.If I didn’t know it from the lack of pull I felt towards her, I knew it from the conviction that those weren’t Imogen’s eyes.

‘Sorry,’ I muttered, releasing her.Her answering giggle followed me as I pushed past, towards the enormous arched doorway before me, jagged with ruin and traced with veins of glowing faelight.

The steady pound of drums beckoned us all forwards, growing louder as the scene beyond came into view.An ancient sprawl of winding galleries and cavernous halls, gaping open to the whirl of the night sky by virtue of the collapsed ceiling.The stone was crumbling and crawling with vines that had only been cleared away so far as to allow for passage through.In some places, rubble and stone was piled in heaps, dancing with the shadows cast by torches and glittering with glasses perched on dangerously perilous ledges, offering all flavours and colours of fae wine, the sort that could lock the drinker in a waking nightmare, or make them glow bright green and float a foot off the floor, or fall in love for a night.

The churning sea of masked fae pouring into the space quickly swept me up, drawing me into the bowels of the old castle, where the hall sometimes became a series of winding tunnels branching off from each other before curling back to join the main fray again.And of course there was food everywhere.Tables of all sizes were crammed into corners or laid against stretches of wall space, piled high with sugared plums and gooseberry tarts, pickled nightshade, stewed roses, whole fowl glazed with spiced honey and stuffed with chestnuts.

As I passed below another stone archway, I eyed the human woman hanging from a swing above, her wrists wrapped in delicate golden chains as she sang with a clear, high voice that resonated with the drumming.A string quartet was clustered below her, unmasked, since they were human as well.All wore the same gold chains, but they were unnecessary as none would try to run.These weren’t changelings.They would have been temporarily stolen for their talents.They’d be drunk on magic the entire time they were here, and when they weren’t required any longer they’d be dumped back through a portal to be found wandering in the human world, their memories scrambled, unable to distinguish between what had been real and what had been a dream.

Which was lucky for them.At least a conclave didn’t involve a hunt.

Someone caught me, giggled as she draped arms around my neck.For an instant, I hoped it was Imogen.I hoped she’d found me.The hope was dashed when I realised this woman had snarls of red curls spilling down her shoulders and I quickly extracted myself.Stupid, to think it might be as easy as that.Thatshe’dsomehow findme, recognise me even in the mask.Yet, I couldfeelthat she was here.Somewhere.It was impossible to pinpoint, in a space so stuffed full of Seelie and Unseelie and magic.Ethan’s silver ribbon had seemed much more promising upstairs, far from the chaotic pulse of two fae courts gifted a night of anonymity.

I was drawn toward an antechamber that still had its roof, where a crowd had gathered and laughter occasionally sounded loud enough to be heard over the drumming.I pushed through, looking for a silver ribbon, trying to follow that faintly thrumming pull that told me Imogen was somewhere near.

In the centre of the room stood a collection of glass boxes, each housing a lesser fae creature.One stood with clawed hands pressed against the sides of the box, as though trying to brace it up, and another sat cross-legged on the floor, blinking up at the crowd through curled tusks.Yet another was curled in a ball on the floor, translucent wings trembling.

‘Well none of you are going to escape at this rate, which will be no fun for those of us who’ve placed bets,’ said a lithe male in a suit half in green, half in polka dotted orange.The crowd settled, voices quieting as interest turned to him.‘Pay close attention this time.Are you ready?Here’s your next riddle.I dance without feet, I sing without voice, I come when I will and leave you no choice.I weave through the night, invisible thread, yet if you can see me, I’ll fill you with dread.What am I?’

‘I don’t know!’cried the one bracing the walls, her voice muffled by the glass.‘Please, give me a task instead!I’m no good at riddles!’

‘Come on, now, you’re going to lose your standing room when the box shrinks this time.All you need is one little answer and you’re free.’

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