Page 84 of Cursed Shadows 1

“You will dance with me once you are done breaking your darkling,” he decides—and it is a demand. But one that works in favour of my plan.

To break Daxeel, Prince Affay comes in handy.

Finally, I step back with a sigh and down the wine in the chalice. I slam it onto the tray of a passing servant, then steal my next drink. “Who else would I give that dance to?”

My words are as empty and lifeless as my heart.

Affay is no fool. He senses that. And it brightens his eyes.

“Then I will keep close,” he says, then disappears into the Eternal Dance.

I stay by the wall with the glassless windows, where vines shudder and slink like snakes. It’s closest to the dokkalves who stand rigid and unfriendly down the wall, the dark fae who just watch the festivities on their final night here in Licht.

I don’t look over at them. I don’t scan the faces for the one I yearn to see, but the one I must see crack. He will find me.

And so I stand here, on the edge of the Eternal Dance, far opposite the dais, where Prince Rain sits in his throne. But given the special occasion, some more royals have joined the HighCourt tonight. Princess Skye and Prince Hunt, and even the bedder Prince Ocean, are on their thrones tonight.

Not often more than two watch over the court in one night.

But tonight is unique—our farewell to the dark ones. It’s not really about celebrations, but a political smile as false as the one I will soon use.

Down on the edge of the dais, I spot a throng of nobles and warriors. Pandora is there, she stands with Ronan—and with Eamon.

My heart aches suddenly.

I suck in a sharp breath, then scramble to rebury the feelings, the emotions that threaten to ruin it all. If I let myself embrace the hurt, I might not go through with it.

So I tuck my gaze to my chalice, avoiding the wild and wide-eyed stare of Eamon. The stare that tells me he’s just learned everything from Pandora.

I know he will rush to my side. He will plead with me to not do this. But he is so far across the court, the Eternal Dance his obstacle between us, that he won’t reach me in time.

I polish off the wine with a harsh swig, then toss it aside. The chalice bounces off a cushion against the wall.

I watch it roll onto the marble floor, an unsettled cloud drifting over me.

I’m about to fix my sights on another chalice when a pair of cinnamon eyes catch my gaze. Father stands on the second dais, tucked at the edge with some familiar-faced nobles. Among the nobles is Taroh’s father, Lord Braxis.

Both of them have their sights on me.

So Braxis must know enough to be invested in this moment. Wants to see the fall of both me and my dark one. How sweet this must be for him.

Then father’s gaze lifts—and his mouth twists with a frown of disgust at something over my head.

My insides shiver with a chill.

Might be sick.

I know it’s Daxeel he’s aimed his attention at, Daxeel approaching me from the entrance I hide away from down the far corner of the wall.

The long inhale I take shudders my chest.

Faintly, I’m aware of Affay moving through the Eternal Dance. He’s coming to watch, then steal me away for the dance I half-promised.

Don’t be sick.

I catch Daxeel’s scent moving over me, the scent of polished metal, those weapons forever strapped to his thighs and biceps; almonds from what I suppose is his preferred soap; and undertones of something earthy, but not quite of my land—earthy, but with a hint of fresh ink and the faint copper of blood.

It’s a sharp, striking scent, one I recognize instantly.

---