Abandon.Is that what he thought she was doing? Running away? “That’s not what—”
“No, that’s not what you’re doing. I would never think that, Liss. You have no responsibilities, and I do. It’s as simple as that.” He held a hand against her face, his thumb stroking her cheek and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “I wish I could go with you.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I would love to go with you.”
Music drifted from the gardens and Zylah wished, not for the first time, that things were different. That she wasn’t Raif’s route to Arnir. That it wasn’t him that was to be the one to kill the king. That they could just leave and live their lives. Leave all of this behind. But he wouldn’t walk away from his responsibilities for her, and she knew he shouldn’t have to, no matter how much the selfish part of her wanted him to.
She gently pulled away from him and took his hand as she looked into his eyes. “Let’s go and enjoy the party.” It was a question, more than anything. There was no compromise and enjoying the time they had left together was all they could do.
She wondered if he knew how much she needed these last few days with him to feel normal. With their friends. She wondered if he knew how the decision to leave became harder and harder with each day that passed, and how she questioned why she was leaving at all.
She had to do it. She was of no real use to the uprising, and she was a distraction to Raif. And this was what she’d always wanted, wasn’t it? To see the world. To live. To find out where she came from and if she had any family left. But the longer she spent with Raif, the more she questioned whether it was what she truly wanted.
Chapter Thirty
They followed the orblights out into the gardens, and Zylah gasped at the sight. Saphi was right; the gardens had been completely transformed.
Every tree was strung with lights, every pathway lined with orblights. There were faeries everywhere. Some had antlers, some had scaled faces. Others had delicate wings like Mala’s. They stood around upturned barrels, sat at benches, some danced. Zylah tried her hardest not to stare, but she’d never seen this many faeries in one place.
Tables overflowed with food, and dancers weaved in and out of the crowd, some with ribbons and flowers, some with bells. Zylah still couldn’t see where the music was coming from, but there were lively strings and drums, and a male voice singing about summer love. Joy radiated from every faerie, and it might have been the knowledge that in a matter of days Arnir would be gone, but Zylah couldn’t help but wonder if it was simply that they were happy to be there, together. Safe in this little bubble in the heart of the city, if only for one night.
Raif squeezed her hand as they eased through the crowd and Zylah caught sight of Jilah, hand in hand with Niara and Kihlan.
“It looks wonderful, Jilah,” Zylah said as they approached. “I wish you’d let me help.” She waved a hand at the lights in the trees. It must have taken all day, but she hadn’t been allowed to leave the domes, Jilah’s orders.
The old Fae shrugged. “And ruin the surprise? I’m not so old that I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be awed by something.” He patted Niara on the head as she looked up at him, the lights dancing in her eyes. “Alwen was looking for you, Raif.” He inclined his head towards a table where a few faeries were gathered.
Raif looked down at Zylah as if he was reluctant to go. She’d hoped that the evening would be free of business matters, but she wouldn’t keep Raif from his duties. “Go,” she said, with a gentle squeeze to his hand.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead and said his goodbyes to Jilah and the children. A faerie with antlers had walked up to talk with Jilah, and the children had run off into the party, so Zylah left the old Fae to his friend and set off to explore the food tables.
She toyed with her necklace as she inspected the spread before her. Cheeses, meats, nuts, berries; every space was filled with food. And as appetising as it looked, Zylah’s stomach had other plans. She willed the unease to settle as she hovered a hand over some grapes, debating whether she’d be able to keep them down for the night.
“Don’t believe what you’ve read about the food,” a male voice said beside her.
Zylah smiled and looked up to meet Holt’s gaze. “Oh?”
“It’s harmless,” he said, biting into a brin fruit. He wore a notched black jacket, with fine buttons at the front over fitted black trousers, and under one arm he held a long bundle of cloth. “The wine, on the other hand, that truly will have you dancing the night away. It can make you forget who you are, for a while.” He discarded the brin core in a bucket beside the table and smoothed down the front of his jacket. Gold threads caught the orblights, and Zylah could make out some of the fine stitching down the front, a little at the cuffs. Understated, but elegant. If she hadn’t already known he was a prince, she’d have wondered at that moment if he was one.
Perhaps it was something he wanted to forget. Zylah understood what that was like. “That doesn’t sound like a bad thing.”
Holt frowned. “No. It doesn’t.” His eyes lowered to her necklace for a moment, and then he surveyed the table of food intently.
“I’m sorry,” Zylah said quietly. She wrapped a hand around an arm, chewing her bottom lip.
“For what?”
“For bringing Raif to the tavern. It’s your home and I—” She glanced up to see him frowning, but he didn’t meet her gaze.
“Who you take to your bed is no concern of mine.” The words were cold, emotionless. He dragged a hand through his hair and sighed, finally glancing down at her. “I’m glad you feel at home here, Zylah.”
She willed her cheeks not to flush. It shouldn’t have mattered. She knew he didn’t see her that way, and guilt washed over her for a brief moment. She rested a hand against the necklace Raif had given her, staring at the food before them. “Why did you send Raif to the gardens that day to look for me?”
“Raif has always had a good relationship with Jilah, it seemed like a logical choice.”
Because she was too much trouble. He’d said as much before they’d even entered Virian. She toyed with the necklace again, looking for Raif amongst the crowd.I wish I could go with you.She knew it was going to be harder to leave than she’d let herself acknowledge.
She followed Holt’s gaze to a trio of dancers, flower crowns in their hair and ribbons in their hands, spiralling through the party-goers. One rang a bell in time to the beat of the music, and Zylah cleared her throat. “I hear it’s customary to give gifts tonight.” She reached inside her little pouch for a small box and handed it to him.
He looked at her, surprise lighting up his eyes for a moment before the expression faded, and not for the first time that night, Zylah felt embarrassed by her choice of gift.