Page 66 of A Palace of Smoke & Mirrors
The palace was still largely empty as Wrenlock took me down to the courtyard, but I did spy a few different kinds of faeries floating around. Some looked as if they were working, moving things from one place to the next, and others werecertainly guests there for the celebrations, wearing elaborate clothing and decked out in crystals and jewels, flowers and foliage.
That was the main difference I noticed between the party thrown for the Court of Wind in the House compared to the one happening in Caeludor—the amount of clothing the attendees were wearing, and the botanical and mineral adornments they modelled.
We stepped through a wide doorway embellished with flowing chiffon curtains, and a wash of cool night air swept over me through the open windows and doors on the other side of the observatory. I smelled the sweet scent of frangipanis parading through the gentle breeze.
Music floated across the space. The sound seemed to be coming from the grossly oversized daffodils planted in glass pots in one corner of the room. It was strangely electronic with synth sounds and alternative rock influences. There were both couples and larger groups of faeries clustered together, dancing with vigour or languidly swaying to and fro with their arms linked or locked around one another as orbs of faelight circled them like they were figurines inside a snow globe.
Laid out as a courtyard, the observatory floor was carved from pale white marble, and the light was gloomy, adopting a bluish haze from the orbs bobbing beneath the restriction of the glass rooftop slicing against the low-lying clouds. Vines and overly large leaves partially consumed wooden logs, laid out with faerie food on silver platters and pitchers of faerie wine between red-and-white mushrooms and white daisies, set in a circle along the outskirts.
“Drink?” Wrenlock offered, nodding towards one of the tables.
I nodded and mouthed for him to bring me water instead of risking any of my remaining chances on faerie wine.
When he strode away from me to gather our drinks, I took a deep breath and searched the assembly for any recognisable faces. It appeared that mostly High Fae were attending the party in the observatory, but the High King was not among them. I doubted that I’d see much of him for the rest of the night after our encounter in the destroyed wing of the palace. He’d distracted me with sweet nothings, and I’d let him walk away without answering my questions.
Again.
It was time to start asking other people.
I found Morgoya and Batre on the dance floor together, swaying from side to side with their arms locked around each other. The sight gave me flashbacks to the night in the House when I’d first met Batre. I’d put my foot in my mouth by assuming they were soulmates, and I’d felt guilty about it ever since, but to look at them together and see the way they held one another made it such an easy mistake to make.
They were perfect.
They looked like they were made for each other, and that thought was both exciting and devastating for me to entertain. The stars had stayed out of their relationship, and I wished I could know whether that was the right choice.
What would happen if Batre met her soulmate? Does she have one? Could she ever be happier than she looks right now, on the dance floor swept up in her lover’s gaze? Is there any proof that soulmates are promises of happiness?
I didn’t know. I didn’t have anyone to ask, and I’d left my copy ofThe Sins of Starsback at the House, so I couldn’t even reread certain sections of Livia’s storyline to contemplate it in fiction.
As if my watchful gaze had called for them, the two women turned to look at me.
Batre smiled widely, and I returned it, making an effort to include Morgoya in the gesture. But the High Lady frowned, a quizzical look crossing her green, feline eyes before she glanced around and pulled back from her dance partner. She tugged Batre off the floor by a single hand, and I squared my shoulders, bracing myself for the interaction.
Unease sent trembles all the way down to my fingertips. We’d interacted pleasantly in the hallway twice earlier in the day, but she looked as if she’d forgotten that, and I didn’t know how to forgive someone. I’d never done it before.
Do I just say the words?
You’re forgiven. Please don’t do that again because it really hurt.
“Aura?” Morgoya’s sweet, lilting voice was brimming with a dubious curiosity, but it reached me at the same time as Wrenlock returned with my water.
“Here you go,” he said, handing it over to me. Instinctively, my gaze switched to his face. Wrenlock nodded to the two women who joined us to the side of the dance floor. “Morgoya, Batre. Doesn’t she look gorgeous in that dress?”
Batre gave me a look I felt like a physical touch as she nodded in agreement, but Morgoya stared at Wrenlock like he had carried over a bad smell. He ignored her, and within seconds, the creases smoothed out between her eyebrows and she nodded, too.
I tried to catch her eyes, but she averted them. There was an awkwardness in the air as Morgoya stared off into the distance, and I knew it was probably due to my behaviour in the dining room. I also knew I’d need to do more than wear the dress she sent me to communicate that our fight was over, but I’d need to do that in a less crowded space.
Without meaning to, I sighed because I missed my friend.
Morgoya had been the recipient of my unbridled trust, despite her predisposition to dishonesty, and I ached to be able to give that to someone again. I wanted to talk to her about what I’d gone through in the human world, but there was a crack in the floor between us. I had to be careful where I stepped and what I shared because she’d spoken so openly to me in the light of day while keeping me perfectly cloaked in the dark, and that made her more clever and calculated than either of the men had ever been.
I wanted to be part of that with her, but I was hesitant.
Wrenlock took my hand in his.
Batre opened her mouth like she was going to break the ice with it, but the music changed.
“My Queen.” Wrenlock raised the hand of mine he held in his own and kissed the top of it, his eyes darting towards the dance floor with a twinkling invitation.
