Page 67 of A Palace of Smoke & Mirrors
Something in his tone of voice was inherently flattering, as if he could not entertain a scenario in which he did not worship and serve me. It made my cheeks flush, and I inclined my head to acquiesce—and to conceal the colour of my face.
“Excuse us,” he said to our silent companions. With a reverence I had never beheld, Wrenlock led me by hand onto the dance floor.
I decided Morgoya could wait, and I wanted to keep Batre out of the whole thing as much as possible.
“Why is the fog enchanted?” I questioned, as we found a space to stand together amongst twirling couples. If I didn’t pose the question quickly, I risked being led astray once again.
“It is?” Wrenlock took both of my hands in his and scrunched up his nose. “I’ve never actually asked about it. He doesn’t like to be pressed on certain topics, and I don’t like to fight with him if I can help it.”
“It’s enchanted to guard the palace,” I stated plainly. “Aren’t you even the least bit curious about it?”
He shook his head. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? An extra measure of protection for the most important building in Caeludor, second only to the Temple of All across the whole of Faerie. Especially with the tension between Courts and the Malum sending out hordes of caenim and locusts.”
The most important building in Caeludor.
This palace—this city—is all I have that I am willing to give.
Wrenlock didn’t know that the palace was crumbling and Lucais was hiding it beneath the fog.
“Do you know about the lapsus?”
His dark gaze snapped back to my face from where it had drifted off over the top of my head, an unreadable expression crossing his own. “Yes,” he answered quietly.
Nodding, I chewed on my lower lip. “That’s where you both went off to when you left me at the House, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” The response was immediate, but his voice was wary.
I made a quick mental note to ask Lucais if that was why the House’s enchantment had come and gone, leaving me alone with Delia at certain times, even though I had a feeling I already knew the answer. At the time, I had thought the House was shunning me. If my updated theory was correct, Lucais had simply been repurposing his powers to wrestle with the lapsus.
“Do you think it’s Blythe?” I pressed, bringing my attention back to the man before me.
“Aura…” Wrenlock clicked his tongue, then sighed. “Doyouthink it’s Blythe?”
Peering up at him through my lashes, I said, “How am I supposed to know?”
The music switched to a much softer, romantic melody marked by the flourishing echoes of piano and a low, thrumming base drum. Wrenlock slipped his other hand around my waistas if my body held a mould made only for him, and we began to dance.
The music played without vocals, and the voice in my head sang out in sweet protest as I tensed my muscles in an attempt to resist the familiarity of his touch.He never meant to hurt you. It wasn’t his fault.
He is not my mate. He was never my mate. It wasn’t real.I chanted the words in my mind like a protection spell.
The voice was unmoved.But you fell in love with him anyway.
Falling was the right word for it because the action was violent and painful. For both of them.
Even so, I resisted the accusation.
None of this is real.
Wrenlock took the lead in the steps of a dance that vaguely resembled a waltz—quite literally sweeping me off my feet as he glided around the room in a deliberate and wide circle, gripping my waist with one hand as he pressed my body into his own, and holding my posture in the correct form with a strong arm outstretched and hand gripping mine.
He moved with the skilled grace of a professional and expert-level speed. I found my body gravitating closer to his for the sake of feeling balanced as he whirled us around the room, between half a dozen other couples who kept stealing glances at the blurry phantoms spinning through time and space like asteroids on a predetermined collision course.
When the song changed, we slowed to match its languorous cadence in one place on the floor, but my head continued to spin.
“You were going to the Forest,” Wrenlock murmured softly, tilting his head to speak into my ear above the music. “Weren’t you?”
A blissful wave of dizziness rolled over me, blanketing me with a delicious feeling of warmth and safety. I bent to rest my forehead against his shoulder. “How did you know?”
