Page 78 of Trials of Dusk and Dreams
“Can I . . .?” I let my question trail off as another round of applause erupts, and Irisa sashays off the dais toward us. I didn’t bring the charm that provides a secrecy barrier around us.
“Did you know,” she says, “that acorns bring luck and prosperity?” Peablossom smiles with pride before licking her thumb and wiping my cheek like my mother used to. She gives a self-satisfied sigh and tells me to mingle before my luck runs out. Then she leaves to corral my Radiants into doing their duty and voting mindfully.
Not wanting to stand there and be gawped at beside Irisa, I decide to head to the refreshment table. I catch glimpses of my friends’ faces, still waiting further back in line. Awe. Confusion. And something else—something bitter they’re trying to hide that makes my stomach drop. Guilt hits me like a physical blow. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. We were meant to be in this together, and now . . . now I’ve left them behind. I wanted tostand with them as a team. Instead, I’ve been elevated above them, thrust into a spotlight I never wanted.
At the refreshment table, I’m stopped by Captain Sorrel and Briar, congratulating me on a job well done. More Radiants start moving toward me. Their eager eyes quicken my pulse. As the captain continues to ponder about the intricacies of my prank, I smile and nod vacantly but reach behind my back and fumble around the table. I’m sure I saw a butter knife moments ago. My fingers hit something cool, hard, and long.Success. I quickly hide it within the folds of my skirt.
“Excuse me,” I blurt, fanning my face with my free hand. “I need to visit the . . .”
I don’t finish because I’m already rushing toward the exit, aiming for the maze, hoping Peablossom is right and my luck won’t run out. Good luck rarely smiles upon me. I may as well make the most of it.
Chapter 32
Bodin
Nothing is worse than feeling like sinking while standing on solid ground. My inner turmoil comes not from the argument unfolding before me but from being forced to remain here and listen to tedious bewailing while lecherous suck-ups mob our Shadow. I itch to leave. Especially now she wears something other than my clothing. How will other fae know to back the fuck off without my scent surrounding her?
Earl Larkspur of the House of Stone, face flushed with indignation, will not shut up. Two nobles eavesdrop nearby, their eyes gleaming with barely concealed interest. Perhaps I can use scaring them off as an excuse to leave.
“Unacceptable,” Earl Larkspur hisses at us. “Days of inaction. The old code—broken. There’s an order.”
Legion’s jaw tightens. “I understand?—”
“Do you?” The Earl’s voice rises. “Nightmares invade Heliodor. In three days, we’ve caught?—”
“Don’t lecture us,” Emrys snaps, leather creaking as he clenches his fists. “We know the situation.”
Tension thickens the air like a poisonous fog.
“This isn’t the place for such conversations,” I tell the Earl.
He ignores me and fixes Legion with a dark look. “Where else, when you banish us from your keep?”
I scan the ostentatious ballroom for a glimpse of silver hair, hyper-aware of potential eavesdroppers. Those two nobles must see their death on my face because they quickly scurry away. We are not free, though. Puck breathes the same air, and his presence is a constant threat.
The Earl’s words chill me: “It’s as if this kingdom crumbles in Titania’s absence.”
Frustration knots in my chest. I should patrol, especially with the Baleful Hunt absent. Babysitting our Shadow is having a knock-on effect. Legion rubs his temples, shadows deepening under his eyes. He hasn’t fed, likely too busy in my absence and giving his rations to Varen or Styx. Our Sixth’s insatiable appetite unnerves me, and Legion coddles him—lets him get away with everything. Even now, he’s managed to slip away from his duties.
A nearby lord’s laugh grates against my nerves. The Ivory Palace’s opulence suffocates.
“Stray Nightmares plague Avorlorna,” the Earl says, folding his arms. “Heliodorsuffers most. Thirty good souls lost to Nightmares from unfrozen water gates in days.”
I clench my jaw, bristling at the loss of life.
The Earl continues, voice rising, “Without the Baleful Hunt’s regular sweeps of Heliodor territory, the House of Stone is vulnerable. We are the kingdom’s source of resonance stones. What would happen if we suddenly lose our communication network during a war?”
I snort. “You think to question our intelligence?”
“The Shining Host must address this charlatan’s suggestions,” the Earl gestures at Puck’s grandstanding on the dais, his fury barely contained. “Martial law should be imposedduring Titania’s slumber. Either you agree, or I challenge Goodfellow to a duel tonight.”
Emrys's eyes flash with a dangerous glint, his voice a low, menacing purr. “Tread carefully, you preening peacock. Threaten us again, and you’ll learn the true meaning of peril.”
The Earl’s skin pales, and the scent of his fear blooms. It is truly interesting how these Folk harbor fear of us Sluagh deep within their bones when their minds recall nothing of our origins. Then again, it makes sense. When my mind clouds, my body still remembers certain things—my hunger for blood, a persevering feeling I am not eating well, and the need to be with my hive. I inadvertently search for Willow, but the rest of the exhibitors seem to be winding up and spilling from the dais, filling the room.
Legion calmly tells the Earl, “Martial law during the Gentle Interlude is a fool’s dream and perilously close to talk of treason. We must prove without a doubt the risk to our safety is real.” He pauses for effect. “The increase in attacks could be from one terror or multiple.”
“You know as well as I do that it is not a single, rogue Terror.”
