Page 33 of Immortal Sins
13
AUDIENCE
The hallways of the Seelie palace are paved with checkered tiles. Autumn-themed, metallic leaves form a limitless mosaic on the walls. Rows and rows of windows brighten both sides of a large drawing room where dozens of courtiers enjoy a respite from the harsh, midday heat, most of them oblivious to our presence.
Platters of fresh fruits, fragrant cheeses, and bubbly wines are being passed around by mortal servants in blue livery. Fae women in lavish gowns refresh themselves with wide decorative fans, each of them displaying mesmerizing textures and patterns. Glittering powders highlight their chiseled cheekbones and high brows.
My chest heaves. The black satin strains against my cleavage, and a hard band forms in my belly, but we mesh in well with the courtiers, and the guards pay us no mind.
Mortals live in farms and villages while the Fae gobble cakes and paint their faces…The frugal lifestyle I witnessed on our way here came straight from medieval times.
Disparities exist in the mortal world, but Faerie is on a different level. A sting of jealousy stretches to life in my blood. So much opulence and waste. So much beauty. So much time to sample an endless menu of pleasures and delicacies while the mortals work their fingers bloody to keep a roof over their heads. Not slaves, according to Cole, but do they truly have a choice?
Flynn guides me away from the crowd through a garden peppered with human-sized statues of embracing couples. There are no fig leaves to cover the men’s…ample crotches. Statues in the Vatican didn’t have them before the Renaissance, but theloudnessof the pieces still shocks me.
The guards at the entrance let us pass without a second glance, but as we stride deeper and deeper into the palace, we see fewer servants and courtiers.
Copper and brass threads adorn the windows, entwined to form beautiful, eerie trees that stretch as high as the ceiling. The decorations cast hypnotic shadows on the ground, as if the forged forest lives and breathes, coming alive with each step we take.
The long hallway leads to a thick, gold-plated door flanked by a nasty-looking sprite. The guard holds up his sword at our approach.
“I demand an audience with the prince,” Flynn announces.
Blinding light reverberates off his smooth skin, the Fae glamor on full display, his fresh white cotton shirt molding to his upper body like a very snug glove.
The sprite appraises Flynn, then me, as though he’s gauging our beauty to judge whether or not we are worthy. After a few seconds, he turns up his bony nose, and the wings at his back twitch. “The prince is not receiving visitors at the moment.”
We haven’t made it as far as the entrance to the throne room only to turn back now. Magic skitters over my heated skin, and I almost blast the guard out of our way.
Flynn smirks. “The prince himself asked me to bring his new favorite to court. You will not deprive him of her company, will you?”
The soldier tilts his head to the side, his brows furrowed like he’s only now seeing the black fabric barely covering my body. “Proceed.” The lewd gaze crawls over my skin. To him, I’m nothing but fuckable eye candy.
Thick gold panels swing open quietly, and I freeze, my right hand flat on the doorframe. Shiny golden patterns embossed in the wood prickle my fingers.
In front of me, a narrow, carpeted runway leads to an altar where a dark Fae stretches over a chaise lounge. Two courtesans dressed in white hover around him. One of them—an older man—refills his cup while the other—a young woman—massages his feet.
Dazzles of Fae magic radiate from the metal crown on top of the Fae’s head, the same colors as his earrings. Brass, copper, and silver nuances glimmer across his dark curls.
A black embroidered jacket highlights his large shoulders. Apparently sewn from the night sky itself, it sucks the light around him into the deepest and darkest abyss. The fabric shimmers with a nefarious energy.
Two burly men in uniforms stand at the back of the room, each of them holding a heavy sword.
Back at the Academy, his title always sounded a bit silly and self-aggrandizing, but here…
He’s the prince of Faerie.
Fae magic smothers me from all sides. Eyes on fire and spine ablaze, I choke on the wretched taste of my mortality—my commonness. The sting of Cole’s beauty grates my gut.
A Fae woman with a blood-red halter top and a bare stomach whispers something in the prince’s ear. A diamond tiara sits on top of her head.
Flynn walks up to the front of the room in long strides and kneels before them solemnly.
There are several other people dispersed across the room. A stuffy looking sprite and a pink-glittered pixie glance in my direction, but I’m stuck in place. What am I doing here? My breath catches in my throat, and I cannot bear to look at Cole, or the woman next to him, or even the mortal slaves at his command.
Nails digging into the golden accents of the doorframe, I avert my gaze obstinately to the ground.
The guard standing next to me snarls. “Will you not greet your prince?”
