Page 83 of Throne of Dreams
Shay watched him without saying a word and waited silently for an explanation.
“Ciara paid me an unexpected visit…in my bedchamber.” Remembering the look on Maeve’s face, the utter disbelief and devastation, nearly sent him spiraling into the darkness inside him. “Maeve walked in just as her dress decided to fall from her shoulders.”
Shay’s eyes, so similar to Maeve’s, skimmed the crowd and landed upon the High Queen in question. She stood beneath a palm tree, a frosty ice queen covered in pearls and wearing an excessively dark lip color, surrounded by starstruck males.
Shay’s lip curled in disgust. “Bitch probably did it on purpose.”
“She did,” Tiernan confirmed.
The High Prince turned back to face him. “As much as it pains me to say this, I’m trusting you to keep her happy. If you hurt her, Iwillcome for you.”
Tiernan sat there, dumbfounded, as Shay stalked off. It had been many moons since he’d been insulted, and no one ever had the audacity to threaten him within his own Court, yet…he understood Shay’s implications. He accepted the warning without retaliation. He would’ve defended Ceridwen in a similar manner. And also, because as much as he hated to admit it, Shay was right.
Tiernan had hurt Maeve.
Her pain and anger were all because of him.
He could only pray to the heavens it wasn’t irrevocable; he would fall on his knees and beg for forgiveness if he must. And even though she wasn’t near, and his mind was silent save for his own thoughts, he could’ve sworn he heard Maeve laughing at him.
ChapterTwenty-Four
Maeve avoided Tiernan the entire next day. He sought her out multiple times in the morning, but she refused to see him. She spent the afternoon in Niahvess with Lir, visiting the Spring fae who, despite being beaten down and broken during their escape from Suvarese, remained upbeat given their current circumstances.
After ensuring the Spring fae were in good spirits and not in need of anything, Maeve made her way to Imogen’s dress shop to pick up her gown.
Imogen ushered her into a dressing room and when Maeve slipped into the gown, her heart almost stopped. It was remarkable.
Maeve stepped out of the dressing room, ready to show Lir and ask his opinion.
She had her answer when his silver gaze locked onto her and his jaw fell open. He stared at her, blinked as though remembering who stood before him, then snapped his mouth shut. Even Imogen gasped.
She clutched one hand over her heart. “You look…”
“Captivating,” Lir finished for her. “Absolutely captivating.”
Maeve’s cheeks heated. “Thank you, commander.”
He nodded.
Imogen clapped her hands together. “I cannot wait to see the High King’s face once he gets his fill of you.”
“Him and everyone else in attendance.” Approval illuminated Lir’s face. “They won’t be able to take their eyes off you.”
Maeve thanked Imogen, and the darling fae refused any kind of payment. “Just knowing you’ll be wearing my creation is all the payment I need, my lady.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to—”
“High Princess, it was my highest honor to make this gown for you.” Imogen curtsied. “But if anyone asks—”
“I’ll send them to you.” Maeve took the faerie’s hand and squeezed gently. “You deserve all the praise, Imogen.”
The fae blushed furiously, and with her new gown for Sunatalis in tow, Maeve and Lir took their leave and headed back to the palace.
Maeve took her time preparing for the celebration. She soaked in her bathtub filled with silky bubbles and fragrant water. She applied a lightly scented oil all over her skin, so it glowed and smelled faintly of sweetened spice and earthy woods. After she styled every individual curl on her head, Deirdre arrived to help her dress.
“Good heavens, child.” The older woman sighed and placed Maeve’s new crown on top of her head. “You look stunning. Positively breathtaking.”
“Thank you, Deirdre.” A slight flush spread across Maeve’s chest and Deirdre handed her the intricate mask.
