Page 240 of Cursed Evermore
We danced until the end of the song. I was so lost in him I hadn't realized the music had stopped until a wiry-looking male approached us. He seemed wary of Wolfe as he interrupted.
“Your Highness, your uncle has requested your presence in the royal circle,” he said with a slight dip of his head.
Wolfe sighed, his frustration returning. “I'll be there in a minute.”
The male bowed again and backed away. Wolfe looked at me, then released me.
“I'll be back as soon as I can.” He reached for my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Okay. I'll... be here,” I replied, nervously fumbling with one of the diamantes on my dress.
A faint grin tipped his lips, then he turned and left. I watched him walk through the crowd as people parted and bowed to allow him passage.
Arielle appeared at my side seconds later, playfully bumping against my shoulder. “That was nice.” She nodded toward Wolfe and smiled wistfully.
“It was.” I tried not to smile too widely.
“I'm sorry you had to dance with Dreynthor, though.” She seethed, wrinkling her nose. “I hope he didn't say anything too terrible. You looked really upset. If Wolfe hadn't gone to rescue you, I would have.”
“Dreynthor was awful. But I'm okay.” I didn't tell her the truth, either, because I didn't want to cause trouble.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I'm fine.” I waved a dismissive hand in the air, brushing the angst from my mind.
“He is an absolute prick with a stick shoved up his ass. Just forget him.”
I chuckled at her colorful insult. It amazed me how quickly she could shift from sweet and ladylike to vicious fishwife in the span of seconds.
“Consider him forgotten.” I flicked my wrist again and masked my inner turmoil with a smile. “What about you? Is your plan all set for Bastian?”
“Yes.” Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced up at the royal circle to where Bastian stood with Wolfe, Alaric, and Garrick. Bastian was talking to Alaric but must have either felt her gaze on him or known she was staring. He glanced back at her and winked. Arielle turned to me and squealed. “I have him right where I want him.”
I raised my brows and giggled. “I can see that. How exactly are you going to carry out this plan of yours?” She hadn't shared the specific details with me.
“They're waiting for the King of Thalyrius to arrive. Once he gets here and they do their whole meet-and-greet-and-listen-to-boring-shit thing, Bastian will come back down here. That's when I'll kiss him.”
I felt excited for her. “Sounds like a plan. I'll just roam by the cakes and pretend to be shocked when you do it.”
We both laughed.
“I'm so glad you're here.” Arielle pressed a hand to her heart.
“Me too.” I meant that despite my unsavory encounter with Dreynthor.
She began telling me about the rest of her plan if the first part was a success. She was planning to escape the celebration early with Bastian and spend the rest of the night in the outer lands, where no one could interrupt them.
She'd been painting a picture of moonlit meadows and hidden groves when the ceremonial horns of the royal heralds interrupted us. The moment everyone froze and seemed to stand a little taller, I realized the King of Thalyrius had arrived.
I followed the crowd's curious gazes up to the royal circle, where the heralds stepped aside to allow a giant Fae male through. He had a long beard, warrior plaits in his waist-long platinum hair, and a heavy pelt coat draped with bear hide, the fur still coarse and dusted with frost.
He reminded me of one of the northern men from the snow-covered lands in the mortal realm.
“Announcing the arrival of His Royal Highness, King Paeulyn of Thalyrius,” the tallest herald announced.
Everyone, including Wolfe, gave the king a deep bow. I followed suit, fascinated by the display of respect.
People in the mortal lands were just as respectful when King Varis was amongst them, but this felt even more significant because the King of Thalyrius wasn't their king. He was a guest, yet they showed him the same reverence.
