Page 74 of Lady of the Nightmares

Scion’s scowl deepened. “You could show me the most beautiful fucking rose on the continent, and I would still tell you I have more important things to do than waste my time on flowers.”

I caught Siobhan’s eye across the table, and she smiled, rolling her eyes as if to say, “Males.” I shook my head in response and glanced down, swallowing a laugh.

Then, in the oddest way, a wave of grief hit me.

My sister would have laughed at something like that—something so innocuous and foolish. Since her death, I’d had no friends. No female companionship beyond the occasional moment with Iola or Enid. No glances to convey more than silence.

It felt wrong—too soon—to share even a laugh. And worse, with afairywoman.Like betraying Rosey.

I folded my hands in my lap and did not look up again, letting the conversation wash over and around me as we waited for breakfast to arrive, glancing up only when Cross made introductions. To my immense relief, he did not bother to introduce all two dozen of the thieves milling around the den, focusing only on the three seated at the table with us.

“You’ve already met Siobhan.” Cross gestured to the female, who gave a little wave. It might have been friendly had she not been spinning a dagger between her fingers only moments before, which she tossed into the air and caught again, never missing a beat. “Siobhan is an expert safecracker. There’s no lock in the city she can’t open.”

I nodded in response and gave a weak smile. I might have asked if she could teach me to do that, but now, with my sister on my mind, even the thought of friendship was too raw.

“This is Arson.” Cross gestured to the large, chestnut-haired male on his right.

I raised an eyebrow. Upon a second glance, I thought Arson might be half-Fae at most. His ears were pointed, but his face, while handsome, led me to believe he might be part human.

It was a difficult distinction to make—since Fae and humans were not so different from one another in broad strokes, yet while I might not be able to explain that ineffable “something,” I could certainly see it. Perhaps it came down to symmetry—overall perfection, as the Fae did not get sick as we did, age as we did, or show exhaustion or blemishes on their faces. Perhaps I would ask Bael, when I saw him again, what the Fae perceived to be the difference—if there was something that they thought to be ugly within their own species.

“Hello,” I said shortly.

Arson merely glared, clearly not liking that we were here. I felt Scion shift beside me.

Cross did not seem at all perturbed by whatever was upsetting his son. “Arson is a talented swordsmith.”

“Is that necessary?” Scion sneered.

“Hear out the plan first, Sci,” Cross said lightly, even as Arson shifted as if he were going to stand and show Scion just how necessary he was. “You can’t be in every room at once.”

Scion looked like he wanted to argue but said nothing. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. For a moment, I’d thought I was about to have to watch Scion torture this thief, and in that moment, I realized I agreed with him. The best swordsmith in the world probably wouldn’t be necessary.

“And last,” Cross said as if there had been no interruption, “this is Vander.”

A thin, pale male at the end of the table merely nodded at me. He was pale in every way, with hair so blond it was white and eyes that held the milky hue of blindness. Still, he faced me as if he could see, and his eyes seemed to stare straight into me. I shuddered. “What do you do?”

“Plan,” Vander replied in a soft voice that did nothing to appease my anxiety.

Thankfully, I was saved from responding as, in that moment, the food arrived, providing a welcome distraction. A teenage boy, dressed in the same all-black clothing the thieves seemed to favor, approached, balancing a teetering tray of plates on one shoulder.

Without conscious thought, I pushed my chair back and stood to assist him, grabbing the edge of the tray before it could go crashing to the ground. “Here, let me help you.”

The boy’s eyes widened, and he shrunk back. “No!”

Ignoring his protest, I swiped the largest plate and placed it on the table, the hot edges burning my thumbs.

Scion caught my eye. “What the fuck are you doing? Sit down.”

I froze, realizing everyone was staring at me.

I swallowed thickly, knowing my only choices were to pretend I’d intended this all along or to admit that I was still so accustomed to serving it was like a well-worked muscle. I might despise serving the Fae, but I would still feel more comfortable, safer, standing against the wall with a tray than sitting at Scion’s side. There was no logic in it, but I’d grown comfortable with the hand I’d been dealt. Learned to move within only the confines of my cage.

“I’m saving your breakfast from landing on the floor,” I replied, forcing a bravado I didn’t feel into my voice. “Perhaps try saying ‘thank you,’ my lord. I only meant to save this poor boy the honor of being asked to lick wine from your boots.”

The thieves laughed as I took my seat again, clearly not understanding the reference, but Scion didn’t move. His gaze remained fixed on me, his food sitting untouched in front of him.

I reached for my fork, slowly beginning to eat as the tension in the air grew thicker between us. The thieves resumed their conversation, not watching us, but I felt as if I could barely breathe.

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