Page 47 of The High Mountain Court

“Delta is here?” Bri’s low voice rose an octave as her golden eyes widened. Remy looked at the Eagles and the unspoken conversation between them.

“Easy Bri,” Talhan warned. “We’re not here for fun.”

Bri rolled her eyes. “Right.”

“The last player is Bern,” Talhan said.

“Bern . . . how do I know that name?” Remy looked to the ceiling, pondering its origin. She was certain she had heard it before.

“He’s the one who told Hale about the witches,” Bri said. Remy remembered—Hale had said Bern was tied to the High Mountain Court, though he had never said how. “I remember his name,” Bri continued, looking to her twin, “but I keep forgetting which one he is.”

“He’s that silver-haired courtier, you know, the one with the scar.” Talhan moved his finger down his neck, indicating the line of the scar.

“Oh, that smug bastard from the summer revels?”

“One and the same.” Talhan chuckled.

“What court does he even serve?” Bri took another long sip of her drink.

“I’m not certain. He seems to always be on the move, but judging by his character I would say the South.” An uproar of laughter cut above Talhan’s voice. Someone must have won a big hand gambling in the corner.

“Wonderful,” Bri growled. She looked to Remy. “He’s a harmless party boy, but he fancies the males, so at least you can avoid one male’s shameless flirting.”

“Great,” Remy said tightly. She did not want any male’s shameless flirting . . . well, apart from one. She took another long drink from Bri’s flask, fire scorching her throat.

“Whoa,” Bri snatched her flask out of Remy’s hands. “You keep going like that and you will be unable to stand when you get called upon.”

Talhan guffawed. He looked longingly to the card table where a group of fae males had gathered.

“No,” Bri scolded her twin as if he were an overexcited puppy and then added in a lower tone, “This is not a pleasure visit.”

“Heads up,” Tallhan said, his eyes flicking to a door at the back of the room where Carys stood. The female fae dressed in fighting leathers, her hair back in its usual long braid, but she wore a metal chest piece with the Eastern crest etched into it too. She was an official Eastern Court guard tonight. She tilted her head to the doorway. Talhan chortled, “Bet Hale’s nearly lost already. Looks like you’re up, Rem.”

Remy’s heart pounded in her ears as she stood. She swayed for a moment on her feet, the liquor coursing stronger through her body at the movement. Bri snorted. Remy’s limbs felt loose and warm. Her brain felt pleasantly fogged over. It was enough that, while she still felt fear, it existed in a place further away from her.

“Leave the cloak,” Bri murmured. Remy looked down to realize she was still wearing it.

She took a deep breath and unclasped the neck, letting the cloak part and fall onto the chair behind her. The room stilled. Many male eyes turned to her and she felt every inch of her exposed skin.

“Remember who you are meant to be,” Bri said, her voice barely above a whisper. Remy straightened, shifting her shoulders back, trying to ignore how it made her chest stick out even more. Her long black curls cascaded down her back and hugged her exposed sides. She lifted her chin and let her emotions fade into the background. Let those wanting males look. She let their gazes slide over her with an air of indifference. She pretended like she knew exactly how beautiful she was, that she was better than all of them.

“Good,” Bri said as Remy stepped confidently through the throng.

Low whistles and whispers erupted around her: “Who is that?” “I haven’t seen her in the South before” “Does she belong to the East or West?” “Gods, what I would give for a taste . . .”

She let them all wash over her, steeling herself. She thought of her mother’s words flickering in that candle on the harvest moon and decided that she would shine as brightly as she could.

As she neared Carys, the female fae smiled mischievously at her. Delight twinkled in her eyes. She said nothing until they exited the back door and moved into the quiet stairwell. Halfway up the stairs, Carys paused and turned to Remy.

She said with a laugh, “I knew you were beautiful but this is . . .” her hands swept over the air in front of Remy with approval, “I think our prince’s heart may stop with one look at you.”

“I . . .” Remy didn’t know what to say to that. Carys’s long, elegant finger lifted Remy’s chin up.

“I may have a sword on my belt, Rem, but you are wielding a weapon too. Do not forget that,” Carys said. Her ocean blue eyes pierced into Remy, and her cheeks dimpled. “Now, let’s go have some fun.”

* * *

Remy followed Carys up the stairs and down the long hallway to where two large fae males stood, guarding the door. Carved Mhenbic witch symbols covered the door: a warding spell. No one could cast magic on the other side of this door.

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