Page 2 of The Lord of Whispers

Unceremoniously chucking the sizable marble head into the hedges to the right of me as if it were no more than a pebble, I lightly brushed the dust from my hands and made my way toward the women. I even allowed the rare shadow of a smile to ghost my lips as Iconsidered the many ways I would make the green-eyed girl’s short time at the High Court, and my evening, more enjoyable.

“Jay Vitruvian,” I introduced myself, holding my hand out to the mousy woman first. My cufflinks, made of solid Azurinium etched into octagonal little spheres, glimmered in the last rays of the setting sun.

The meek woman took my hand, but her handshake was disappointingly feeble, lacking confidence. I resisted the urge to wipe the limp feel of it off my hand. I would get her situated with staff, make an appearance at dinner, and then turn to the more pleasurable part of my evening.

“Thank you for the welcome to the Court, high lord,” she replied.

It sounded like she was regurgitating words that had been fed to her. She looked down toward her modest ballet flats when she spoke, not meeting my eyes.

“I’m Elenor Kane.”

Wait. If she was Elenor Kane, then that meant…

I turned to the striking young woman just as she offered me her hand, her gorgeous green eyes meeting the gray of my own.

“High Lord Vitruvian,” she said, taking my hand into hers with a firm yet feminine handshake. “I’m Alarie Armand.”

I suppressed a groan, any trace of a smile disappearing from my face as I forced myself to dismiss all prior thoughts of her and her rosy-red lips. Lamenting the loss of the many ways I’d already come up with for entertaining the young woman that evening andwellinto the predawn hours, I welcomed my new liaison to the High Court.

2

Alarie

Despite the warmth of the spring evening, he was wearing a fitted, midnight blue tux with a black satin bow tie around his neck. He was a taller man who could not have more perfectly embodied the archetype of an omnipotent high fae lord if he had stepped right out of one of my textbooks. His dark brown hair brushed the tops of his ears; a five o’clock shadow occasioned his handsome face, accentuating his chiseled jawline; and dark, penetrating gray eyes complimented his muscled body, likely honed by hundreds of years of training. A fine, white marble powder sprinkled his sleeves, the only evidence of the chaos that ensued around us in the wake of the explosion.

A host from House Halair appeared in the courtyard looking for Elenor. House Kane did not have a place of its own at the High Court, so Elenor’s father had arranged for her to stay at House Halair for a time. Elenor had told me all about it on our way to the Court. The more Elenor shared with me, the less optimistic I became regarding the possibility of showing up to the High Court with a new friend in tow.

She had talked about herself throughout the entirety of the trip, never taking the time to ask me about myself. She’d told me how she was going to the High Court to find some high fae lord and then marry him, like she was the main character in a fairy tale. It quickly became clear to me that we were coming to the High Court for very different reasons, and I wasn’t sure we had much else in common.

I decided to dodge introductions with House Halair altogether, instead wandering over to the partially deconstructed statue. High Lord Vitruvian dutifully fielded questions from the House Halair host and others who had gathered in the courtyard looking for answers regarding the explosion. It was quite the sight to be greeted with, even if it was just a statue—a decapitated high fae lord, his head carelessly discarded feet away from his body.

I had immediately been taken in by High Lord Vitruvian’s command mere moments after he’d caught the marble head in his hands. I’d witnessed the entire incident through the window of my carriage. But, as Contra, I guess it would take more than an explosion and a flying head to make him off-kilter.

My eyes roved over the surrounding greenery that shot out from where I stood in the center of the courtyard like the spokes of a bicycle tire. It was pretty, but already I was comparing it to the beaches back home and finding it lacking.

Arms corded in muscle enclosed around me. Startled, I tensed against the unexpected embrace, but he easily overcame my resistance, pulling me against his tall, hard body. His hand wrapped around the back of my head, gently but protectively, holding my face pressed against his muscled chest.

Buried in the strength of his arms, and perhaps with thoughts of the beaches back home still on my mind, I thought he smelled like something that reminded me of home. A memory of digging my toes into the white sand of the beach on a sunny day flashed into my mind, and despite my initial instinct to resist, I found myself taking in a deep breath, my chest expanding as I melted into the man’s muscled frame.

I wrapped my arms around the narrow part of his large torso and tried to look up at the man holding me, but his grip on me just tightened. I felt him tense around me, and I reacted with him, my muscles going taut in his arms.

A loud, crashing noise pierced the raucous of the thoroughfare for the second time since I had arrived at the High Court.

The remainder of the marble statue exploded, collapsing where it stood. Its remnants scattered with force as a plume of fine white dust and debris expanded from its perimeter.

When the loudest of the noise subsided, the hand holding my head eased its tension, moving to my lower back and allowing me to move my head once more. I opened my eyes and looked up into a smile so bright that I momentarily forgot how to form words.

His crystal blue eyes had a playful sparkle, and his caramel brown hair had a slight wave to it. A white, powdery haze hung in the air around us. But the debris fellaroundus, instead ofonus, like we were standing inside an invisible bubble. For a second that seemed to drag on for hours, the turbulent world around me faded away into a low buzz hidden behind the white haze, and all I could see was his glowing face.

“I’m Luke,” the man with the blinding smile said.

“Alarie,” I breathed out, my face inches from his.

We stood facing each other, my heart beating out of my chest. I ran the flat of my tongue across my lower lip before pulling it between my teeth.

“Luke,” High Lord Vitruvian’s voice rang out, penetrating through the shield surrounding us.

We both snapped our heads toward the approaching high lord. It was obvious that he had not been protected by the same magical shield as Luke and me because, although the high lord still looked impeccable, the marble dusting now covered more than just his sleeves.

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