Page 92 of Death of a Mortal

I swallowed and said yes to the king, glancing at the queen to find a tight smile on her face behind her husband.

“Keep a level head. I know you’re going to be angry when you see him, but don’t lose your cool. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“No promises, Noxie.”

And then the doors opened to a sea of elegantly dressed fae in gowns and masks, already spinning around the dance floor. Everywhere I looked, things were glittering and shining.

Just before the king and queen entered, arm in arm in front of me, I felt an arm loop around mine, and the beast in my chest woke with a blazing start.

Varyn.

He stood in my blind spot, but I knew it was him.

The bodice of my dress suddenly felt too tight, my cheeks too hot.

“Hello, Naci.”

“Your Highness.” I said it with none of the warmth and teasing that I used to.

“Can I escort you to the ball?”

“I don’t have a choice, as you’re well aware. I’m just a mortal, for you to do with as you please, right? So why even ask?” I hoped my words stung him somewhere deep inside. I had said them with as much venom as I could muster.

“Naci, I—”

“I want no excuses. In fact, I would rather we didn’t speak at all.”

I was trying so hard not to let my hurt seep through the mask of strength I had put on. I could not let him see me weak.

“As you wish,” was all he said, defeated.

Good.

We walked slowly behind the king and queen, the crowd parting for us, each fae bowing as they moved away. The walk to our table at the far end of the gigantic room lasted a lifetime. I could feel the weight of at least two hundred stares. Whispers of “traitor’s daughter” reached my ears, but I refused to cower or falter.

I kept my eyes firmly ahead, my chin held high. They could scar me, but they could not break me.

All around me, I saw white walls with gold filigree all the way to the high, domed ceiling. The floor was nearly the same white marble as the rest of the castle, except this marble had slate gray streaks running through it at random. It reminded me of a spiderweb, and I was firmly caught in it, waiting to be devoured.

We finally reached the royal table, which sat atop a dais, with seven chairs on one side facing away from us and another four facing us and the room. Two of the ones facing us were made to look like thrones, for the king and queen. The other two were for Varyn and me. Which meant the other seven were for the royal court.

From the crowd, the court members approached, each lining up behind their chairs and waiting for the king to be seated. Once he sat, so did the rest of us. And dinner began.

I looked at the royal court members one by one, mentally listingwho each was based on the order the queen had tried to walk me through on the way back to my cell last night from dinner.

High Priest Malchior. He was old and creepy and looked like shadows lived beneath his sallow skin. Luckily, he was farthest from me.

Lord Commander Draven. He sat across the table from the prince. He was young and handsome, and the two of them grinned at each other like old friends. I ignored the feeling in my stomach at the sight of that smile I had loved so…

Royal Chamberlain Vanthe. Just a smug male with a pointed face.

Court Mage Eirathe. No other word could describe her than badass. She had short blue hair, a glittering jewel on the side of her nose, and what looked like the tops of tattoos reaching above the neckline of her gown. She was formidable, sitting at the opposite end from the high priest.

Ambassador Zareth. He was the largest fae at the table with a sinister face. His dominating presence drew my attention, partly because he was so massive and partly because he was directly across from me.

Of course, the most intimidating one would be across from me.

And he smiled as if he knew what I was thinking.