Page 23 of Ruin of Revenants

“I—you’re welcome, Your Highness. It’s my pleasure.”

Archer cleared his throat from the doorway, interrupting us. “Time to meet the king.”

Orchid dipped into a swift curtsey and bolted without another word.

Archer’s eyes were stony, giving away nothing as I stepped forward, reluctantly accepting his hand.

“So you decided to test out the limits of our bond,” he murmured as he led me through his wing and toward the hall. “And now we are late to see my father.”

Anxiety was like a fist tightening my stomach. “If our roles were reversed, would you be quick to believe me if I trapped you in my home?”

He didn’t reply, which was answer enough.

“What will you tell the king?” I asked after another beat of silence. “And do you really believe he won’t be able to read my mind?”

He paused at the doorway, reaching into his pocket to withdraw a small mahogany box carved with flowers. “I obtained an engagement gift as a backup.” He opened the box, revealing a gold ring crafted to look like woven vines encasing a solitaire ruby in a teardrop shape. “It looks like a ruby, but it’s a glass vial holding some of my blood and enchanted to protect your mind from my father. It will allow you to choose which thoughts Father can read—it establishes a sort of mental wall that lets you keep the thoughts you want to hide…well, hidden. Father will only see what you let him and won’t be aware of the wall, so he won’t suspect anything.” He plopped the box unceremoniously into my palm. “And it’s tradition for royalty to offer their betrothed rings, which means it will also help sell our story to Father.”

I withdrew the ring from the case and slipped it onto my index finger, frowning when it was too large. Archer shrugged and took my hand in his, grimacing at the contact before his free hand hovered over the ring. It shrunk to fit around my finger perfectly, and then he pulled back.

“How—?”

“Part of the enchantment its crafter embeds in all his rings.” He offered his arm to me once more. “Let’s not test Father’s patience a moment more.”

I set the case on a side table and joined him at the door, which he pushed open, leading me back into the castle’s labyrinthine halls. This time, determined to become more familiar with the castle layout, I tracked the turns we took until we reached a pair of double doors leading out to an expansive balcony overlooking the gardens. The chirring insects and flowing water fountains placed evenly along the high walls provided a musical backdrop as Archer and I approached a table at the far end, the one with the best view of the grounds below.

My eyes swept over vast gardens drenched in starlight. Palm fronds waved in a light breeze, one that, combined with the lack of scorching sunlight, helped make the air cooler than it was during the day. The night was clear and gorgeous, the type with enough moonlight to make me feel alive, even with the sun asleep and not fueling my phoenix magic as powerfully as usual. It made me itch to shift, to spread my wings and fly among the stars.

I stifled the sigh that wanted to escape when I remembered it would likely be a long while before I could fly again.

My gaze flitted back to the table on the balcony, where a single monstrous figure lounged, his legs stretched out beneath the table as he picked at a spread of food laid out before him, a pair of servants nearby prepared to tend to any need or want.

When King Wystan turned his gaze on Archer and me, I had to hold my breath to conceal my abhorrence. While most fae were beautiful, not aging like witches and warlocks or other creatures I knew of, the king was ugly and terrifying. Curving horns arched from his head, while his skin was rough like bark yet the grey sheen of a corpse. His eyes were orange, like two burnt embers whose fire had all but died out. When he stared at me, I could feel him trying to pierce my mind and discern my thoughts.

Dear Solea, Sanvo, Vithenna—anyone listening…please let the enchanted ring work.

And then, I experienced the most peculiar sensation. My mind slammed shut. My thoughts fluttered behind an impenetrable wall with a gate only I could open. Breathing carefully through my nose and exhaling through my mouth, I concentrated, plucking the safest ones to the forefront and edging them toward that invisible gate.

My memory of Archer’s beautiful smile earlier, the way I’d momentarily been caught up in his handsome features. The feeling of comfort as the prince settled the ring in my palm. Let King Wystan draw those thoughts out of me and imagine I was the besotted fiancée I was pretending to be.

King Wystan’s brow pinched for a moment before he shifted his burning eyes from me to his son, a question in his expression.

Archer smirked. “Yes, Father. This is my vow-bound bride.” He tugged me close against his side and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

I swallowed the bile rising up the back of my throat.

The king scowled. “You’re late. This hardly seems like the time to try my patience and show such disrespect.”

“Please forgive me for not introducing you sooner, Father,” Archer began, his grasp on my arm firm, his charming smile locked into place. He was all easy grace and sunshine, his golden hair glistening as he dipped his head deferentially, lightly pinching my arm in a silent prompt for me to pause and offer my obeisance alongside him. “And our tardiness…” He trailed off, clearing his throat. “We lost track of time.”

Though my knees trembled and my legs were stiff, I fell into a curtsey, forcing a smile onto my lips. This was the male who delighted in trying to eradicate my kind, and here I was, trapped in this game of pretend where I had to look like I enjoyed his presence. Disgust soured my mouth.

“I’ve never seen this female in my life.” King Wystan snorted, uninterested. “I’m not sure why you feel the need to bring your conquests to me now.”

I gritted my teeth to prevent myself from glowering in offense.

“I already told you. She is no mere conquest, Father.” Archer pulled out a chair for me, making a great show of being an attentive lover before he settled into the chair next to mine. Side-by-side, across from the king. “This is Isoria Gildmere, my betrothed.” He lifted my hand, showing off the ring glistening there like it was all the evidence needed.

King Wystan laughed outright. “Don’t be absurd, Archer. You’ve never shown any inclination to settle down. What did you do? Meet her and get engaged overnight?” He narrowed his eyes. “Did she threaten you?”