I go to stride past him but catch the look as he drops his gaze. I hesitate. “Tell her it’s people like her father she should respect,” I say softer. “The ones who serve because they have faith in justice.”
He peers up and his eyes widen, then sparkle, and I try not to feel ill while turning to enter the shiny balcony.
The space is already filled with heavily perfumed people, most of whom are looking down upon the enormous lower room that’s stuffed to the walls with prominent individuals fawning over food-heavy tables and a mini-carnival.
I shake off the embarrassing cloth-kissing and dart my gaze about for Eogan-turned-Draewulf as acrobats, panther-monkeys, and even a baby oliphant prance around on the stage below. Behind them, giant arched windows and mural-painted walls edge up against the open doors and outside patios, giving the room a depth that brings the frescoed firefly trees and Hythra Crescent Mountains to life.
I search the corners for Eogan, but only find vedic harpies swinging from cages, humming their songs about the sea. Their music is enough to trigger a bizarre homesickness for my previous owner Adora’s home and her parties with Eogan and Colin. I purse my lips. Who’d have thought I’d miss anything about that woman?
Turning my eyes, I tune them out even as my stiff shoulders threaten to buckle. Blasted hulls, Eogan, why couldn’t you have let me shield you?
Find him and do what you have to, Nym.
“This way, miss.” Tannin beckons me to the crowd in the center of the loft where he proceeds to weave me around their warm bodies. The elegant people fall away from us with eager glances and murmurs. Some are already too full of wine to walk decently, but apparently not enough to prevent them from noticing my sea-blue eyes and everything else about me that shouts Elemental.
“They say she took down Bron’s airships with a single lightning strike,” someone excitedly whispers.
“Two,” another says. “The first took out the archers.”
“No, no, she used her breath. Inhaled the wind and blew them back to Bron.”
I raise a brow and can’t help the smirk at that one. It fades as soon as my chest tightens with the rawness of not having Colin beside me. He would’ve laughed and never let me hear the end of it. My breath? I straighten. Keep walking.
“Either way, do you think it wise having her at the High Court? Look at those bandages on her hands. Are we certain she’s safe?”
“No, but it doesn’t matter. Rumor is she’ll be invited to leave for Bron with King Eogan soon.”
“Figures,” a man’s voice titters too loudly. “Anyone can tell she’s vying to be that man’s queen. Can you imagine? A week ago she was a slave. As if she’d know the first thing about court life. Now, if it was that visiting Cashlin princess, Rasha . . .”
I keep my head up and don’t give them the luxury of knowing that my ears are, in fact, clearly working even if the man’s insults are more comforting than any of the praise. I look around. Where is Princess Rasha? Less than an hour ago she was in my room playing with knives and hinting encouragements about Eogan. How did she not see this coming with Draewulf?
Tannin stops and I almost trip over him onto King Sedric, who’s speaking with men I recognize as part of the High Council. In their shiny green doublets and pointy-heeled shoes, they remind me of the garish Adora. Especially beside His Royal Highness who’s as boyish-looking and underdressed as ever. I curtsy as protocol dictates and nod at his guards nearby. They visibly relax and my hard eyes soften a bit at this man-boy who’s two years older than me—nineteen—but seems twenty more, and who fought without flinching at Eogan’s and my side.
He stops speaking and turns a kind smile. “Nym.”
“Your Highness.”
“I’m pleased you could make it down this evening.”
“I’m honored to be invited.” My throat tightens. Tell him about Eogan.
His merry gaze falls on my clothbound palms and narrows with apparent concern. “I hope you know this celebration is as much in praise to you as it is the treaty.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty, but the gratitude is rightly placed on your shoulders.” My eyes flick behind him, beyond the guards, in search of Eogan. You have to tell him, Nym. I clench my fingers and feel the pain from the cuts shoot up my arms.
Tell him you’re all in danger.
I open my mouth again.
But my tongue thickens and heat clogs my throat. I don’t know how to do it. I can’t make the words come out from my lips that will sentence Eogan’s body to death by the hands of someone who hardly knows him. Even if Sedric is my king. “You have my respect and gratitude,” I whisper instead. “Especially regarding your mercy toward my Elemental race.”
King Sedric grins and glances at the councilmen who are sloshing the drinks they’ve raised in our direction. He leans politely toward me. “I’d relish the chance to speak with you about your heritage as well as the plight of the Faelen citizens, if I may have the honor of a dance later this evening?”