Beautiful nightmares, p.24
Beautiful Nightmares, page 24
Sharp words died in my throat when I saw the way he was looking at me. His eyes glittered, the corners of his full mouth tilted upward. Somehow, just as he had back in his rooms, the faerie prince had guessed at my thoughts. Slowly, Laurie turned away, but the connection between us didn’t fade.
If it were Collith on my arm, he would have encouraged restraint and control. It felt good to be with someone who didn’t judge or condemn that part of me—that had been admiration I’d seen in Laurie’s face. Admiration and such wicked desire that it was difficult to breathe.
“Lady Fortuna Sworn and Prince Laurelis Dondarte,” he told the herald now. I watched his face carefully for any reaction to his new title, searching for any sign of pain or resentment. Laurie just quirked a brow at me. He didn’t raise his mask, so I didn’t either.
The herald bowed before facing the room again, raising his chin to speak. I watched him gather air in his lungs, and when he let it out, the voice that came out of him seemed too big for his lean frame. “Lady Fortuna Sworn and Prince Laurelis Dondarte!” he boomed.
Faces swung in our direction.
It wasn’t quite as dramatic as the Unseelie Court, where every conversation seemed to halt when I entered the room, but the music crescendoed at the same moment we moved into the crowd. Courtiers viewed me with the usual variety of reactions, albeit there was far more admiration here. Judging from our opulent surroundings, these faeries collected beauty like dragons hoarded gold. If I wasn’t careful, Belanor might not be the only one in this Court who tried to claim me.
I gritted my teeth at the thought, silently daring any of them to try.
We were halfway through the room now, walking much slower than I would’ve liked. The reactions to Laurie made my eyebrows rise. Some openly stared, while others lowered their gazes and tried to glance at the prince subtly, discomfort shining in their eyes and twisting their mouths. I remembered the bitterness in Laurie’s voice when I’d asked him about the sacrifice. My dethroning was treated like an… embarrassment. Like I’d been fired from a job.
“Don’t let them get to you,” I said quietly, squeezing his arm.
“Of course not,” Laurie replied, waggling his fingers at the cluster of faeries standing near a pillar. They tittered. “I paid the musicians for some extra enthusiasm upon our arrival.”
I couldn’t decide whether to roll my eyes or laugh, then I remembered that we had an audience. My smile died and I returned my attention to the predators surrounding me. The faeries of the Seelie Court were more… polished than the ones I’d ruled over. Wealth was evident everywhere I looked. Gleaming at every female’s throat in the form of pearls and diamonds, hanging off male frames as flawlessly tailored suits, glittering above our heads as gold and crystal chandeliers. The Unseelie Court was a mishmash of fashions and status, but here such differences were carefully curated or completely hidden away.
At last, we reached the other end of the crowd and what I assumed to be Laurie’s throne. Or Belanor’s throne, if I hadn’t managed to kill him yesterday. It seemed telling that we hadn’t heard anything yet.
No one sat on it right now, not even Mab. The chair was, unsurprisingly, beautiful. It was high-backed and silver, with visages of a powerful horse forming each armrest. The cushions looked like supple white leather.
“Now what?” I asked under my breath, turning to face Laurie. Focus slid away from us as the next arrival was announced. The music became a light, playful melody again.
He bent his head and whispered in my ear, taking advantage of the murmuring crowd and nearby musicians. “Now we mingle for a bit. Make a point of being seen together before Belanor arrives and inevitably tries to entrap you. Sorcha is ready to make the switch, once we go through that doorway. Lensa will meet us at another rendezvous point with the vampire and the werewolf. That plan should already be in motion. The Royal Guard will be so focused on Sorcha in the ballroom they won’t notice a group of rowdy guests leaving through the front.”
I looked at the doorway Laurie’s eyes had indicated, frowning in thought. “Wait, what happens to Sorcha if Belanor does entrap her, or the ceasefire ends and the Guardians just arrest her?”
“Do you care?” he asked, making no effort to hide his curiosity.
“Only in the sense that I don’t want another life on my conscience. Beyond that? No. Not anymore.” I met Laurie’s gaze, holding it for a moment, steady in my certainty. Then I looked up again, unable to resist staring at those distant figures some more. Was that a unicorn? Were they real? Before I could ask Laurie, the herald began one more introduction.
I tore my gaze from the painted ceiling to see the newest arrival. I blinked when I realized I was looking at a human—her ears were rounded and there wasn’t a trace of power about her. Not supernatural power, at least. She drew as many eyes as I had, but her beauty was no illusion. Her hips swung sensually as she walked and her bare skin gleamed beneath the chandeliers, the tulle dress she wore almost transparent.
“She is Simone, the most famous pet in all of the Seelie Court,” Laurie whispered, noticing how I stared. “Had she stayed in the human world, there’s no doubt she would’ve gone on to become the most famous ballerina alive. As such, she dances for us, and she is beloved for it.”
Why didn’t she stay in the human world? The question was on the tip of my tongue, but I suspected I already knew the answer. Amongst the fae, most of the human stories were tragic ones. “Did you just call her a pet?” I asked finally.
“We do not have slaves, of course. The Seelie Court likes pretty things. Slaves, the black market, these things are not pretty. Thus, they are called servants or pets. It’s common knowledge that Simone belongs to Lord Arthion. He’d never actually marry her, of course, since most of our kind frown upon diluting the bloodlines.”
“Of course,” I echoed coolly. Lord Arthion was undoubtedly the male Simone had joined within the crowd. He looked like he was in his mid-forties, which meant he was an ancient fucker. Harder to kill. His blond hair was slicked back, and there were hints of gray at his temples. The rest of his broad frame was dressed in a suit much more subdued than Laurie’s. He gripped Simone’s waist possessively and pulled the human close, never once bothering to actually look at her or say a word.
“Pathetic,” I said with quiet vehemence. Suddenly I remembered why I’d hated faeries before marrying Collith.
Another human walked past, this one carrying a tray laden with intricate glasses. Laurie claimed two of them with a single, thoughtless movement. His attention was fixed on the arriving courtiers as he presented a glass to me, already drinking from his own. I looked for Gil amongst the other black-and-white-clad individuals in the room, but I didn’t spot that bleached hair anywhere. I held onto the stem of the glass as though I could be poisoned just by touching it. It took Laurie a few seconds to notice my hesitation.
“It’s safe enough,” he said with an elegant shrug. “Most of the drinks are bespelled, but this one merely shows you the face of the person you love most before your first sip.”
My eyebrows rose, and I fought the immediate instinct to look down. I didn’t have to be a Nightmare to know I was afraid of what would be looking back. “Whose face do you see?” I asked.
Laurie winked. “Why, my own, of course.”
I rolled my eyes, but something else caught Laurie’s notice. He turned before I could keep using conversation with him as a stall tactic. I stood there and tried not to fidget. I glanced around and caught at least four courtiers staring at me before they had a chance to avert their gazes. I barely noticed; most of my concentration was on the bespelled cocktail in my hand. After a few seconds, the curiosity became stronger than the dread. Steeling myself, I held my cup closer and looked down.
Damon’s face shimmered on the surface, and something in my chest loosened. Of course it would be him. My little brother. My oldest friend. He was the only one who understood the pain of what we’d lost and what we were. He’d given up everything to follow me when I went in search of happiness all those years ago. And despite the terrible things that had happened since then, I knew he would make the same choice if he were given a chance to redo it.
We made a promise, remember?
Letting out a breath, I lifted my head and refocused on the crowd. Queen Mab had arrived while I’d been distracted, and she was in the center of the room now, dancing with a male I didn’t recognize. Her appearance was more understated than I would’ve expected from such a fierce legend—she wore a dress with green embroidery, puff shoulders, and a stiff-looking overskirt. The string quartet played louder now, and the music was almost loud enough to drown out my thoughts. Almost. I felt Laurie’s eyes on me, but I didn’t look at him. I felt so raw, so homesick that it seemed like I would shatter if I acknowledged it.
He took my glass—now empty—and handed it to another server walking past, along with his own. I looked around, wondering what had happened to his mask. Then Laurie turned back to me, bent into a slight bow, and held out his hand. For a tilting, disorienting moment, I saw a different face peering down. One with hazel eyes, a jagged scar, and tousled brown hair. Dance with me, Fortuna.
I quickly put my hand in Laurie’s, more in defiance than an actual desire to dance. A faint smile curved his lips, as if Laurie knew exactly what I was thinking. Like he always seemed to know, damn him.
Before I could say anything, Laurie led me onto the dance floor.
Queen Mab had retreated now, and she spoke with a courtier near the throne, her expression polite as she nodded. She was being very careful not to acknowledge me, I thought. Laurie’s palm rested on the small of my back, bringing my attention back to him. I was still holding the stem of the mask in my other hand, but Laurie only wrapped our fingers around it. He stepped even closer and I felt his thighs graze against mine. Suddenly my mouth felt too dry, but I resisted the urge to swallow, knowing Laurie would be able to hear it. I also fought the instinct to watch my feet. I lifted my chin and met Laurie’s eyes as if he’d challenged me. His smile only deepened, and he pulled me into the steps.
It didn’t surprise me that Laurelis Dondarte waltzed as well as he dressed. Though I wasn’t nearly as skilled as any of the dancers around us, my partner was an excellent guide. In his arms, I didn’t hesitate or stumble. I gazed up at him, unnerved that he wasn’t making any remarks or jokes.
“I never thanked you,” I said suddenly, stumbling. Laurie righted me without missing a beat. “Not… not just for helping me while we’ve been here. Thank you for what you did at Hallerbos.”
For once, he didn’t pretend or act coy. Laurie looked down at me and a lock of bright hair fell over one eye. “I never thanked you, either,” he murmured.
I tilted my head. “Which part are you grateful for? How meeting me led to the loss of your throne?”
His hand tightened around mine. “How meeting you reminded me that there’s more to live for than revenge or power.”
Anxiety and confusion beat at my heart like the tips of flapping wings. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I longed to ask.
Instead, I leaned forward and rested my cheek on Laurie’s chest.
If I’d startled him, he didn’t show it. Laurie slowed our dance, and adjusted his hold on me so our arms weren’t set at awkward angles. I could hear his heartbeat, strong and steady. One of the feathers on my mask tickled the bottom of my chin, but I ignored it. Somehow, in the midst of these lovely, vicious faeries and surrounded by glittering danger, my mind went quiet. It felt like we were standing in the snow again. Just like that day, I could feel Laurie’s warmth, even through layers of clothing. He smelled like spring breezes and crisp soap, a combination that shouldn’t have worked, but it did.
The musicians hit the final note of the song, and it echoed through the room like a wistful chorus of sighs. Couples pulled away from each other, clapping politely. But I wasn’t ready for this moment to end. I didn’t think Laurie was, either—he held onto me a beat too long before he stepped away and faced the whispering crowd. I saw some gazes drop to our hands, which were still clasped tight.
I waited for Laurie to let me go. There was a gleam in his eyes as he bent and kissed the back of my hand. Despite the dozens of eyes on us, my body reacted to the sensual way he dragged his mouth across my skin. Then Laurie straightened, and we moved through the throng of courtiers again. We left the dance floor, going to the right this time, closer to the doorway where Sorcha hid. Once we were away from the audience, I saw his expression shift, losing the roguish look I’d become so familiar with. As if Laurie were an actor leaving the stage.
Because that’s what it had been, I realized as I watched him. A performance. A statement.
A drop of doubt slid through my veins. A drop of poison. Was Laurie always putting on some kind of show? How much of what I’d seen—what I thought he’d allowed me to see—was real? Collith had shown me how skilled faeries were at the long con. Maybe Laurie just had a different endgame.
Stop it, Fortuna. He sacrificed his throne for you.
I banished every thought from my head and hurried after him, my heels making it impossible to be subtle. Most of the faeries in our path shifted politely, giving us room to pass. But one didn’t; I wasn’t surprised to see Lord Arthion step forward, forcing us to acknowledge him. He pulled Simone partly in front of his body like she was a trophy or an accessory.
“Lord Arthion,” Laurie said as I drew up alongside him. Looking at his amiable expression, no one would ever know how he felt about the faerie male who had turned his attention to me. Sometimes I forgot how good Laurie was at pretending.
Another whisper of misgiving went through me at the thought.
“Curious choice of companion, my lady,” the courtier said to me, his eyes dropping to the hand I’d rested on Laurie’s arm. “One might think such a powerful figure would seek to align herself with more… advantageous connections at the Seelie Court.”
“One might think that,” I agreed. “One might also get stabbed in his sleep.”
The faerie’s head snapped back, as if I’d slapped him. His teeth bared in a faint, instinctive snarl. “I beg your pardon?” he said.
I pretended to consider this, but my opinion of him had been sealed the moment he insulted Laurie. “You can beg, but it won’t save you,” I decided.
“And that’s Lady Sworn,” Laurie interjected, winking at the faerie lord. “Isn’t she lovely? Well met, Lord Arthion. Please enjoy my mother’s party. Such a worthy cause, wouldn’t you agree?”
I allowed him to steer me away, and I could feel Lord Arthion glaring daggers at my back. That probably hadn’t been the smartest thing to do, but it had been almost an entire day since I’d insulted a faerie. A girl needed to let loose now and then.
“Who is he to you and why did I instantly hate him?” I asked once we were no longer within earshot.
“Lord Arthion is one of my brother’s most ardent supporters,” Laurie said lightly, nodding at a round-cheeked female with the ears of a deer. She blushed and curtsied. The feather sticking up from the back of her head bobbed. “He will be confirmed as the new Right Hand at Belanor’s coronation.”
My mind was still on the first piece of information he’d just given me. Suddenly I knew why I’d taken such an instant dislike to Lord Arthion, even before he opened his mouth—Belanor’s cologne. I’d smelled it. The courtier either wore it himself, or he’d spoken to Belanor recently enough that it still clung to him.
Any friend of Belanor’s was an enemy of mine.
Laurie stopped once we reached the side of the room, the shadow of a pillar casting half his face into darkness. He crossed his arms and propped his shoulder against the wall. He immediately began to watch the goings-on around us, seeing everything, memorizing small details, tucking them away for later assessment.
I knew I should look away, or hide my face behind the mask. Laurie would notice how hard I was staring at him, and then he’d be unbearable about it.
But I didn’t.
Laurie’s focus moved over me, then darted back, his eyes meeting mine. Caught. I felt my cheeks redden. Even now, I didn’t stop staring. Laurie quirked a brow. I waited for him to make one of his ridiculous comments. But he pushed off the wall, searching my gaze with an expression I’d never seen him wear before. Cool marble greeted my fingertips, and I jumped, realizing that I’d backed up against the pillar. Laurie moved so close that his chest whispered against my nipples, the barest brush that had them standing on end. I looked up at him and swallowed, unnerved by his seriousness. By the need heating between us. What was happening right now? When had Laurie started making me feel like this?
Lensa’s voice cut through us, her tone managing to be annoyed and bored at the same time. “Am I interrupting something?”
I blinked and moved away like I’d been shocked. Laurie didn’t take his eyes off me as he said, “Yes. What’s happening?”
I tried not to blush as I focused on his sister. Princess Lensa Dondarte looked much different than the last time I’d seen her—tonight, in place of the formidable armor, she wore a dress of black leather. Her heart-shaped face was accented by the loose, silver waves that hung over her shoulders and down to her waist. There was no jewelry at her ears or around her neck, but I’d bet all my money that she’d taken the time to hide weapons beneath that flaring skirt. Like me, Lensa wore dark heels where she probably would’ve preferred boots or some other thick-soled shoe that made kicking someone more effective.
Evidently the Seelie Court was strict about footwear.
“Nothing is happening,” Lensa answered, drawing me out of my thoughts. “That’s the problem. I haven’t gotten the signal from Morelli. There’s been no sign of Belanor, either, so I haven’t been able to track his movements.”
Laurie made a dismissive gesture, the silver rings on his fingers flashing. “He’s not coming, but it doesn’t matter. He was irrelevant to tonight’s outcome.”
