30. CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 30

DANIELLA

The dinner table was about twenty feet in length, and Kalyll and I had been instructed to sit at the opposite end of Mythorne, as far away from arm’s reach as possible.

It was a stupidly impractical sitting arrangement, which made me worry he suspected something. But if he did, why not capture us as soon as we entered his domain?

I stabbed the meat in my plate, a stringy, brown chunk with some sort of gravy splashed around it, and wondered if I should worry about its source. Under the table, Kalyll nudged me with his foot, staring pointedly at the mystery culprit. Holding my breath, I stuffed the small piece in my mouth and swallowed straightaway, then pretended to chew. My gag reflex almost activated at the gamey taste, but I managed to keep it under control.

“My troops have arrived at the Winter court,” Mythorne said, sounding pleased. “The Winter King will receive them and join his armies with mine. Without hoping to gain anything.”

“We cannot help it if Naeduin lacks creativity and political acumen,” Kalyll said unapologetically.

I resisted the urge to glare at him and instead decided to learn the way things worked among these Fae Royals. From this example, it seemed that straight-up words were the leading choice when dealing with barbed comments that would be useless to deny.

“Indeed.” Mythorne chuckled, then took a sip of his wine.

He was again accompanied by Cardian, who sat quietly and meekly as if not allowed to issue a sound lest the king stabbed them with his steak knife.

“Lady Mylendra,” the Unseelie King shifted his attention to me, “tell me about your interests and pursuits. I would love to learn what things we have in common.”

Well, for starters, I love to torture helpless people. Would it get me brownie points if I told him that?

Instead, I went over the boring spiel I’d rehearsed with Kryn.

“One of my favorite pastimes is literature,” I said. “I also enjoy horseback riding.”

Mylendra had other interests, but we chose to keep it short in case someone decided to discuss things I knew nothing about, like for instance, battle strategies. Apparently, the earl had insisted on both Kryn and his sister learning all about the intricacies of war.

To my left, Kalyll sat seemingly at ease. He appeared as unbothered as if he were at his own table, and watching his calm demeanor helped me keep my own cool.

“I hear you’re an accomplished archer,” Mythorne said with a sidelong glance at Cardian, the fucking tattletale.

“Um, I certainly am.”

“I love to hear it. I do love a female who can handle herself during the hunt. Perhaps you and I can have some fun out in my woods at some point.”

Not a chance, you asshole. You’ll be an empty husk as soon as I get my hands on you.

“And do you have any… special skills?” Mythorne gestured toward a servant to take away his plate.

“I don’t,” I replied, knowing that by special he meant magical.

He grunted. “That is unfortunate. I hear you are a shadowdrifter, Earl Qierlan, a fact you’ve kept well hidden up until now. I bet you wish you’d passed some of that on to your offspring.”

The way he said offspring made me wonder if he suspected the earl was Kalyll’s father. Whatever the case, it was a moot point, especially when Queen Eithne had made sure to create a narrative that assured everyone King Beathan had sired Kalyll.

“The earl” sipped his wine, then answered, “I certainly wish my son had inherited something from me. He’s good for nothing. He disappoints me at every turn.”

“What a pity. There’s nothing more satisfying and pride-inducing than… seeing yourself in your son.”

There was a hint of pain in the Unseelie King’s words. I paused and glanced in his direction, and for a moment, thought I caught proof of that pain in his gaze, but it all happened too fast to be sure.

When dinner was over, Mythorne stood and addressed me with gentleness. “Lady, I would love to take a walk with you in my gardens. I believe you will appreciate their… wild beauty.”

The thought of going anywhere with him put my teeth on edge, but this was exactly what we wanted.

I set down my napkin on my unfinished food. “It would be a pleasure.”

Kalyll stood to pull my chair back. He offered his hand and helped me stand. I strolled toward the front of the table, acting unhurried as I composed myself. Kalyll followed several paces behind me.

Mythorne shook his head. “There’s no need for your presence, Earl Qierlan.”

“I will not allow her to go without a chaperone,” Kalyll said.

“Do you not trust me?” The question was loaded, the kind that didn’t need to be asked because there was only one acceptable answer.

I glanced back over my shoulder and gave Kalyll a reassuring smile. I could defend myself all too well, and he knew it. This was our opportunity.

“I promise to remain well away from her,” the Unseelie King said.

A curious thing to say, and once more, I found myself wondering if he knew exactly who we were.

“Very well.” Kalyll inclined his head, looking pleasant, though I could tell from the stormy look in his eyes that he was fighting not to let Wölfe take control of the situation.

I kept walking, praying that he would prevail over his wilder side. It wouldn’t do to cause a confrontation that could end badly when we had the means to quietly dismantle his dark court.

As we exited the dining hall, Mythorne walked briskly ahead of me, moving as lithely as only the Fae can. I went after him, memorizing the winding halls in case I needed to find my way back by myself. This side of the castle was as dark and foreboding as the rest. I didn’t like this place at all. The shut-in feel, the lack of proper light. It made me feel as if I was trapped inside a mausoleum. I could almost smell the dank rot and the sweet decay of dead flowers, but I was sure it was all my imagination.

When I passed through a narrow door, and a cool breeze caressed my face, it was a relief. Though it was dampened by the lack of good lighting. It took my eyes a moment to adjust and take in the gardens that Mythorne assumed I would enjoy.

The moon shone meekly over the exotic landscape, illuminating a host of strange plants and bushes such I had never seen. The air was filled with a poignant mixture of smells, also unrecognizable.

In the center, a large tree sent its branches reaching up to the sky. White flowers in the shape of wine glasses seemed to shiver. A pool of water gurgled near the tree, its surface dark and oily. A variety of plants grew around it, their leaves leathery and glossy. A twisted plant with leaves like feathers caught my eye. What in the world?

Mythorne stood ahead of me on a wide cobble path. With a hand gesture, he invited me to join him. I did so, closing the distance between us, a distance that he quickly widened, pushing to the very edge of the path.

“I promised your father I would keep my distance,” he said, starting an easy stroll.

He either was very honorable, didn’t trust anyone getting close to him or suspected something. Of course, my vote was on one of the last two options. This bastard didn’t have one honorable bone on his body.

He cast a glance around the garden. “I’m sure the specimens here are unlike anything you’re used to.”

“You are correct.” I followed his gaze to a bush with perfectly round leaves.

“Many wouldn’t consider this garden beautiful, and I would call them shortsighted. There is no beauty in useless things, and there’s nothing useless about any of these plants. Each one of them has a use. Some heal, some inebriate, others kill, like that bush we just saw.”

“Fascinating.” And it really was. I knew a lot about plants and their many attributes. My knowledge could be called extensive by many, but I’d never seen any of the specimens found here. They drove my curiosity to no end.

“It seems you have a true affinity to plants,” Mythorne said, noticing my interest.

Kryn hadn’t mentioned anything about his sister liking plants, so I needed to tread carefully.

I made a noncommittal gesture with my hand. “Anything can hold my attention when expressed with such zeal. You’ve managed to make me very curious.” I added the last bit in an insinuating tone.

Our gazes locked and held. I smiled and took a step closer.

He made a disproving sound in the back of his throat. “We better keep our distance, my lady. We wouldn’t want your father growing angry.”

“I never took you for a male preoccupied with propriety.”

“I am when it pertains to the female I might marry.”

Behind Mythorne, the slightest movement of a shadow caught my eye. It slithered over the ground, so quickly that I might’ve missed it if I’d blinked.

Kalyll?

Once he moved closer, I became certain it was him. I felt him in my bones as if they were made of iron, and he was a magnet.

I shook myself and forced my attention back to Mythorne. “I am glad to hear you are considering me.”

“Are you, really? My court is not the best place for someone like you. I would think you would hate coming here.”

I leaned down to look closer at a flowering plant in front of us. I pretended to examine it, and when I glanced up I caught Mythorne admiring my boobs… well, Mylendra’s boobs. They were substantial, bigger than mine. I hadn’t gotten used to them.

“If you do not think I’m tough enough,” I said, “you must not know much about my father.”

“Oh, I know enough. You may think yourself hardened, but you are as soft as the first rays of morning light. I’m afraid there may be no room for that here.”

“You forget that light is insidious,” I retorted, walking closer and pretending to examine the plants.

He casually walked backward, keeping the distance between us steady. I did my best to hide my frustration, but this was getting ridiculous. Maybe he was a germaphobe, and that was why he had so many plants that could heal… just in case he caught some deadly virus. Honestly, at this point, a biological agent seemed like a much better weapon than me.

How long would it take to gain his trust? Days? Weeks? We did not have enough time or potion for that. His troops were already at the Winter Court and would be joined by the Fall Court regiment. And what then? What orders would they receive from their commander?

Would they immediately move on to attack Imbermore, Jeondar’s beautiful home? It was the closest opposing court. And even if the Spring Court rose to the occasion and joined Jeondar’s father, would they be strong enough to hold three armies back?

“And what of me?” The Unseelie King asked, gesturing toward his face.

“What of you?”

I acted as if I didn’t know what he meant. He was not a good-looking male by any stretch of the imagination, on the contrary. He was way too thin, and his hook nose made him look like a malnourished parrot. Though it wasn’t only his discordant features that made him unattractive. There was more to it. The windows to his soul told me he was far uglier inside. Despite the manners and diplomacy he had shown so far, his gaze swirled with malice, the kind that knew no bounds and rejoiced at the suffering of others.

He blew air through his nose and ignored my question. “I must admit. I am intrigued by you, Lady Goren. You don’t shy away the way most females do in my presence. You hold my gaze and talk with confidence. Even people who have known me for a long time are unable to do that much.”

“Are you trying to scare me, King Mythorne?”

“Scare you?”

“Yes. You are saying that even those you allow to keep on living fear you.”

He only shrugged in answer.

“Do you like people to fear you?”

“It has its advantages.”

“I can only imagine. No one has ever feared me.” I bobbed my head from side to side as if considering. “Well, maybe one chambermaid or two.”

He laughed at that.

I smiled, which was an effort.

“Yes.” He nodded slowly. “I’m definitely intrigued by you.”