I flinched away just as a huge push of heightened magic wafted through the air. I knew without looking who it came from.
On the opposite end of the table, the crown prince wore a ferocious snarl, and it was directed entirely at Lord Waterline. Prince Norivun had been looking as though he was seconds away from murder all night.
Not everyone was wishing the night was over, however. A soft laugh came from Meegana as she and Nuwin conversed. At least one of us was having a good time.
“Tell me, Lord Waterline,” I said and angled in my seat so his hand was forced to drop. “Have you read any good books lately? I just finished the most amazing story, courtesy of the castle library, called Of Fae and Might. It was a compelling story about a princess from thousands of winters ago who rebelled against a force from an alien realm who’d come to conquer ours. It had romance, adventure, and the most epic battle scenes. A true delight. Have you read it?”
The young lord’s gaze fixed on my cleavage once more. When my nostrils flared, and a pulse of magic rumbled in my belly, he looked up.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I asked if you’d read Of Fae and Might?”
“Read? Oh no, I don’t read. Reading is too boring for me. Too tedious, don’t you agree?”
I picked up my fresh glass of wine that a servant had delivered. “Considering I asked you if you’d read a book I just finished, no, I don’t agree.” I took another sip and wondered how much longer this evening was going to be. If the day came when a forced marriage to Lord Waterline was upon me, I just might adopt a few tips from the heroine in Of Fae and Might and shave his balls off.
Lord Waterline again trailed a finger up my arm, and I was two seconds away from enacting Lady Furyful’s wrath when a squeak of a chair came from the end of the table.
Prince Norivun stood, his wings extending. “I think that’s enough of this dinner, don’t all of you agree? Perhaps we should all rise and mingle for a bit.”
Nuwin snorted, glancing between me and the crown prince as Lady Endalaver plastered herself to Norivun’s side.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” she purred. “Shall we go out on the balcony?”
My stomach tightened when she tilted her lips up. Of course, tonight he’d been paired with her, but despite feeling Georgyanna’s oily manipulation affinity in the air, I had yet to see the Winter Court heir so much as give her anything other than a fleeting smile or disinterested nod.
“Actually, I was thinking we could all mingle in here. It’s more fun to speak in groups, don’t you think, Lady Endalaver? In fact, I was thinking we should start doing that at these dinners more often.” Prince Norivun didn’t wait for her reply and instead stalked toward where Lord Waterline and I sat.
“Lady Seary, may I refresh your wine?” the prince asked, his tone biting as he glared at Lord Waterline.
“Oh, I can do that.” Lord Waterline pushed his chair back, but the crown prince shoved his foot behind the chair’s leg, halting his movement.
“Allow me, really. It’s no bother.” The crown prince pulled back my chair and extended his hand even though my wine glass had just been refilled.
Lady Endalaver fumed from her end of the table.
Crackling energy surrounded the prince. He watched me. Waiting. Storm clouds raged in his sapphire irises.
I eyed his hand. Enough time had passed since the council meeting that my anger wasn’t as acute, but it didn’t stop how he viewed me. I was still his servant to command. His object to own. Despite nearly begging him to ask his father to release me from the Trial, he hadn’t.
Still . . .
I glanced at my date. Lord Waterline gave me a sultry smile.
Ock. I took the prince’s outstretched hand. The lesser of two evils.
Once I was standing at the prince’s side, he firmly hooked my hand through his elbow. A rush of awareness billowed through me at that simple touch. Side by side, he glided us toward the corner of the room where a selection of wine bottles waited.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said under his breath as his aura rose.
“I have?” I replied innocently.
“You have, and you know it. I wish it to stop.”
My teeth ground together. “And I wish not to be here having to suffer through these horrible dates. I suppose we all have wishes that will never come to pass, don’t we?”
“What have I done that’s so horrible to make you avoid me for a week?”
“Other than reminding me that I’m simply an object you own who you can command at your will? Nothing.”
He stopped in his tracks, and his wings snapped in tight. “Ilara.” My name on his lips caused a shiver to course up my spine. “I didn’t mean—” He raked a hand through his hair. “Dammit, I knew I fucked up at the meeting.” He growled. “What I’m trying to say is—” Fuming, he tore a hand through his hair again.
I raised my eyebrows. “Yes?”
His nostrils flared, and the aura around him grew so visceral that it felt as though his sheer power draped all over me. “I’m sorry. I know you wish to be released from this Trial.”
“I do.”
“But I can’t stop it, Ilara. I’m not the king.”
“Why not try, though?”
“I did. I tried several times to have you released from these dates before the Trial started, but the king refuses.”
“But that was just the dates. I want out of the Trial entirely, and when you last asked the king, it was before the king knew what I was doing with the orem. If you would only try again—”
“I can’t, Ilara,” he growled. “I won’t. Besides, my father won’t be commanded. Even if I demanded it, he would refuse.”
Any hope I’d held at being released from the Trial again withered and died. Anger rose in me, and I began to tap my foot. “What a shame. You certainly command me quite easily.”
His eyes narrowed. “Is that what this is about? That I commanded you?”
I worked a swallow, then began to fidget. “I don’t like it,” I finally hissed. “My life is entirely out of my control, and then you only make it worse by reminding me that I’m powerless.”
“I . . .” His mouth opened, then closed, and a scowl twisted his features. “I’m . . . unfamiliar with not commanding fae. It’s been instilled into me from a young age. But . . .” His scowl turned into a frown. “I can see how that made you feel.” He took a deep breath, then said quietly, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, Ilara. I didn’t intend to make you feel that way.”
My chest rose and fell with each breath, and I suddenly wished I still held my wine glass simply so I had something to grip despite the prince.
“Do you mean that?” I replied.
“Yes,” he all but growled. “I don’t view you as an object I own. I never have. I simply . . . command fae. It’s what I do, but I can understand that it made you feel insignificant and powerless, and for that I am sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”