I crossed into the Caer Ibormeith ballroom a few minutes after eight and found all the princesses already there—along with the camera crews.
But my eyes were on the hall itself. The soaring arches seemed to defy the laws of physics. Flowering vines grew over the stone, reaching all the way up to the silvery light of a star-flecked sky. Like a beautiful medieval ruin, the ballroom was partly open to the night. But torches hung around the stone columns and arches, and plants twined around them.
Before I’d left the room, I’d found the name “Caer Ibormeith” in one of the history books. The fae believed she was the goddess of dreams, that she ruled over sleep. And this place felt like a temple of dreams.
But given how cold it was in here, the plants must be alive through some enchantment. On one side of the hall, a fire burned in a great stone fireplace—the only heat source—and the frosty night air kissed my cheeks.
I hung by the edges of the hall, and goosebumps rose over the bare skin of my arms. Fae servants, perhaps the sort my parents had been, were gliding around with trays full of champagne flutes. When a woman with pink hair offered one to me, I took it. As I sipped the wine, warmth trickled down my throat and spread through my chest. The wine was like a rosé, but with hints of honey and orange, and a faint effervescence—like nothing I’d ever tasted before, and with an enchantment that burned away the cold.
I ventured further into the ballroom and felt all eyes on me. It seemed that our little castle tour today had absolutely not gone unnoticed.
And yet, as the wine warmed me, I didn’t mind the staring so much. In fact, I don’t think I’d ever felt this beautiful before, with my hair twisted and braided with bluebells. If I stood in the right way, the slit in my dress showed off my right leg all the way up to the top of my thigh.
Musicians stood in one corner of the ballroom—all women, dressed in white gowns. Beautiful music floated through the air: a harp, a violin, and ethereal woodwind instruments I didn’t quite recognize. The princesses stood around, sipping from little champagne flutes.
Only one of the faces here seemed friendly—Alice, the kelpie with white hair and iridescent skin, was smiling at me, and she lifted her champagne flute. I lifted mine as well, smiling back, and she approached me with a relieved look on her face.
Her brown eyes were big as she leaned in close. “The Faerie wine is helping me relax. I was so nervous.”
“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. This one won’t get violent, will it?”
She shook her head. “No, but the last time I saw Torin, it was a disaster. I kept blathering on about rancid milk. It really wasn’t romantic.”
I shrugged. “He seemed interested in it, though.” I lifted my glass, staring at the pale pink liquid with little bubbles. “So what exactly is Faerie wine?”
She bit her lip. “It has enchanting properties. It can make you feel amazing. In love, even. Tonight should be interesting.”
My heart fluttered at the thought, and at that moment, I felt a cool, powerful magic fill the room. The air seemed to thin, and the princesses stopped speaking as they turned to the entrance.
King Torin entered, dressed in a midnight suit of a velvety material. A silver crown rested on his dark hair, and he swept his icy gaze around the room, a faint smile on his lips. I could smell his delicious, earthy magic from here, wrapping around me like a caress.
A servant rushed over to offer him a drink, and he plucked a glass off the tray and took a sip.
Cleena was the first princess to go to him, her movements languid and entrancing. She wore a long, beaded gown of amber silk and a crown of her own made from pale pink roses twined with ferns. Glittery gold makeup shimmered over her high cheekbones, and shimmering amber gems gleamed from her hair. She gave a little wave to the cameras before turning to the king.
Within moments, I saw him throw back his head with laughter, and I felt the tiniest pang of jealousy.
I took another sip of the wine, forcing myself to pull my eyes away from Torin and Cleena. What I really didn’t need right after my horrific breakup was another round of jealousy, so I’d simply refuse to care about another beautiful heartbreaker.
Alice glanced up at me. “How do you always seem so confident?”
“Me?”
“Yes. I mean, you weren’t afraid to tell the king exactly what you thought. And you seemed so calm and natural on your date.”
Because I already know the outcome. Torin and I have no chance of actually falling in love.
I shrugged. “It’s just something you learn in the human world.” That was absolutely not true, but at least I wasn’t raised with all the insecurities about my rank in the rigid fae class hierarchy. “I think you should just relax, Alice. You’re gorgeous and sweet, and whether it’s Torin or someone else, you’ll find the right person for you.”
She smiled at me with relief.
I stole another quick look at the king, only to find him dancing with the raven-haired Redcap, who’d dressed all in black with a crimson flower crown. I didn’t recognize this dance—it was something entirely from the fae world. They were hardly touching, sort of circling each other with only their hands making contact, until they spun and switched directions. Torin’s movements reminded me of his feline agility and grace when sparring, and frankly, it was hard to keep my eyes off him. I stared as one of his hands lowered around her waist.
“What’s the human world like?” asked Alice.
I was relieved to have a distraction. “Well, it’s not quite as luxurious as all this, and we don’t have magic. But some of the people can be very warm.” I felt a twinge of guilt about Alice. She seemed sweet, and she had no idea that none of this was real.
I stared as Moria prowled across the ballroom floor, cutting in on Torin’s dance with the Redcap. Moria was dressed in a strapless white gown, her long claret hair falling over her bare shoulders. A crown of poison hemlock with delicate white flowers was on her head.
She danced close to him, resting her head on his shoulder, her dark eyes sliding to me as she clasped him. Flashing me a smug smile, she pulled her gaze from me and whispered something in his ear. Her hand slid slowly up his back to the nape of his neck…
My stomach twisted. This was a job. Just a job.
They looked a perfect couple, two regal fae beauties. Clearly, Torin was afraid of falling in love.
Was Moria the one who scared him the most?
