“Let’s go get you cured,” he whispered, so close to my ear that the warmth of his breath sent a thrill through me.
I let him gather me up in his arms, pulling me close to him again, and my head rested against his powerful chest. His feathered wings appeared behind him, stretched out and blending into the shadows. Without realizing what I was doing, I reached out to touch the tops of his wings, the feathers soft under my fingertips. I stroked them back and forth slowly, thinking of him moving between my legs, in and out…
As I toyed with his feathers, Salem took a shuddering breath. I stared at his mouth. Those perfect, full lips. Gods, the things I’d like him to do with that beautiful mouth, with his tongue, on his knees before me… He’d promised that, hadn’t he?
“It is insanely distracting when you touch my wings,” he murmured. “And that look on your face… it reminds me of how you looked before the Ollephest arrived.”
I nestled my head against his neck, remembering my vision on the boat. “Spanking,” I murmured.
I was startled to realize I’d spoken out loud, and already I could feel heat burning my cheeks.
“Did you say ‘spanking’?”
My muscles had gone rigid. “No. What?”
“It could certainly be arranged if that’s what you want, Aenor.”
We were soaring toward the palace now, and we rose higher. I licked the salt off my lips, holding on to Salem’s neck and peering down at the Court of Silks. The wind rushed up my dress as we flew, a cold balm against my thighs, skimming my silk panties like a light touch.
Get a grip, Aenor.
Salem let out a long sigh, the starlight washing the masculine planes of his face in silver hues. He looked into my eyes like he was trying to read my mind, and I almost felt like he could. “You should be queen.”
“Why are you so hung up on that idea?”
“I want to know that you’re protected when I go.”
My eyes were on his lips again, that perfect mouth. “I’ll be fine.”
“Aenor,” said Salem quietly, “does it seem like he let us in here too easily? We had a skirmish with the ice witches. But given our short time together, I’d grown to expect monsters and cataclysms every time we joined forces. Not just an aphrodisiac.”
I searched the skies around us, but I saw only a clear sky, twinkling stars. “It does seem too calm now. Maybe the ice witches are regrouping.”
“I think you could be right.”
A vision overtook my mind—Salem taking me up against a tree, my legs wrapped around his waist. I had to bite my lip to stop the fantasy from taking over my brain. “And I don’t imagine this Maid of Night will just hand over a cure, will she? What will she want in return?”
A wicked light danced in his eyes. “What does every woman want me to do to them?”
I felt a flash of jealousy. “What? I thought her whole thing was virginity.”
He shrugged. “Until she’s married. But she’s not marrying unless it’s the king. She wanted me to marry her, to become queen and to enjoy me in her bed every night. That was her price, the last time I asked. She was quite vexed when I turned her down.”
“Gods have mercy. If that’s the price, you can’t give it.”
“No, of course not. But I could let her think she’d won me over, if I must,” he said in a deep, calm voice. “You are my mate, which means I will protect you, whatever it takes. I just need you to play along with whatever comes up. I’m not sure what we will find when we meet her. But follow my lead, even if it seems strange. We may need to manipulate her, and we might need to be flexible.”
I looked down at my arms, watching the divine hex slip further up toward my elbows.
A bit of cold dread slid over my heart, cooling my desire.
This was my reckoning, sent by the gods. And whatever Salem thought, whatever faith he had in this Maid of Night, I wasn’t sure there was an easy way out of this.
But as another surge of pleasure crashed through me, all I could think of was the feel of his hands on my body.
Salem
I liked holding Aenor in my arms more than I should, the feel of her breath against my neck. When I returned to the heavens, I wondered if I would remember how it felt when her head nestled against me as we flew—that heating of embers in my chest.
I knew what it was like to fall. But I had no idea what it was like to ascend.
Would I still recall how I could hear her pulse racing when I moved nearer? That she smelled like wildflowers, that she bit her lip when she was thinking? I had no idea if I could store these memories for eternity, or if I would forget her as soon as I returned to the skies.
I wasn’t sure I’d remember Mag Mell, although once all of this had been my world. These rings of land had been filled with festivals. I’d tried to fill my emptiness with the pleasure of these streets. When I had been king, I’d stalk the nights here, a louche king, half-dressed. Every house had overflowed with wine and aphrodisiacs.
Which was why the emptiness—the quiet here—was so unnerving.
The man we’d encountered had said something about “just like the old days,” but I hadn’t asked him what he meant. Now, I wanted to know. What had happened to the Court of Silks?
I had a feeling I’d find out soon enough.
I swooped up toward the palace atop the jagged hill. A granite path curved along one of the slopes, leading to the entrance of the Horned Palace. The palace itself had the look of a looming Greek temple, but made of black marble, gleaming like volcanic rock. I set us down just before it, and Aenor slid from my arms, looking up at the building.
Steps led up to a towering, columned entrance, stark in the night. High above, a set of bull horns capped the palace’s roof—a sacred animal here.
We walked up the marble steps, toward an enormous sea-green door, fifty feet tall. I pressed my hand against it, and immediately, the door groaned open, revealing an empty hallway lined with columns. Torches lit a long pool of water in the center of the hallway, and brightly colored fish darted around in it. The place looked well cared for, at least, in better shape than the rest of Mag Mell.
I turned to Aenor, motioning for her to join me inside. She smiled at me again, a look of pure love and desire in her eyes… For just a moment, I forgot about the love potion, and I was sure that look she was giving me was completely authentic. In the next breath, I remembered that it was actually a magic-induced lie. A little measure of disappointment spilled through my chest, and I turned away from her.
Once the potion wore off, the coldness would return. Those words—your one true love—had poisoned everything.
With Aenor close behind me, I started walking through the hall, my footsteps echoing off the stone.
Excellent upkeep on the place, but still weirdly empty. Where were the people shagging up against the columns? The bare breasts, the debauchery?
“Salem,” Aenor said in a singsong voice that wasn’t hers, “are you sure you don’t want to swim? You would look so nice wearing nothing but seawater.”
There it was again, a hot flicker of excitement quickly snuffed out. “Soon, my favorite swan, we will have time for a night of swimming naked in the sea.”
She was a swan again, because now I could hear the whispers of people in the shadows. From behind the columns, they were watching us.
With a jolt of protectiveness, I slid my arm through the crook of Aenor’s.
They moved slowly, murmuring, their eyes wide. They lined the edges of the hall as I walked past the pool.
But this was not the Court of Silks as I remembered it. The men wore long, plain cloaks down to their ankles, with collars buttoned up to their necks. The women had dressed themselves in thick corsets and clothing of a dull material, covered from neck to ankle. Even their hair was covered in scarves.
Inch by inch, they moved closer, whispering and staring. Aenor was happily sashaying along, but their gaping eyes unnerved me.
Good thing we were nearl
y at the end of the hall, approaching the stairs to another set of doors. As we ascended, the doors creaked open on their own.
“Wow,” Aenor whispered as we crossed into the next hall.
Peaked ceilings arched high above us, formed of dark stone and ribs of gold paint. It was built like a cathedral, with a narrow pool where the nave would be. Torchlight dazzled off the water, and miniature boats floated over the surface. Aenor leaned into my shoulder, sighing.
Remember this.
And further down, where the altar would be, the two thrones of the court. One, an obsidian throne, stood empty. The other, made of pearls, held the Maid of Night.
I flashed her a seductive smile as we approached. Lady Richelle was a woman of mystery in some regards, but she’d never made her desire for me a secret. I let my eyes sparkle as we approached. I would show her that I belonged here as king—that I truly owned this place, and I was in control.
Already, she was leaning forward in her throne, eyes hungry. Fascinated.
Like the others, she wore a dress of rough wool, with a collar buttoned up to her neck. A tight corset shaped her waist into a severe hourglass, and a stark crown of jet rested on her head, spiked like thorns.
Her large green eyes slowly pulled from me to Aenor, and her grip on the arms of her throne tightened even more. She stared intently at Aenor’s legs, her cleavage. Her pointed tongue darted out, and she licked her lips.
Eyes on me again. “Salem, True King of Mag Mell.”
King Tethra must truly be on his deathbed. If he knew what they were saying about him, he would burn this entire court to the ground and fertilize his fields with the ashes.
“Lady Richelle, Maid of the Night.” I pulled my arm away from Aenor and strode up the dais. With a seductive smile aimed at Richelle, I dropped into the throne like I owned it. I crossed one leg, leaning back against the black rock. “It has been far too long.”
Aenor remained standing before us, looking up at me from beneath her eyelashes. She was swaying a little from side to side, still clearly enjoying herself.
Eyes on Richelle. My lips curled in a charming smile, and I draped my arms over the armrests. “This throne feels right to me.”
Murmurs rippled over the hall. With everyone in the shadows, I hadn’t realized how many people were lurking in the alcoves.
Richelle licked her lips. “You recently lit a clan of witches on fire.”
Now, silence pressed down over the hall, heavy as wet soil. The guard hadn’t liked the ice witches, but maybe Richelle felt a kinship with them. Maybe she wanted vengeance. Only a narrow, low table stood between our thrones, and I wondered if she’d be crawling over it soon, trying to kill me.
I let nothing show on my face. Instead, I looked at my fingernails, like I was already bored. “I did light them on fire. Let’s not dwell on that unpleasantness.”
She shrugged. “I don’t see it as unpleasant. They were my rivals, Salem. Mag Mell is in chaos, and everyone wants the throne. Some of the witches thought they might get it for themselves. Except they didn’t have a real claim, did they?”
I arched an eyebrow. “And you have one?”
Her gaze was sharp on me. “You’ve come here for a favor, haven’t you?”
She snapped her fingers, and after a few moments, a servant rushed out from one of the alcoves. The young woman held a tray of fruit and wine, blond hair trailing behind her as she hurried up the stairs, blushing. She slid the tray onto the stone table between the two thrones.
Richelle gestured at the fruit. “We don’t grow much here anymore, but for a special guest, we will bring out what we have. Please. Enjoy yourself.”
I shrugged slowly, then snatched a glass of wine, taking a sip. I rolled the fruity taste over my tongue, wishing I could give a sip to Aenor. Was she still thirsty?
“Salem,” said Lady Richelle. “What exactly brings you back to the Court of Silk?”
I gave her a wicked smile. “Lady Richelle, before I ask for what I want, why don’t you tell me what you desire? I know there is something you want from me.”
“I want a new ruler of Mag Mell.”
And there it was. We were beginning the negotiations—the ones where she would ask to be my queen. “And who did you have in mind, Richelle, as king of Mag Mell?”
“You, of course. Which is why you’ve been granted entrance here.”
I twirled the stem of my wineglass between my fingertips. “Of course. This is my kingdom, and it seems we’re all in agreement. I do look forward to igniting King Tethra’s body in the public square.”
Did they really think I wanted to be king here? A god ruling a crumbling little island kingdom. A shabby backwater full of idiots. I belonged reigning in the skies as the sun bled into the clouds.
But Richelle’s eyes were locked on Aenor, her expression a mixture of anger and fascination. “I want to know who this delight you brought with you is.”
My hackles rose. Whatever happened next, I’d have to play it very, very carefully.
Lady Richelle was already sensing a threat in Aenor.
Salem
“We no longer have swans in our Court of Silks.” Richelle’s voice was quiet, but it trembled, like she was choking down a powerful emotion.
Aenor was stroking her own hair, lost in the pleasure of the love spell. I wanted to get her somewhere alone.
“Well, perhaps you should. What harm is a stupid little swan?” I beckoned Aenor closer. “Aenor, pet, you may sit at the foot of my throne.”
My words actually managed to cut through the haze of her love potion sharply enough that she shot me a brief, angry look. But quickly enough, she schooled her expression into calm. Then she smiled sweetly and stepped up the dais toward the throne. Just as I’d instructed, she sat on the steps by my feet. It seemed she trusted me enough to play along.
I took another sip of the wine. “You may have rid your court of the swans, but I’ve done nothing of the sort. Aenor is my captive, one who crossed me long ago. She was once a powerful princess. Now, she’s a servant who obeys my every command. It is the ultimate conquest.”
“And why have you brought her here?” There it was again, that anger.
“She is ailing. The idiot got herself hexed, trying to free herself from me.”
“You must care for her very much to bring her all the way back into the Court of Silks, after you’ve been gone so long.” Her voice had taken on a dangerous edge.
“Care for her? My prisoner? I use her to amuse myself, and I don’t want my toy broken.”
Richelle was gripping the arms of her throne as she stared down at Aenor. “Oh? Is that all she is?”
Change the topic. “Of course. I have always enjoyed my conquests. You must remember. Tell me—why the change, Lady Richelle? Why rid the court of all the swans and the parties and the dancing?”
“We’ll get to that.” She licked her lips again, still staring at Aenor. “But I am curious what you do with her. Specifically.”
“Are you? Perhaps I will explain it in detail, once we become better acquainted.”
“Maybe someday this court will be one of pleasure again.” Richelle’s face was flushed, eyes glowing. “When you are king. But there is no pleasure in this court now. Not when King Tethra forces us to give all of our riches over to him. Not when we’re starving. The king’s taxes have become as insane as he is. But I have taught the people in this court that we have a wealth of magic. And like me, they understand that magic is stronger when you deny the base desires of your body. My perpetual virginity is my strength.” She gestured at some of the courtiers. “And now it is their strength, too. We grow strong through abstinence. It is their sacrifice to me. A leader grows strong through the sacrifices of her people.”
How absolutely dreadful. What was the point of having a body if you couldn’t enjoy it?
Sweat beaded on Richelle’s forehead. “Only once we have a new king can anyone enjoy the pleasures of the Court of Silks. Understand?”<
br />
Oh, yes, Richelle, I understand. No one here was fucking anyone unless I agreed to be king. “Quite the hardship.” I sipped my wine. “You have done a truly amazing job preserving your court. If I were to rule as king of Mag Mell again, I would need someone powerful by my side. A queen who knew how to rule as my equal.”
Richelle’s lips curled. “What you need is someone who has demonstrated the art of restraint over the years, as I have. A counterbalance to your indulgence. We would make a formidable pair. I could teach you temperance. Self-control.”
I would rather disembowel myself. “It’s just what I had in mind, Lady Richelle.”
Her eyes darted between Aenor and me. “Then you don’t plan to wed this prisoner of yours?”
“Wed?” My voice dripped with disdain. “She drowned my sister. I slaughtered her mother. Of course not.”
Richelle’s hands were on her thighs, and they moved up and down. “If you were king, would you keep her?”
“Well, Richelle, that would depend what my queen wanted. You seem rather fascinated with the concept of her servitude.”
Richelle’s pupils dilated, and her chest rose and fell fast. She loved the idea of a captive princess, didn’t she?
I beckoned Aenor up from the floor. “Aenor, pet, come closer.”
Obeying my command, Aenor rose and sat in my lap. I breathed in the scent of wildflowers, wanting to nestle and kiss her neck. I pulled her close to me—one hand on one of her thighs, the other around her ribs, just under breast. When I stroked her ribs lightly, I could hear her breath quicken.
“What do I do with her?” I said. “Whatever I want.”
Richelle looked enraptured, eyes wide, gleaming. They locked on my fingertips where I was stroking Aenor’s ribs. She leaned closer to us. “Do you make her walk around your palace naked?”
“She rarely wears clothes in my palace,” I said. “I like her to remember her purpose.”
“Do you touch her wherever you want? Do you claim her whenever it suits you?” asked Richelle. “And tell her she belongs to you?”
Sea Fae Trilogy Page 54
