“Thank you.”
Kaya frowns. “It seems the human world could stand to learn a few things.”
“More than a few,” I say.
“Well then,” she says, perfect confidence infusing her form again, “I shall just have to travel to the human world and make sure they understand.”
“I would love to see that,” I say, laughing. “You would take New York by storm. I know some humans who would kill to be dressed by a fae, even if that fae chose to dress them in nothing but leaves and thread. You could be queen of the fashion world.”
For a moment, she pauses. “I shall think about that. Right now, your companions are waiting for you, and so is the Rialoir.”
Merina waves. “We shall see each other again!”
Kaya loops her arm through mine and walks me back through the maze of hallways. “I very much would like to see you again,” Kaya says. “After you are healed. You can tell me more about becoming a queen of New York.”
“I’d like that,” I say, just before she’s swept me up in a hug that’s both bone-crushing and tender at once.
“Enjoy tonight,” she whispers. “However that enjoyment presents itself to you.”
And then she’s gone, and I’m alone just inside the front door. I can hear voices on the other side of the door. Their voices. Kent, Brae, Aeric, and Verys. It’s a soft murmur of masculine sound, and suddenly I’m nervous. They’re going to see me in this dress and this make-up and…what are they going to think? The little box in my pocket seems suddenly heavy.
Nausea rolls up through me from my stomach, pain slicing out into my limbs in a flash before it dissipates. I can still breathe. I’m still fine. I can do this. Before I open the door, I make sure that my expression is neutral and there’s no sign of the pain that I just felt. If I express any pain at all, they will know.
I open the door and step out into the portico. The men are standing at the base of the steps, and when I step out, Verys and Brae go silent. They’re already facing me. Kent and Aeric are not, and it takes them a beat to hear their companion’s silence and turn.
All their eyes are burning into me, each expression different, and yet there’s one thing that’s the same: heat. That heat floods my body in a flush.
Verys seems stunned, standing utterly still and staring. Brae’s expression contains an awe that I don’t understand and that I do not feel I deserve. In Aeric’s eyes I see that same hunger that I saw earlier today—the kind that knocks my breath away and makes me wonder what he’s thinking, and what he would do if we were alone.
I see that same desire in Kent’s face along with something deeper. More sure. But all of their gazes are on me as I descend the steps to them. None of them have said a word, and I can’t help but think that Kaya is very good at what she does. The dress certainly makes an impact.
A good one, I think.
“Hi,” I say softly.
Brae is suddenly in front of me, capturing my hand and pulling it to his lips. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you.”
I take in their appearances then, and holy shit, I haven’t seen any of them look like this before. Granted, we’ve been on the run without rest, but even if we hadn’t, this would be a good look. Smooth fabrics and rich colors formed into trousers and shirts, over which they each wear a layered vest. The one that Brae has on looks like there might be boning in it. Each one of them is tailored to the person, and it makes every bit of difference.
Their clothes show off the power in their bodies without sacrificing the style or grace. Even Kent, who seems a bit uncomfortable in the foreign clothing, looks damn good.
I’m staring at them and they’re staring at me, and yet none of us know what to say. Before anyone can, the rose-skinned fae male appears again, and Verys offers me his arm. I take it, letting him guide me away. But this time his hand on my skin feels different. It’s probably everything that Kaya and Merina said. I have to be imagining it.
Right?
Maybe.
Those stares didn’t feel like nothing.
But immediately my mind tells me that it can’t be real. That it’s impossible. That it’s not right or proper. I never thought that I really cared about what was right and proper, but I never considered this possibility either. If that’s what’s happening. Oh god, how do I even untangle this?
Aeric is walking next to our escort, and though they’re speaking softly, I see that he’s looking around, making sure that we’re safe and that he’s totally aware of our surroundings. Ever the protector.
Verys’s voice is quiet enough that only I can hear him speak. “Are you all right? Were they kind to you?”
“I’m fine,” I swallow. “And they were lovely. The ones that stayed. Why?”
Glancing over, I see a tiny smile playing on his lips. “I can practically hear your thoughts buzzing. You’re anxious.” I open my mouth to ask him how he could possibly know that, but he beats me to it. “Your face is easy to read. Your emotions are always near the surface. It’s one of the reasons watching you in so much pain is difficult for us.”
“One of the reasons?” I breathe. “There are other reasons?”
Kent appears on my other side before Verys can answer. “Kari, look.”
We’re approaching the palace at the center of the Crystal Court, and the source of the impossibly tall white spires that we saw outside of the city. Now that we’re in front of it, it’s like walking into the most beautiful dream. The palace itself is white like the spires, some parts of it clear like glass, and the white occasionally bears streaks of colors so pure an artist could never capture them.
I was so caught up in my own thoughts, that I forgot to look around. There’s so much to see, every exquisite detail whether it’s the garden of stone and crystal flowers that blooms on the side of the street to shops and stores that hold beautiful trinkets that humans can only dream of.
I’m soaking in everything around me, overwhelmed with the beauty of it all. I want to remember every second, but there’s so much that I’ll never be able to. Maybe I’ll be able to come back, explore and enjoy it when my life isn’t at stake.
But I notice that I’m not the only one who’s staring. There’s a fair amount of fae who watch us pass with open curiosity. If Kaya has never met a human before, I’m guessing that the few humans who manage to travel to Allwyn rarely get this far. Or perhaps they’re generally unwelcome. But unlike the females who refused to be in the same room with me, I don’t sense hostility in these stares, merely interest in something new, perhaps wondering about the circumstances for our visit and the strange composition of our party.
Outside the gates of the palace, we pass a building that’s even more beautiful. The stone of the structure erupts from the ground like it grew that way, rising up into the form a blooming rose that’s tipped towards the sky as if seeking light. The pale stone shifts color as I watch, a giant opal flower. Fae enter and exit reverently, and it’s not until I see the fae dressed in simple white robes that I realize it’s a temple to the Goddess. The Fae deity, the source of their magic, and the protector of this incredible world.
I’m drawn to it. There’s a need so fierce in my chest that I take a step towards it before being halted by Verys’s hand. His face searches mine, and I want to know what he’s looking for. Then he nods. “We will seek the guidance of the Goddess before we leave the city,” he says.
Yes.
A small voice inside says. Good.
That urgent pull releases me, and we’re ushered through the gates of the palace—monumental gates of black and grey stone even more imposing than the ones at the edge of the city.
More fae guardians protect this gate, uniforms starkly white and black with broadswords and bows strapped to their backs. The variety of colors in the fae is made even more vibrant because of their stark clothing and the icy glow of the palace.
The same effect occurs inside, where every color that’s put in front of the pale and clear cr
ystal seems rich and pure in comparison. Even my companions seem more alive. I get caught up in staring at Aeric’s green skin and the crimson shimmer of his clothing. Brae’s honey coloring is warm and inviting and reminds me of his magic and the moments we share together.
I look down to hide the flush on my cheeks from that thought. He didn’t say no. He kissed me like we were lovers. There’s the smallest chance that Kaya was right. Even if it seems impossible.
My own dress is nearly glowing against the white floor, and I see intricate carvings beneath our feet. Abstract designs of flowers and animals and stones. Stories too, like I’ve seen before. This court likes to record their history in stone so that it’s never forgotten, and I resist the urge to reach down and feel the relief of the carving.
We’re escorted through a long hallway with vaulted ceilings that remind of the cathedrals back in New York, with stained glass windows that I’m sure are not actually glass. They’re intricate, with stories and images just as detailed as the other carvings, and I would love to see them during the daylight, back-lit and shining through. This hallway is probably a riot of color then, lending an entirely different atmosphere.
I hear the music before I see it, lively and joyous, and at once beautiful. At the end of the hallway is a tall archway of the same white stone, opening onto a space that’s even larger. Through it, I can see swirling colors as fae dance in complicated patterns that I can barely follow.
The whole room is too much to take in. The ceilings vault so high that they recede into dimness, though there are spots of colored light that illuminate fluted, arching, circles. It’s like little bits of magic got lost and floated up to the ceiling.
In this room, the white and clear stone that makes up the rest of the palace is nowhere present. This is the very embodiment of the Crystal Court.
The walls are made of jagged crystal formations, colors flowing on into the next. Amethyst, ruby, flame, lapis, emerald, onyx, stones that shimmer and some that shine like stars. The floor beneath my feet is polished so the reflections in it appear perfectly. A warm blue stone cut in half, that for all the world makes me feel like I’m walking on petrified water.
The edges of the crowd of dancers notice us as we enter, and I can almost feel the ripple of whispers whirl through the room.
I can see the King—or Rialoir, as I was told the title is in Allwyn—through the crowd of dancers, and he’s not what I expect. When I think of a King, I see an old man with graying hair and a crown. The fae sitting on the throne is young and hale, dressed entirely in crimson. It looks fierce against skin of deep brown, and on the throne by his side is an equally beautiful female. Her skin is pale blue, hair white, and she’s delicate. But her clothes match her husband in blood-red crimson, and I know that though she looks delicate, she is not.
The Rialoir raises a hand, and the music falls into silence, a few stray notes leaving bouncing echoes in the silence. The crowd parts, and we’re led up to the two thrones, which are utterly clear and smooth. Their facets cast rainbows around the room, landing on the walls and the fae and on me. I can only imagine the effect of the sun. What is it like to sit on a throne that’s made of diamond?
We stop just short of the thrones, and Kent and I follow suit when the fae bow to the pair sitting on them. They’re both looking at us with open and fervent curiosity. When he speaks, the Rialoir’s voice is resonant and easily fills the entire space. “Welcome to the Crystal Court.”
“Thank you, Rialoir.”
“This was well worth my hospitality,” he says, sharp gaze fixing on me. “I’m eager to hear why such a strange group is traveling on foot through Allwyn. But first, we shall eat.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
________
KARI
It’s been hours, and still the banquet is going. The Rialoir had waved his hand, and the huge room was filled with tables absolutely laden with food. Some of the most amazing edible creations that I’ve ever seen, even though my plate is still empty.
All five of us were seated near the Rialoir and Rialoia, and we told the story. Or rather, mostly the fae told the story. The Rialoia kept glancing at me in sympathy as they spoke, but I didn’t say anything. For the most part, I had been unconscious, and I wasn’t about to tell the rulers of the Crystal Court that I needed to masturbate in order to stay alive. I did fill in the bits in New York before Allwyn.
But when the story had reached its current point, the Rialoir turned to me. “You saw your attacker?”
“Yes.”
It was the queen—the Rialoia’s—voice this time. “Would you permit me to see her?”
“How?”
“There is a priest at the temple who can access memory. Before you depart, I would like to see this fae.” The deadly poison in her voice made me shiver, and I knew that if the female that attacked me ever crossed paths with this queen, she would not survive.
“Of course,” I said.
“Thank you.”
I saw the Rialoir take her hand, and he pulled it to his lips, kissing it softly before leaning over and kissing her. Deeply and proudly, not at all embarrassed or hesitant. She returned his kiss, and when he pulled away, her eyes were glistening with pleasure and love. He was looking at her in the same way, the pang of longing in my chest was enough to make me reach up and make sure I did not have an actual wound.
I decided that I wanted that. I wanted exactly that. Bold and unashamed love. He caught me staring, and smiled. But the smile faded when he looked down and saw the empty plate in front of me. “Kari, you are welcome here, and my guest. Are you not hungry?”
All three fae males around me snapped to attention, suddenly noticing that I haven’t eaten and wondering why. They all looked at me with concern, and I could feel them asking if the pain had returned enough to prevent me from eating. But it wasn’t that, and they had not noticed that there was no food on Kent’s plate either. I opened my mouth and closed it again.
“Forgive me,” I said. “I did not know how to ask.”
“Ask?” The Rialoia’s voice reached me.
“There are stories in the human world about the dangers of eating fae food. Very few of those stories about fae have turned out to be true so far, but—”
“But because you already have been attacked once by fae, you did not know for sure if the food would trap you in Allwyn?” She asked, a sympathetic smile on her face.
I squeezed my eyes shut in embarrassment, but I didn’t immediately hear laughter. When I opened them again, the Rialoir was looking at me in confusion. “There are stories of humans being trapped by fae food?” He looked fascinated, and his wife beside him looked amused. “Please, tell me more. And I assure you that nothing you eat here will keep you here or harm you in any way.”
And so Kent and I shared the worst stories and rumors of the fae that humans had created throughout the years, and the fae shared which portions of the stories were true. Not many. Ash wood was extremely painful to the fae, and no one has ever known why. And some stories came out of isolated incidents or were blown out of proportion.
In return, both the rulers and fae around us shared stories of the human world that had Kent and I laughing as we ate. And we ate.
Bread that was lighter than air with jams from exotic fruits and warm honey from flowers only found in fae realm sent me straight into bliss. Every flavor was enhanced. Fae fowl with citrus glaze cut through with sharp spice. Sweet rose cakes filled with sticky white chocolate and frosting that could be seriously addictive. Goblets of peach mead that was cooling and warming at once. Greens sprinkled with ginger and lemon. Small bowls of sherbet that tasted of lavender and cream and cardamom.
It was enough food that I barely remembered that I hadn’t eaten much the last few days. The magic that had been keeping me alive also had set aside my need for food, or so Brae told me. But the minute the food touched my lips I wanted more, and I ate till I was full. More than full. And now, hours later filled with dancing and conversat
ion, I’m starting to feel sleepy. The fae of the Court aren’t showing any signs of exhaustion, and I’m jealous of their stamina.
“Will you dance with me?” The words are soft and come from behind me. I hadn’t even noticed Brae leave his chair a couple of seats down and approach.
Looking out at the crowd, I see the intricate steps that flow from the dancers as smoothly as butter, and I hesitate. In our conversation about fae misconceptions, we already covered the fact that I won’t be compelled to dance to death if I start. But even as a trained dancer there’s no way I’ll be able to keep up with that. “I don’t know the steps.”
“You don’t have to,” he says, smiling softly. “I’ll lead.”
He holds his hand out to me, and this feels like another one of those moments—a choice to go forward or back. I take his hand, and he pulls me up from my chair in one graceful motion. We approach the other fae, and I watch them as they move. It seems so in unison, like they must have practiced for hours or years.
Brae pulls me against him, and I’m swept up into the music. I understand. The music is the magic. I don’t have to think about the steps. They’re there in my mind. All I have to do is breathe, and I know what to do. Breathing is a little difficult when I’m pressed up against Brae, the reminder of his body and what he did to me with just a hand.
What could he do with more?
Strings weave their melody and sounds that are deeper. Not human instruments. Sounds that speak of the earth and stone, and everything that makes up this beautiful Court. I move with it. With him. With them. And I’m not surprised by the stories of the endless dancing. I feel like I could do this forever.
God, how long has it been since I danced? Really danced? At one point in my life I thought it would be impossible to forget the freedom of this feeling, but it’s all come rushing back, and the joy that breaks through my chest carries me higher. I can’t keep the smile off my face as Brae pulls me closer and we weave through the other couples dancing. In and out, back and around. We join together and break apart and coming back to dancing feels like freedom.
Fevered: A Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (The Carnal Court Book 1) Page 9
