A Dream of Fate & Flesh (Courts of Malice #2)

4. We All Have Debts to Pay

four

We All Have Debts to Pay

Alessia

E oin has sent the pixies with a white rose every day since I arrived at Terra Court.

Seven flowers total so far, and I’ve crushed them all. It’s an inconsiderate peace offering.

Tonight, like the previous nights, we head to the ballroom together. Dragging my feet, I trudge behind Eoin, staring blankly at the back of his head as he goes through his pre-ball ritual. He obsessively smooths his shirt, then flattens his hair out of his face and steels his spine. He does this a few times as if it’s a nervous tic.

“Don’t use your magic on me tonight,” I blurt, unable to hold it back any longer. It’s not quite a command, but it’s not a plea like it once was.

“You’ll be kind to my guests?”

“Yes. I’ll be a good little…” The word dolly echoes in my mind, and I wince. “Girl,” I finish, stuffing down the memories of the lord’s estate. Eoin isn’t Lord Edvin. He’s not that bad.

We pause at the entrance to the ballroom. Eoin adjusts his collar and then studies me.

“Are you going to tell me how you survived Rainer’s court now?” he asks. “The woods and …you know, him . ”

“There’s nothing to tell.” He’s been bugging me about it, trying to uncover some secret he thinks I possess to overcome Rainer’s power.

“But it’s unbelievable to me that—”

I twirl in my flats, putting my back to the Terra Prince and striding into the ballroom. I don’t want to hear him tell me again how a weak little human like me shouldn’t have been able to survive. Gods, he’s exhausting.

And so are these events.

My dress’s stiff lace and mesh rub my skin, and I bristle. I scan the ballroom for passing servers, desperate for wine—something to take the edge off. I know I said I’d stay sober, but I haven’t been able to make it through a single night yet without drinking.

“You are oddly out of place,” a curious voice says.

I turn with a sigh, not in the mood to engage with any of Eoin’s handsy revelers, and already wishing I had alcohol.

A silver-haired faerie stands a few paces away, nursing a goblet of wine. His eyes pierce me, almost the same color as the hair curling around his sharp ears, but glittery, metallic. He’s as beautiful as the rest of them, but unlike the whimsical garb of Terra Court, he’s dressed in heavy layers with velvet finishes.

“Trust me, I know,” I murmur, still searching for a server with a drink tray. “I don’t belong in any realm, apparently.”

The mysterious male laughs, and it’s a kind sound. “I meant here, among the likes of Terra Court.” He steps toward me, hands me his glass of wine, and leans in conspiratorially. “You don’t seem as frivolous as the others.”

Slowly, I accept the glass, peering into it skeptically. The fae haven’t exactly proven themselves to be trustworthy .

“You looked like you could use a boost.” He grins. “I haven’t touched it yet.”

Before I can decide whether or not to drink it, it’s pried from my hands, and an arm lands on my shoulders. “Leave her be, Ezamae.” Eoin’s voice causes me to groan internally, and I go rigid beneath his touch, bracing for his empath power.

When the warm static of magic never comes, I relax slightly.

Eoin takes a sip of the wine, then hands it back to the silver-haired stranger—Ezamae—who lifts an unamused brow.

“ Prince Eoin,” Ezamae says, a sly grin stretching on his pretty face. “I wish I could say it’s a pleasure, but fortunately, we both know that’s false.” He straightens, the grin never leaving, and slowly turns away before disappearing into the crowd.

I spin away from Eoin, exasperated, and put space between us. “Keep your hands off me.”

Eoin forces a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Be wary of that Ezamae.” He glances past me, nodding at a group of passing faeries, then turns his attention back to me. “He’s an enchanter.”

“I doubt he’s worse than you,” I mutter.

Eoin, despite his enhanced fae hearing, continues as if I hadn’t spoken. He steps closer and lowers his voice. “Enchanters use their magic to seduce—they thrive off pleasure and seek it in the form of flesh.”

Oh .

My cheeks heat. Staying away from Ezamae is indeed a grand idea. I’m not interested in any such pleasures from strange males.

“Would you like to join me for an evening of fun, Alessia?” Eoin asks, his voice returning to its standard octave. “Innocent fun, not the kind Ezamae partakes in, of course. ”

Fun.

What is fun? I’m not sure I ever had the time and space to discover the definition of that word.

The closest I’ve had to fun is training with Ken and Viv or playing in my dreams with Rainer. In the week I’ve been here, I haven’t seen Rainer in my dreams—I’ve barely slept. And when I do, I have nightmares of Char’s final moments. Of Felix’s lifeless body.

Just when I thought I was coming back from the worst moment in my life, losing Char, I was knocked back to my knees.

All too often, our highest highs in life tend to be followed by the lowest of lows. I can only hope new highs follow these lows.

“I’m not sure I know how to have fun,” I admit.

Eoin frowns, cocking his head. He holds out a hand. “Come.”

I stare at his outstretched hand, hesitant to touch him skin-to-skin.

He steps closer, wiggling his fingers. “I won’t use my power if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“I’m not afraid of that,” I say, steeling my spine. “I just don’t want you touching me.” I want to dreamwalk with Rainer and see him again. I’m starting to worry he’s somehow avoiding me, which hurts more than his pushing me away initially does.

“Dance with me,” Eoin says.

“I don’t know how to dance.”

He gives me a coy look. “On the contrary, I remember you dancing quite well during Ostara.”

The implication makes my face burn. I once thought he was kind enough to kiss. Or perhaps I was simply drunk enough.

As if he can guess my train of thought, he whirls around to snag two golden goblets of faerie wine from a passing servant’s tray .

“Here.” He extends his arm, offering me the beverage. “I should be getting my guest her drinks, not Ezamae.” His tone is curiously bitter.

My fingers itch to accept the offering, knowing it will quell my unease. Without pausing to consider how uncouth it makes me look, I throw the wine back, chugging it in one go.

Eoin stares at me, blinking in surprise. “I can help you with those… maddening feelings a lot more than the wine can.”

“No. I’m fine.”

His frown deepens. “You’re quite on edge. How about we try meditative breathing? Can we take a deep breath together?”

I give in, obliging his desire to breathe together to appease him. It could be much worse. All things considered, the Terra prince has been fairly decent to me. I would choose this life over the one in Dovenak any day…except it’s still not my life.

“Good,” Eoin murmurs after a few intentional breaths. He inclines his head, giving me an appraising look. “You look divine tonight, Alessia.” He sips his wine and then steps closer, eyes flicking to my lips. “I must say, I’m rather pleased you’re being so… amicable, all things considered.”

His words wrap around a thread inside me, tugging at it and unspooling a tangle of emotions. Amicable, or does he mean amenable ? I’m good at it, letting others push and pull me in whichever direction suits them.

Rainer pushed… Eoin pulled… and here I am, ripping at the seams.

Before I can spiral into my thoughts again, a pixie whizzes into the space between me and Eoin, effectively snagging his attention. It’s the same blue-winged pixie who brought me the rose. It offers me a soft smile, nodding in respect, before turning to Eoin, whose demeanor shifts into something stiff and fierce. His grip on the goblet tightens, and his knuckles turn white.

“Prince,” it says. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but your attention is required in the infirmary.” It does a little backflip in the air. “It’s imperative.”

Eoin mumbles something and downs his wine before thrusting the goblet at a passing servant.

“Fine,” he says. He adjusts the gilded circlet of branches atop his head, squares his shoulders, and strides away from the party, toward the main hallway.

“Wait,” I call after the pixie.

It flits back, buzzing chaotically in front of my face. “The rose—what does white mean?” I remember Rainer once telling me that each rose color has its own meaning. I wonder what game Eoin is playing and what point he’s trying to make.

“I don’t know,” it squeaks out before flitting away.

Someone sidles up beside me, the warmth radiating off their body, their sweet floral scent wafting off their skin.

“Our pixie infestation is a… new occurrence,” she says, her voice rich and sweet. “You will have to forgive their intrusions. They seem rather taken with you.”

“Princess Sennah.” I turn, taking in her high cheekbones and doe-eyes. “You’re back.”

Her hair cascades around her shoulders in golden waves. A wispy, delicate dress clings to her curvy frame. She reeks of luxury and privilege, though her demeanor is warm and playful. It’s hard to guess at her intentions with me .

I’m not socially skilled with humans, let alone mischievous royal faeries. Each one I encounter seems to have a trick or two ready. Though she’s been kind to me, I can’t be certain of her intentions.

She cocks her head, staring in the direction her brother and the pixie went, with a hand planted on her hip. “Whatever do you think is going on with my brother? He appears rather disappointed with that summons, no?” If I’m not mistaken, her voice has a hint of humor.

“I’m not sure,” I say.

“I admit, I might’ve had something to do with that.” She giggles. “I wanted to speak with you alone.”

“Why?” I bite my lip, holding back the urge to ask how Rainer is doing. She stayed at his court this past week. Eoin has whined about Sennah avoiding him—choosing the Umbra Prince over her flesh and blood—but instinct tells me there’s more to it.

I’m desperate to know what’s going on.

Sennah studies me with sharp eyes and a grin on her bright red lips. “Ask what you truly want, darling human.”

I lower my gaze, twisting my hands in my skirts. “I...”

Her hand whips out, gently grabbing my fingers and detangling them from the fabric. “Confidence,” she says. “Confidence will get you everywhere.”

I drop my dress and attempt to smooth the wrinkles. “Okay.”

She gently grips my shoulders, pushing them back. “Stand up tall.” Then she puts a finger under my chin, tilting it up. “Unclench your jaw. Soften your brow.”

I follow her instructions, letting my face relax. Her smile grows.

“Now, ask me what you really want.” Her eyes twinkle.

“How’s he doing?” I whisper.

“You should know,” Sennah says, her voice low, “that Rainer is a very persistent male.”

Hearing his name sends a blaze of heat through me. “What do you mean?”

Sennah smirks, removing her hand. “When there is something he wants, he’s a stubborn bastard who doesn’t give up easily.”

“He didn’t seem to mind letting me go,” I mutter, a heavy rock settling in my gut despite the dozens of questions burning my lips.

A server passes by with a tray of wine, and I snatch another goblet, throwing back a gulp.

“Oh, he’s quite unhappy about it.” She frowns, eyeing my wine. “Why do you think my dear brother intends to win your favor?”

Chatter and string music fill the tense silence between me and the princess. A couple of faeries pass, and Sennah offers them polite nods.

She steps closer to me, nudging my slippered foot with the toe of her glass heels. “Did you hear me, Alessia?” she asks, voice like honey.

“Hm?” I say, feigning confusion. I bring the goblet to my lips, busying myself with another swallow of the rich, fruity liquid.

“Eoin.” She frowns. “He wants to steal you from Rainer. Steal you—heart, body, and mind. Quite a feud between those two.”

“That sounds… disturbing,” I say. “I’m not interested in your brother.”

“He’s quite competitive, too. Those males…” She laughs, then takes a deep breath, clapping her hands excitedly. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Warn me?”

“Of my brother’s intentions.”

“Why are you telling me any of this?” I ask. “Isn’t it a betrayal to Eoin to warn me of him?”

“Rainer is a friend…” She gazes wistfully around the ballroom. “Eoin is my brother, yes, and I shall always look out for him, but it does not mean I root for the Umbra Prince’s downfall. They’re both adequate rulers in their own right, and I’d appreciate them each staying right where they are. We do not need war between the courts—especially not because of some little human.” Her eyes rake over me, but it’s more curious than condescending. “No matter how adorable she is.”

I scrutinize her just as hard, trying to figure out how I feel about the Terra princess.

“Why do you rule?” I ask, finally finding my voice. “Why not leave it to Eoin? Especially if he’s so dead-set on ruling a court that he’ll disturb other courts’ peace over it?

A hearty laugh bursts from her mouth, and I jolt at the unexpected sound. “And miss out on the fun?” Her eyes sparkle. “Oh, sweet, naive human. Hasn’t your time with Rainer taught you anything?”

Annoyance buzzes like a gnat beneath my skin.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I whisper, more to myself than Sennah.

She spins, lifting a goblet from a passing server. I chug the rest of my wine, give the empty goblet to the server, and smile in silent thanks. A hiccup escapes, and I quickly cover my mouth. Sennah sips her wine, keeping her eyes locked on mine the whole time.

She tilts her cup toward me. “You’ll quickly become the Fern of Terra Court if you continue on this path.”

The aftertaste of fruity wine turns bitter in my mouth as shame courses through me. Worse, Sennah’s words feel like judgment .

“You don’t know Fern, and you certainly don’t know me,” I say.

She steps forward and leans in close to my ear. “No, but I do recognize when someone gives in to their self-pity, becoming nothing more than a shell of themselves, wasting away their potential.”

I pull back, registering the severe look on her face. Her words remind me of Rainer: “ Are you the girl who fights? ”

“There’s no way out of this,” I say, fighting the urge to wrap my arms around myself. Instead, I stand tall, mimicking Sennah’s posture. “I was bargained away. I’ve lost my free will.”

She rolls her eyes, and the casual gesture takes me aback. “Most of the fae are idiots when it comes to bargains. They leave holes, trick each other, and sometimes underestimate their foes.”

There’s a long pause, and Sennah’s gaze bores into me.

My frown deepens. I try to decipher her words, but I’m not as sharp with the wine coursing through my veins. My head is light and buzzy, and my problems are a world away. “If you’re suggesting I make a deal of my own, no way.”

She sighs, flicking her silky hair over her shoulder. Her bracelets jingle faintly over the string music. “Think. Why would Eoin dote on you, try to win you over?”

I blink a few times as I process. “So I like him?”

“But why would that matter? Why would he care if you like him?”

“So I stay?”

Her smile grows, and she raises her brows. “But why would it matter if you choose to stay of your own volition if he already owns you?”

I think back to the bargain Eoin and Rainer made.

“Wait,” I say. She cocks her head, wearing a smirk. “Are you saying I’m not stuck here?”

She offers a tiny shrug, but a light blazes through her eyes. “I’m not not saying that.”

I squint, trying to decipher that. “What? That’s—never mind. There was magic… it made me leave with Eoin.” I couldn’t fight it. Gods know I tried the entire time.

“Remember exactly what his payment was? Think carefully.”

An echo of Eoin’s words rings through my mind. “I am taking Alessia back to Terra Court. Consider this your debt paid…

“Rainer didn’t want me,” I whisper, the rejection slicing my heart.

“You know that’s not true.”

“He made his choice.”

“He, like you, is wallowing in self-pity and letting fear rule his life.” Sennah makes a contemplative sound. “Unlike you, he’s at least trying to change.”

Her words are a slap to my face. I have been wallowing, haven’t I? Waiting for things to change without taking any real action myself.

The wound inside me grows deeper, my pain for the Prince of Fear cleaving my heart practically in two. Rainer doesn’t know anything other than fear. It’s who he is, yet he fights his very nature in hopes of a better future.

“Why are you helping him?” I ask again. “Especially with how your brother hates him.”

She chuckles softly, a nostalgic look overtaking her features. “Because we all have debts to pay.”