Destined for the Fae King (Courts of Faery #3)

Chapter 7

I ’m awoken by a steady thump at the door and the sound of someone entering my room. When I crack my eyes open, light floods in through the windows.

“Good morning, Lady Mira.” It’s well past dawn, but Fia is entirely too perky for how exhausted I feel. “I trust you slept well.”

Terribly, actually. Two nights in Faery and both of them spent lying awake replaying my interactions with a certain fae prince who has gotten under my skin in all the worst ways. Yesterday I was still able to wake refreshed and excited about the day—call it adrenaline. Today…not so much.

However, as I sit up in bed, I catch a whiff of something that improves my mood considerably. Fia carries a small try which bears a covered plate and a large mug of what must be coffee.

“You remembered,” I remark as she sets the tray on my desk, moving aside the book I borrowed and barely touched in the process.

“Of course.” She gives a quick curtsy before picking up the coffee and bringing it over to me. “I let you sleep late. I hope you don’t mind. ”

“Not at all.” I take the warm mug and inhale a deep breath of the steam. That alone is a lift. The first sip nearly burns my throat, but it’s worth it, so worth it, for the way it instantly livens me up.

“I thought it wise because you may have a late night tonight.” A wide grin stretches across her pale face. "You’re all invited to dine with the king, and we’ve been told he may ask to spend time with some of you afterward.” She all but squeals with glee. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

Now, that perks me up even more than the coffee. “That’s great news.”

Finally, we can start this competition in earnest. Instantly, my mind shifts into planning mode: what to wear, how to get the best seat, topics of conversation.

“Do we know what kind of dinner it is?” I ask.

“A formal affair in the high dining room, which is the real reason I woke you. The tailors are here, but they’re not done with everyone’s clothes. They’ve brought what they’ve been working on so that you can pick your favorite for this evening and they can get it finished for you. They’ve already met with several of the others this morning.”

Which means I’m behind. I slip out of bed, nearly spilling a wave of coffee over the rim of the mug. My bare feet land on smooth tile warmed by the sunlight coming through the near window.

“I’ll see them now,” I say. “Is that all right?”

Her eyes widen. “Let me get your robe first.”

Fair. Greeting the tailors in an oversized T-shirt and sleep shorts probably isn’t a great idea. I did bring some nice lingerie sleepwear, but honestly, it’s for appearances only—if needed. As Fia hurries back with a long robe of crimson silk, I reluctantly set the coffee aside. It’ll have to wait .

We spend the next hour or so with a team of three who have me try on each outfit, not only to let me choose one for the evening but also to confirm that everything fits to their high standard of perfection. Mixed with beautiful gowns are a few more casual outfits too—flowing pants and tops, a few so shear I’m amazed I can’t see the mole on my hip.

All of the dresses are gorgeous, which doesn’t make picking one any easier. I avoided red during our brunch with the queen, seeing it as the obvious choice and wanting to stand out instead…not that Vasilius showed up. I’m sure several of the other women will wear some bright shade tonight too, but maybe more of them will change it up. In which case, it might help to favor the court colors. Maybe? My head almost hurts from overthinking it—as I’m prone to do—so I eventually just pick a lavish crimson-and-gold dress with flowing sheer sleeves and move on to inspecting the rest of the clothes.

“Are these yoga pants?” I say, lifting black pair that look suspiciously like ones I almost packed but are much softer and light as air.

“Oh, yes, I added those for you,” Fia says. “Some of the other women asked for some, so I thought you might like them also. A few women even went to the gardens to practice this morning, or so I heard. It could be a good opportunity to get to know them better. And who knows, maybe the king will even decide to stop by.” She winks.

I smile in return. “I like your thinking.”

It is a good idea. Besides, I’ll need something to do with my time if we have more idle days like yesterday.

The day passes quickly between fittings, a few self-guided walks around the nearby areas to get my bearings, and an ill-advised drop by our parlor, which earns a snide comment from Cora about hiding my face all morning followed by giggles from Katherine. I don’t dignify it with a response, preferring instead to chat a bit with Adeline and Grace, who confirm they did in fact practice yoga that morning and invite me to join them tomorrow.

Fia finds me long before dinner and insists on getting to work transforming me into what she calls “an enchanting vision the king won’t be able to ignore.” Her words, not mine. While I don’t exactly lack self-esteem, her confidence could put anyone to shame. Though the more she works her own practical magic on me, the more I believe her. My hair is smooth and soft yet crafted into artful waves and partially pulled back to perfectly accent my face. The makeup she’s applied is light and airy, highlighting and enhancing more than hiding or changing the way I look.

“You’re incredibly good at this,” I say after she rubs some cream across my lips that leaves them rosy and slightly glistening.

A bright flush rushes to her cheeks. “Thank you, Lady Mira.”

“Honestly though, I’m sure not every fae is this talented.”

Sharp teeth pull at her bottom lip, and she glances away. “No. I’m better than most.”

Just what I thought. And lucky me for having her help. “Why choose to be an attendant for The Choosing competitors then? Surely there are high-ranking fae who would dearly love your services.”

Her normally bright enthusiasm fades into sullen silence as she dips a brush into shimmering powder. She takes her time stirring the bristles through the glittering substance, and I worry I’ve made some faux pas.

Finally, she turns to me with the brush and says, “Close your eyes. ”

I comply, and she dusts the brush across one cheek then the other, down the slope of my nose, and a quick flick across my brow.

“All done.”

My skin shines, radiant with just a little extra bit of shimmer in the areas accented. The effect is subtle yet masterful. “I love it.”

I touch the tip of one finger to my cheek then inspect it, expecting to see some of the powder on my hand, but it’s still clean.

“It’ll come off with this.” She holds up a crystal vile with pale blueish liquid. “I’ll leave some in your wash room.”

She goes about straightening up her various brushes, jars, and creams, and I expect she won’t answer my question from before.

But then she says, “My family has been lower class for generations, living out in the southern jungles, but I was never satisfied with that.”

Fia halts her clean up and turns to me, not quite meeting my eye, a shy look on her face. There’s more, but she’s holding back.

“Go on,” I prompt.

She gives one short nod. “I worked hard at my skill and even found I could infuse some of my magic into my powders. That last one I applied is my own creation, hints of cool fire worked into fine sand. The high court loves it, and I was able to move my entire family here due to my success.”

“That’s amazing!” A self-made woman if there ever was one. “I knew you were talented. But then why work as an attendant at all?”

Her gaze flits away again, and she lowers her head a bit before looking back at me from under her lashes. “They like my work but not always me. They know where I come from and my family, and so many of the court still see me as less. But being an attendant for a potential future queen? That, they respect. And if you do become our next queen…”

Fia looks away again.

She doesn’t need to continue. Attending to the queen, being the one who helped her win the crown in a way, would elevate her status and reputation even more, probably bringing her as close to royalty as she could hope to come herself.

I rise and grab her hands where they’re folded in front of her. Fia gasps, her head snapping up so that she stares at me, her lips slightly parted.

“I understand. I’ve dreamed of coming here for years, and I know all about working to make one’s family proud and helping them rise in life. I’ll do my best, for both of us.” I squeeze her hands. “Even if I fail, I will make sure everyone knows how amazing you are.”

“You would do that?”

“Of course. Just keep bringing me coffee in the mornings.” I grin.

She giggles. “I can do that.”

When it’s time for dinner, we’re all ushered there as one big gaggle of women like we were for our meeting with Elaine the other morning. Though given that most of us are wearing dresses with voluminous skirts that nearly or do brush across the ground, we’re a long procession. Red and gold are still the dominate colors, but I can’t regret my choice. The front plunges down in a wide V-neck that ends between my cleavage and rises to my shoulders, where flowing, sheer sleeves drape over my arms down to the wrist. But it’s the skirt of the dress attached to the fitted bodice that’s the real show stopper. It’s made of layers of sheer material, like the sleeves, but they’re varying shades of crimson, yellow, orange, and gold and cut in various triangular patterns so that the whole thing looks like a flame that dances as I move.

Over the top? Possibly.

But given it’s our first dinner with the king, I mean to stand out.

Tharin gives me an appraising look as I pass by him at the doors to the dining room. His grin and nod say I’ve chosen my attire well. And thankfully, he hasn’t mentioned anything about the night before.

The dining room is massive. It could seat a hundred easily with room to spare, but tonight it’s only set with one long table in the center of the room. High-backed chairs painted or gilded in brilliant gold have their curved legs sitting upon a crimson rug the same shade as the cushions on the seats. The table itself is a dark ebony wood with golden place settings and tall bowls with flames seemingly hovering above them as a strange, magical candelabra.

But the real breathtaking part is the view. One long wall opens to a balcony, the heavy drapes pulled back and tied between each of seven archways giving a perfect view of the sun setting across the sand sea.

Standing in the center archway is King Vasilius, resplendent in a tailored coat of crimson and gold and dark pants tucked into black boots with golden accents. He wears his crown today, the rubies and his auburn hair gleaming in the sunset glow and adding to his ethereal aura. No one, human or fae, could look upon him like this and think him anything less than a king.

“Ladies.” He spreads out his arms in greeting and gives a slight bow of his head. “I’m glad you could all join me for dinner. The dowager queen will be joining us as well. ”

Not his brother? I wait for that addition, almost sighing aloud when it doesn’t come.

Several of the women have already rushed up to the king without invitation, crowding in around him and peppering him with questions and compliments. Katherine literally grabs his arm, and though she doesn’t seem to notice, I don’t miss his flinch or the way he subtly pulls away from her touch before thinking better of it and pretending like the visceral reaction didn’t just happen. I guess she’s not his type, which is good news for me.

“There will be plenty of time to talk,” he says over the din of women vying for his attention. “Please, choose a seat.”

Fae stationed near one side of the room move into action, placing themselves behind the rows of chairs on either side of the table, ready to pull them back for us like servers at a high-end restaurant. The two largest chairs—one at either end—are unattended. Spots for the dowager and the king.

Cora nearly knocks Gabriella down in her rush to claim a seat at one end. Adeline hurries just as quickly toward the other end. They’ve presumed the same thing as me, though I’d wager none of us know which side will be the king’s versus the queen’s. I land a space just off the middle. Hopefully, I’ll be close enough to the king to catch his ear and participate in conversation, no matter which side he sits on.

We’ve barely taken our seats when the main doors open and Elaine enters, accompanied by a guard. Vasilius, like the king he is, breaks away from the two women who linger near him rather than claiming a seat and rushes to her side. He’s the picture of gentlemanly grace as he leads Elaine to her seat on Adeline’s end. The beaming smile he gives her, so full of love, might make my knees weak if I wasn’t already sitting down. Maybe his relationship with his stepmother is the reason he hasn’t shown much interest in human women before. Maybe he just hasn’t found one that can compare. She does set the bar high.

But I’ve always enjoyed a challenge.

“Thank you all for joining us this evening,” the king says once he claims his seat. “One goal of The Choosing is for me to get to know you all better. While I have many pressing demands for my time, I will endeavor to arrange time with you all as well in the interest of finding the best human queen for the court.”

While he talks, servants slip into the room on near silent feet carrying plates of food—a colorful array of vegetables with a pale violet soup sprinkled with petals for this first course—which are set upon the charger plates in front of us. It smells divine, and I have to fight the urge to grab my silverware and dig in.

“With the help of my advisors and my dear mother…” He pauses to acknowledge her and allow us all to do the same. “Some activities have been planned over the next few days which should allow us the chance to get to know each other better.”

“The group dates begin,” Grace whispers at my side while fighting back a grin.

Across the table from her, Alexis rolls her eyes and mouths, You watch too much TV.

It really does feel like the opening episode of a reality show though or maybe the second, since the acceptance ceremony was grand—and scandalous on my part— enough to make a worthy episode on its own.

“In addition,” the king continues, “I will be asking each of you to spend some time with me one-on-one.”

That elicits a murmur of excitement around the table.

“I can’t wait to spend time alone with you tonight,” Cora announces, as if it’s some foregone conclusion that she’ll be first. The implication in her words isn’t lost either, at least not on the dowager, who gently clears her throat, not that Cora notices.

“We shall see,” the king says. “But don’t worry, each of you will have your time.”

“Likely several times,” Elaine adds with a pointed look at her stepson.

“Indeed.” The king lifts his fork before gesturing to the table with his other hand. “Shall we begin?”

Dinner is long, almost painfully so, yet my chances to jump into the conversation are few enough. Most of the women near Vasilius try to dominate the conversation by talking about themselves. He’s polite enough, nodding along and offering the occasional smile between small mouthfuls of food, but anyone paying attention can tell he’s bored. Oh, he tries to hide it all right, but even the best actor can only disguise their face for so long. Between the course of grilled fish and the subsequent one of a roasted bird that could almost pass for chicken, Vasilius and Elaine switch seats, allowing him to pay some attention to the other half of the table.

When Gabriella pauses her assault of questions to take a long sip of wine, I cut in with one of my own.

“What would you be doing right now if you had your choice, Your Majesty?” I ask.

The fork he’d lifted halts halfway to his mouth. His brows pinch slightly before he lowers the utensil, a slow grin spreading across his features.

The obvious answer would be he’s right where he wants to be, but that would be a lie. I know it, and so does he.

I blink at him innocently, but his growing smirk says he’s caught my game .

Conversation dies down as everyone awaits his answer. His eyes hood slightly before he says, “That might not be proper conversation for the dinner table.”

The accompanying wink stirs up a mess of butterflies in my stomach, but now that I have his attention, I’m loathe to give it up.

“Tomorrow, then. If you could choose any activity for us to do with you tomorrow, what would it be?”

He sets down the fork completely and crosses his arms as he reclines back in the chair. “Who says I haven’t planned tomorrow’s outing?”

“Have you?” I tease before hiding my grin behind a small sip of wine.

“I did not,” he confesses. “Tomorrow, we’ll be visiting with some of the younglings who live here in the capital.”

A few of the women let out excited gasps and turn to one another. The revelation makes my smile falter for the briefest moment. Kids are cute, sure, but my experiences with them amount to all of about nothing. Well, other than playing with my younger brothers. But I was still a kid when they were little, and those memories are dim. I have a feeling that kicking their butts at video games isn’t going to help me. Damn. I really should have volunteered or babysat or something before coming here. Hopefully, they’ll be older fae kids because, if we’re talking babies, I am so screwed.

“But if I could choose anything…” He trails off, thoughtful, waiting until all the attention is back on him. He soaks it in like a sponge but never fully looks away from me. “I do love a good duel or melee.”

Adeline squeaks in fright where she sits wide-eyed at his wide.

Across the table from me, Alex slaps her hand down, causing the dishes to rattle. “Now that, I could get behind. ”

Vasilius shifts his attention to her. “Perhaps we should make this happen after all, then.”

“Absolutely. I could best all of you, hands down.” She sweeps her pointed finger to encompass the whole table.

Honestly, I don’t doubt it. She’s all lean muscle with the build of a marathon runner and could probably knock half these women to their assess in two seconds flat. Well, except maybe Zoe, who leans from her seat next to Cora.

“Do we get our choice of weapons?” Mirth gleams in Zoe’s green eyes. “I’ve had years of fencing lessons. You don’t have a chance if I get a saber in my hands,” she taunts Alex.

“I’m in,” I add. I probably wouldn’t win, but I doubt I’d be the first one out either. Plus, if it would make Vasilius happy, then why not?

The king chuckles. “I’m not sure my advisors would like it if there was a risk of you all getting injured.”

“Or me,” Elaine adds with a loud sniff. “There’s no need for women to beat at each other with swords.”

Zoe cocks her head, thoughtful. “You don’t think women should defend themselves?”

The dowager notches her chin higher. “Not with swords.”

Grace barely muffles her huff, and though I try to keep my features neutral, I can’t help but agree with the sentiment. What an antiquated way of thinking.

It’s Bailey who breaks the awkward silence that follows, her soft, even voice snaring attention in a rare display of outspokenness. “I wonder if Wren thought the same thing before she was taken.”

Wren, the current consort and likely future queen of the King of Air. Selena has been her number one fan lately and told me everything she’s learned about her. Apparently she’s been a major topic of conversation among the coven too. A gifted human from a family that wasn’t on our radar, stealing the heart of a king? And not only that—she was captured by the Unseelie, taken right out of the Court of Air amid hundreds of fae including the king. A traitor was involved they say, but still, if there could be some in the Court of Air, there could be in Fire too. As long as the Unseelie have a null, as long as there is tension between the Seelie and Unseelie, is anyone truly safe?

“You’re all bound to me,” Vasilius says, holding up his wrist, which bears multiple overlapping bands of magical ink like a twisted bracelet. “They can’t take you away. I will not make the same mistake as the King of Air.”

“For the duration of The Choosing,” Bailey says. “But what about after?”

Because Wren had been bound too, and the very day that bond released, the Unseelie snatched her. Whoever becomes queen could be a target, as would any other humans who stay. That’s why he suggested our families return to Earth after all.

All traces of mirth vanished from the king’s face. “That’s one more reason why the Unseelie threat will need to be dealt with soon.”

His attention settles on Elaine, unspoken words passing between them that thin the dowager’s lips before they wrinkled with distaste. Maybe that is the business that has kept Vasilius busy recently.

“Enough talk about that.” The king turns to the attendants waiting near the side of the room. “Bring out dessert. Let us have something sweet to wipe away such dark thoughts.”