Lannahi inclined her head. “And you, sister? You too are too shy to invite me?”
Letiri grinned. “Lannahi,” her sister basically purred her name, “You know that you have an open invitation. But I must warn you that my court is not as conservative as father’s. I won’t take any responsibility if your stay there turns you into a debauchee.”
Lannahi answered again with a nod. When the servants brought pitchers of nectar into the dining room, she turned to the young human dressed in gray livery standing at a proper distance from the table. “Fill our goblets.”
The man bowed and hastened to complete the task. Following proper etiquette, he started with Maal and Letiri and finished with Lannahi. When he put down the crystal pitcher and made a motion as if to pull out the chair for her, Lannahi shook her head slightly and gestured at her goblet. Despite her siblings’ encouraging words, the tingling in her fingers didn’t stop, which meant they still hadn’t taken the enchantment off the chair. Making her stand while they sat was an insult, but Lannahi wasn’t in a position to rise to it. A stronger enchantress would simply have taken control of the chair, and if she wasn’t afraid of starting a chain of vengeance, she would have answered with a similar insult. Lannahi could only accept their superiority and pretend she wasn’t upset—a taste of what her life would be like under their rule.
The servant handed Lannahi the goblet filled with golden drink.
“Tell us about your plans,” Letiri said when the human returned to his previous place. “Do you want to travel, or would you rather stay in the kingdom?”
Instead of waiting for her siblings to reach for their goblets, Lannahi took a sip. It was a rude gesture, but they weren’t her sovereigns yet. By showing subservience now she might gain their protection but not their respect.
She swallowed, the enticing mixture of sweet and bitter with a hint of sour still on her tongue. “I would rather stay here.”
That wasn’t a lie. Lannahi wouldn’t mind staying at her father’s court and dedicating the rest of her life to music. Only, she knew she could not remain. Sarkal was aging. Even his reputation would wane with time and if he didn’t abdicate his throne to one of his children, he risked being Challenged. Even if the initial Challenger lost, more would come, and eventually, her father’s kingdom would plunge into constant battles for the throne. There was only one way for Lannahi to survive this—by surrendering to fae like her siblings.
Or, like Nihhal.
Lannahi suppressed a shudder.
“You don’t feel adventurous?” Letiri teased. “Such a shame. Rumors of your talent and beauty have long been spreading amongst the courts. Many princes will be disappointed.”
“They can come here,” Maal chimed in, looking at his goblet he moved so that its contents swirled. “Not all men are adventurous. Many will appreciate gentleness, loyalty…” He suddenly lifted his gaze to Lannahi’s goblet and then to her face. “…and good manners.”
And that was… what? A suggestion that by becoming a mistress of an influential member of court she could become a valuable source of information or a snide reminder that if she didn’t side with her siblings, her only solution would be to find another strong fae who could take care of her?
Lannahi realized that her fingers had tightened on the back of the chair and forced them to relax. She smiled sweetly and then uttered one of the vilest insults known to their kind.
“Boring.”
Chapter 2
Silence fell in the chamber. The servants who were tapping the lightcrystals, waking the light in them, froze as did those who had just entered the dining room, carrying the trays. Maal and Letiri stared at Lannahi in disbelief.
The word “boring” was as rude as “lie.” To tell someone that they were lying was the same as to call them a coward. To tell them they were boring… well, nobody wanted to be boring.
Maal’s eyes were cold, but his lips curved into a polite smile. “What exactly do you find boring?”
“Life without music,” Lannahi replied as if she didn’t know she was playing with fire. “It is the greatest adventure for me. I like totalk, but without music, I woulddieof boredom.”
I can spy for you, but only as an artist. You can threaten to kill me, but you won’t get more.
When Maal’s surprise subsided and he realized that Lannahi’s statement wasn’t an attempt to change the subject, but a bold response in line with the context of the rest of their conversation, his gaze sharpened on her. He said, “Then let’s hope we grow old listening to your lovely voice.”
If you are useful, I won’t be your enemy. Pray that I live long enough to protect you.
Lannahi lifted her goblet without tearing her gaze from him. “Let’s hope, brother.”
Her behavior was bold, but at the corners of Maal’s mouth lurked a smile. His younger sister didn’t have much power, but at least she wasn’t a coward. He could respect her.
“What are you waiting for?” Letiri asked the servants who were listening to the conversation, unsure of the mood of their masters. When the humans returned to work, she raised her eyes to her younger sister. She seemed amused. “Have a seat, Lannahi. Join us.”
And there it was: another invitation. Lannahi had a chance to abandon her insane plan. She could devote herself to music…
…and be a pawn for fae like Nihhal.
Lannahi smiled at her sister and took a step back, signaling the servant to pull out a chair for her. Before she had time to sit down, however, Sarkal stood in the doorway shoulder to shoulder with Asirri, punctual as usual.
