The room had been completely transformed.
Gone were the couches and plush chairs; instead, the room was filled with table after table of food and drink. The walls were covered in sparkling silvery tapestries, and a circular rug in the same material decorated the center of the room.
To their right, there was a whole orchestra, the music softly weaving its way through the room. Couples already braved the dance floor, their bodies swaying gentlyin rhythm with the melody.
She gripped Merrick’s arm tighter when he made to step away.
“Let’s get some food. Even the mighty Fae must eat sometimes,” she whispered.
A sigh escaped him, but he led the way toward the overflowing tables.
Warmth trailed over her face when they navigated through the crowd, and she searched the faces, expecting a hostile glare from one of the council members.
But her eyes met Loche’s with a jolt, and she raised her brows at the thunderous look on his face. When Merrick pulled at her so she wouldn’t bump into a dancing couple, she tore her eyes away, still sensing his glacial eyes tracking her movements.
As they reached the tables, she suddenly wasn’t so hungry, trying to understand why Loche, yet again, looked like he wanted to kill her.
She let go of Merrick, picked up a beautifully decorated cake, moved to lean against the wall, and took small bites, barely tasting anything of the sugary decadence.
Merrick took up the spot beside her, and she rolled her eyes at how awkward his “casual” stance looked. Even resting against the wall, every muscle in his body shifted under his clothing, his head subtly tilting to pick up conversations in every corner of the room.
She let her eyes drift toward Loche again.
He’d moved his gaze to Zaddock, with whom he was holding a passionate, whispered conversation. A frown slipped across her face when Zaddock threw his arms out and Loche took a step toward him, hardness lining his jaw.
When Zaddock placed a hand on his shoulder, Loche threw it off. The former shook his head and stormed out of the room, his black cloak trailing behind him.
Leaning against the wall opposite her, Loche lifted his face, and Lessia snapped her eyes to the dance floor, where more couples now filed in.
The music shifted to a slower song, and she watched Craven offer his hand to a woman who seemed to be his wife, her long hair sparkling with silver. Venko also pulled a beautiful blonde with him, spinning her expertly around the circular dance floor.
People at all the tables around her began pairing up, men bowing to the women, who giggled and let them lead them to the already dancing couples.
She glanced at Merrick, who hissed, “Don’t even think about it. I don’t dance.”
Sighing, she watched couple after couple join, the laughter from the women as the men spun them humming softly over the beautiful music.
A wave of wistfulness washed over her.
She’d always loved dancing and music.
There hadn’t been a day growing up when her mother hadn’t been singing in the kitchen until her father pulled her into his arms and swung her around. And they’d always let her and Frelina join; Frelina, who sang as beautifully as their mother, who’d tried to teach Lessia to sing until they figured out it was hopeless.
She could dance, though. Her father had let her stand on his feet before she could even walk, and after that, he’d practiced with her whenever she wanted.
Lessia tilted her face to the floor and ground her teeth as the lump from earlier returned in full force. She should be grateful she’d had such a beautiful childhood, but there was only pain whenever these memories surfaced.
She’d ruined everything.
“May I have this dance?”
Her eyes flew up, and her mouth fell open when Loche bowed before her.
Chapter
Thirty-Nine
Loche’s mouth twitched when she only stared at him.
