Whereas Thaddeus finds magic a convenience.
Rori cleared her throat and stepped to the side to get a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She was stunned by the vibrancy in the silky black fabric and lace bodice. She must’ve missed it before, the subtle glints of gold within the threads. The sleeves were but a mere inch-thick piece of gold-dusted lace that hung over her biceps, and the sweetheart bodice enhanced the gentle swells of her breasts. Her waist appeared smaller than she remembered, and she wondered if the dress had some magical curve-enhancement spell mixed into the luxurious fabric. Her skin held a creamy hue, her cheeks pink, her eyes gleamed with emerald light. Her hair, which she tried to tame in a loose braid, glowed with surreal life against the black. Seeing this version of herself, clothed in luxuries she’d never imagined, made her both nervous and confident. What would Thaddeus say if he saw her like this?
The question left her belly in a flutter and a familiar heat teasing her skin, pooling between her legs. She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly parched at the very thought of her Faery man. Three days too long without seeing him, being near him, was driving her crazy.
I would have never thought a man could make me feel this way. Make me yearn for him when he’s not around and leave me pained in his absence.
“Do you know when Thaddeus will be well enough for me to visit?”
Rori twisted, taking in her reflection at a different angle, avoiding Moira’s gaze as she awaited an answer. Too manydays had passed for her to continue without at least laying eyes on him. To see he was healing or well or still alive.
“I’d have to ask Shaye. Thaddeus is under room arrest, so to speak, until Shaye can be sure he won’t be a threat to anyone under this roof. The last time Thaddeus tread this land was at Daeanna’s side with intent to harm Shaye and the Talaenian people. But things change, especially when we least expect it.”
Rori turned away from the mirror, from her revealing thoughts to the somber reality she had yet to face. Thaddeus’s past was riddled in darkness, and an impending revelation taunted her like a viper preparing to strike, leaving its prey crippled, if not dead.
“He believes he is fated to die. Why? What has he done that deserves such a sentence?”
For a long moment, she felt as if she were being inspected by Moira, her stormy eyes tracing over her face, her lips pulled in the semblance of a small frown. Sympathy—all the damn sympathy—swam in her gaze, and it did little to comfort the churn within her gut.
Moira’s smile widened. “You carry yourself naturally in a Fae dress. Definitely better than me.”
“Somehow, I doubt that. Besides, I’m not used to such fancy things. I’m more of a simple girl.”
“Simple is not in the Fae’s vocabulary. It’s best to accept that now and hope you can change the mindset. Have you been to the grotto?” When Rori shook her head, Moira beamed, hooking her arm through Rori’s. The woman’s open acceptance caught her off guard. “It’s one of my favorite places to visit when I need to relax and regroup. Let me take you. Maybe you’ll find some solace at the foot of the falls.”
Moira led Rori through the castle at a leisurely pace. In the distance, Rori heard the happy banter and wild shrieks ofchildren breezing through the open corridors. The familiar sweetness that seemed to permeate the air day and night contained an undercurrent of something soothing. Whatever it was had a strange anesthetic effect on her body, bringing her off a precipice of anxiety to a place where she found herself taking in her surroundings for the first time. Details, all the small details, of this fantastic place. The never-ending marble—white marble, black marble, beige marble—with all the different colored veins. The riches in the gold accents and embellishments, like the fancy torches and wall sconces. The music from unseen creatures, soft chirps and longer songs, crackles and peeps. Breezy swaths of fabric that rippled in the gentle flow of air through the corridors. Everything was beyond her wildest imagination.
Moira’s story about how she met Shaye—the man who’d appeared on the stairs—and the curse he’d endured for two hundred years. A curse placed on him by the same princess Thaddeus had had a relationship with, though she didn’t divulge specifics. As curious as she was about Thaddeus’s past, she was quietly thankful Moira didn’t provide details about the relationship beyond what Rori already knew.
Thaddeus had loved the princess and had been willing to do anything for her, at any cost to himself.
Emerging from a circular stairwell onto a ground-level corridor, Rori shuffled to a stop. Moira paused to look back, a smile growing across her mouth.
“The grotto.”
Moira took her by the hand and pulled her up to the marble balustrade beneath one of the grand open arches. Beyond the corridor, the most magical sight she’d ever laid eyes on. The sheering side of an enormous mountain glittering with the endless fall of water. Her last view of the waterfall was from a balcony much higher up, where thedetails of what lay below were buried beneath shadows, tree canopies, and rock.
From this point, from the bottom, the true beauty shone with several smaller falls that had split from the main fall trickling over crags and boulders. Stone crevices, pathways, walls with patches of rich green moss and dotted with tiny blossoms of any and every color her mind could fathom. The looming trees provided a sensual shade against the golden sunlight that had dimmed behind the first casting of clouds. Soft flickers of lights floated through the air, reminding her of lightning bugs, enhancing the fantastical nature.
Rori stepped up to the balustrade, slack-jawed and whirling in a dream. She tracked a babbling stream along a path from one rippling surface pool to where it disappeared beneath the corridor floor. Patches of flowers bloomed up from tightly packed rocks or plots of emerald grass. Butterflies flitted about the blossoms, their wings like stained glass—purples, blues, oranges, yellows, and so many hues in between—brilliant and ethereal.
She was living a fantasy.
“It’s quite enchanting, isn’t it?”
Moira’s soft inquiry pulled her back from her awe, if only a fraction. She nodded slowly, her enthrallment refusing to release her completely. She reached forward, her fingertips brushing the tops of the velvety red petals of something that resembled a lily. She tipped her head to admire the vines along the arches and their ribbons of branches that entwined down the columns. Deep blue and purple flowers dangled between heart-shaped leaves of silvery green, glinting when light hit them a certain way.
Her entire body lightened and warmed at the same time. She could lose herself here. Spend hours, days, weeksadmiring the view, discovering all the nooks and crannies of this mystical gem.
“The battle that occurred not long ago destroyed all of this. Daeanna left our home in pieces, a pile of rubble at the base of this mountain. The spirits restored it to its glory, and more. The layout of the grotto changed a little, and it’s even more breathtaking now.” Moira braced her hands on the balustrade, and leaned forward, her eyes glittering. “Everything about the Talaenian world is simply breathtaking. Untouched by the ruins of our world. It thrives off nature.”
“Thrive, it does,” Rori whispered, her cheeks warming almost unbearably. Tingles curled down her spine and teased between her thighs, a phantom caress that hitched her breath and threatened to knock her knees out from under her. She leaned against one of the marble columns, pressing her cheek to the cool stone, her fingers playing across the intricate carvings that her eyes couldn’t see but her fingertips could feel. “This is a place of dreams and wishes. Far from the nightmare I’ve endured for so long.”
“It seems nightmares of different kinds follow us mortal-born who find ourselves embraced by the magic of the Fae. I feel that the universe knows this is the sanctuary we seek, weneed, to find ourselves and regain our hope.”
The golden light in her chest burned, flaring to life. It restricted her lungs, making each breath harder to grasp. Her heart fluttered, sending her head in a tizzy. She closed her eyes. Concentrated on the air reaching her lungs. The flailing end of her golden tether. The desire that struck her mercilessly.
She pressed her lips together.
