“Thank you for making me feel so beautiful tonight,” I said, running my fingers through perfectly curled flaxen waves.
“We aren’t done yet. Wait until you see the dresses that were delivered for you,” Lusha squealed in excitement. Her exuberance was contagious. I decided I was done sulking for now. I’d resume tomorrow. She opened my wardrobe and pulled out several dresses, laying them out on my bed one by one. It was like feasting my eyes upon a treasure chest full of dazzling jewels—each gown more unique and vibrant than the last.
My gaze fell upon a slinky olive-green dress. It was different than anything I’d ever worn. Lusha helped me into it and I admired the details. The off-the-shoulder sleeves were made of a sheer fabric that draped delicately around my arms. Instead of a corset, the fabric molded to my body, feeling silky and cool against my skin. The sweetheart neckline plunged just enough to tease at cleavage. The moss colored skirt fell in soft layers, with deep slits that showed off my thighs as I walked. It was more revealing than even my undergarments back home. I gave Lusha a beaming smile.
Galen must’ve ordered these yesterday when my measurements were taken. How much had he paid to have these tailored and delivered in one day? My throat tightened. I’d never received a gift from a man. I’m sure itwas nothing for a Prince with unlimited resources, but the gesture had still been kind.
I stood in front of a full-length mirror and gasped. Had Lusha manipulated more than my hair? I felt like one of the six gods. The gown hugged my body like a second skin. A new dress and a little makeup had transformed a girl into a woman. I felt attractive in a way that I wasn’t used to. I feltseductive. Luscious locks of gold fell past my shoulders, making me look like my mother. I held back tears, feeling an immense sense of comfort in the idea that she was with me tonight.
“Don’t cry, you’ll ruin your makeup,” Lusha hushed, drying my eyes with a handkerchief. Her kindness gave me the glimmer of hope that I’d needed. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that theyneededme, therefore it wouldn’t be beneficial toeatme.
eleven
Iarrived at the Great Hall before the Queen. She struck me as someone who rushed for no one. Taking in my surroundings, I decided whoever had designed this castle had impeccabletaste. The room stretched on and on, continuing past the sizable Dining Room into a sprawling, domed Ball Room. The last rays of a rose-gold sunset gleamed against waxed marble floors.
Flowering vines crept along intricate, swirling copper frames that supported the high, arched ceilings. Curving panels of stained-glass windows made up most of the dome, depicting the changing moon cycle.
Vines met at a center point, dangling down around a glass chandelier. The elaborate fixture consisted of thousands of small glass spheres that cascaded like drops of rain. I inhaled sharply as I studied it.Simply beautiful. It certainly didn’t screammagic shortage. How much human blood had it taken to build such a fantastical display?
My attention swung back to the table of faeries when I heard someone cough. The head of the table was empty, but all three sons dutifully sat around it. Three unfamiliar faces also stared back at me; an older couple with silver in their hair and a beautiful female who watched me through velvet lashes. I thought she looked about my age, but then remembered faeries were nearly immortal.
She had straight white-blonde hair that ran well past the curves of her petite breasts. Stunning almond shaped-eyes curved towards dainty, pointed ears. She was elegant—the epitome of ethereal beauty—and sitting right next to Galen, her focus turned to him. Side by side, they looked like a well-matched pair. A perfect balance of masculine and feminine;both blessed with high cheekbones, strong jawlines, and refined, straight noses. Too beautiful to be human.
I stumbled when I saw a glow radiating from each of them. His was a deep golden red. Hers, a soft yellow and pink. At first I thought I’d been seeing things, but no; shimmering energy floated around faeries in various colors and shapes. I couldn’t see the subtle glow straight-on, but I kept catching glimpses from my periphery. Each aura—or whatever it was—was unique, like a magical finger-print.
In Erador, auras were something oracles in traveling circuses claimed to see. I’d never been allowed to go to any of the shows that came through Aurelius, but I’d heard stories. I’d always just thought seers had a talent for telling people what they wanted to hear—a clever gift for reading body language. But now I was questioning everything I thought I knew.
There was an open seat between Rafael and the older gentleman, but I hesitated, unsure of proper protocol. Was I supposed to pull up a chair or wait to be seated?
Everyone turned to me at once and I resisted the urge to bolt. I froze in place as an inkyblackaura spilled from Rafael. My round eyes met his as tendrils of smoke stretched towards me, like two grasping hands… before blinking out of sight. His mighty power had seemed ready to swallow me whole for one terrifying moment. His jaw ticked as he turned away. Nobody else seemed to notice, their attention still on me.
Louis jumped up and helped me to my seat. “You look stunning, Marigold,” he said with a warm smile. The glow that swirled around him was bright and playful—the same shade as his turquoise eyes.
I blushed at the compliment, smiling awkwardly before I sat down. “Thank you. I believe this dress suits me better than the one I arrived in.” I flashed a look at Galen in silent thanks. His stare nearly scorched my soul with its voracity.
The silver-haired male looked me up and down. He had a scar that ran from his temple down to his jaw. What could leave afaeriewith such a scar? I tried not to stare.
“Hello, Marigold, is it? Are you being courted by Rafael, then?” he asked, acknowledging our seating arrangement.
Rafael responded before I could. “Absolutely not.” His sultry voice dripped like warm honey, but I couldfeelhis revulsion—see it in his stiffposture. Apparently, the idea of courting me thoroughly disgusted him. Was there anyone he deemed worthy of his attention?
“I supposecourtingisn’t your style.” The man gave him a knowing grin. I internally rolled my eyes. Men werepigs.
Studying Rafael, I noted a bruise blooming across his left cheekbone. He’d no doubt done something to deserve it. I was no seer, but I could see right through him.
He was a Prince, born too late to be King. Over time, he’d probably developed an ego complex from always being under Galen’s shadow, turning to brothels and bar brawls to seek temporary relief from his shallow existence.
Many bored noblemen became rakes; they weren’t unique, but of course thought they were. If he followed the typical pattern, he’d be a perpetual bachelor until he was ready to sire heirs. Only then would he choose a wife—one that would look the other way when he strayed. He was the kind of man that Ophelia warned me about—the kind my governess enjoyed.
“I haven’t seen you before,” the older man said. “We’re longtime friends of the family. I’m Arnold. This is my wife, Dahlia… and my daughter, Isla.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said softly.
“Ah! I better warn you now.” He winked. “I’m essentially deaf in the right ear and the other one isn’t much better—not even healers have been able to help. To be fair, I’m over five-hundred years old, so it was about timesomethingbroke down. If you want me to hear you, you’ll have to speak up. I admit, I make a terrible dinner guest.”
I groaned. Having to make conversation with Rafael for a whole meal might be the death of me. I eyed him warily, staying silent. How much blood did one have to consume to gain an aura so black?
Dahlia spoke next. “What’s your relation to the family, Marigold?” She studied me with a pinched face. None of the Princes jumped in, leaving me to give a vague answer. “I am a… distant cousin—just visiting for a quick holiday.”
