CHAPTER EIGHT
My bare feet squeaked on the polished marble as I skidded to a halt outside the Queen’s receiving room. Damn. I was really late. “Well, my first meeting with my biological egg donor is off to a roaring start.”
“Don’t panic,” Terran whispered, passing me my shoes and offering a hand to steady me as I slipped them on. “Just remember what I said. Try to conform to their ideals. Or at least appear to. Nobles are a backstabbing, dangerous group.”
The Strati guards standing sentinel on either side of the massive doors pretended not to notice my hiked-up skirt while I slipped into the shoes Stitch had sold . . . well, given me yesterday. When I was buckled and smoothed and had caught my breath, Terran gave me a hand signal I equated to thumbs up and I nodded. Each guard took hold of a long curlicue door handle that resembled an ocean wave and, before I could change my mind, I was gliding across the gleaming, bronze floor toward a couple dozen dapper citizens.
The room wasn’t so different from the main receiving room at Haven castle. The long rectangular space was bordered by an arching colonnade on both sides which drew the attention of visitors up a grand four-step staircase to the throne. The opulence of it all reminded me of the ballroom I recently converted for my Bacchanalia.
I pushed away thoughts of what was behind me and raised my chin. I was late. I needed to be present now in mind as well as body. Maybe ‘better late than never’ translated into this world and I would be forgiven. I met the cold emerald green stare of the Queen and flinched.
Then again, maybe not.
A classic beauty, Hollywood-leading-lady gorgeous, from the elegance of her high cheekbones to her flawless olive skin to her sleek, feminine lines. She stood as I approached, her glossy raven hair falling dagger straight to her hips. Every male in the room stood a little straighter. Descending the stairs, her scarlet silk gown flowed and shimmered in the light of the crystal chandeliers.
“Good of you to join us.” The ‘finally’ was silent, but understood. Gods, her voice was amazing and the instant after she spoke, every trace of hostility vanished.
I bowed and lowered my head. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I meant no disrespect to you or your court.” I scanned the faces of the close to thirty courtiers dressed to the nines, all of them scowling down at me. All, that is, except one smart-assed onlooker with loose brown curls who scooted into the back of the pack.
What is he doing here?
“Don’t mention it.” The Queen cooed. “I was told you fell momentarily ill?”
Without her smile and the hint of gentleness in her voice her words could have seemed harsh. Instead, what she said almost came off as concern.
“Momentarily,” I said, shooting Rowan the sweetest, dirty look I could manage. He stayed stoically straight faced, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. Bastard. “I’m better now and I apologize for keeping everyone waiting.”
The Queen nodded and grasped my wrist, her touch cool and firm. Without a word, she led me past the crowd of royal admirers and through another set of double doors, to a dining room. Crystal glittered, reflecting the day’s light beaming through stained glass windows. The table was set with sparkling silver cutlery, bronze chargers and gold vases overflowing with enough flowers to choke a horse.
Flowing straight toward a massive gilded chair at the head of the table she released her grip. Nettles pinged and tingled into my hand as the blood began to circulate again.
“An introduction before your homecoming luncheon begins.” The Queen scanned the crowd and caught the gaze of one of the men in the shadows and half-hidden behind other members of the court.
At first glance, he seemed a few years older than me with short dark hair and a stride which reminded me of what Jade and I called the Highborne prowl. Yep. When a man looked at you a certain way and strode with loose limbs of a jungle cat and confidence in his hips, there was nothing you could do but curl up and be his prey. And this guy had that. In spades.
“Alexannia Grace, birthed of the late breeder, Balor,” she paused mid-sentence, looking down to smooth the waist of her gown where it clung to her perfect figure. “May I present Lir-Zale, son of the seventh house, and your betrothed.”
At that moment, the world became a blur of WTF. “I’m sorry, my wha—”
The dark-haired Mc-dreamy kissed both my cheeks and whispered something about how lovely I was.
I pulled back, a whole lotta oh-no-you-don’t on the tip of my tongue.
Servants appeared in every direction with champagne flutes of sparkling blue liquid. The crowd gathered and before I could put the brakes on the celebration, Zale and I were swept into toasts and congratulations then seated across from each other at the right and left hand of the Queen.
“And so, as is customary,” the old priest-guy next to me said as the luncheon droned on, “the hand of the Eligible goes to a son of one of the Noble Houses. It was set in the stars the night you were born and now that you’ve returned to Attalos, you will be wed.”
I gave up picking at my lunch and took another long swallow of blue drink.
It was hard to argue with a priest. Probably, the reason he’d been chosen to sit next to me to explain this. Good strategy. I’d dreamed about having a mother my whole life but there was no way in hells I was marrying some guy just because my birthday was five days away and she wanted me to. I needed to speak to her alone . . . to explain that this arrangement was crazy. Marriage didn’t happen like this where I came from . . . but this was where I came from.
I upended my blue cocktail and set the empty glass back onto the silk tablecloth.
The priest patted my hand. He seemed harmless despite his nose being broken too many times to ever be straight and his fingers, which curled as if they too had been broken but hadn’t healed properly.
“Wow,” I said for what must’ve been the eleventy-millionth time. “But—”
“There are no buts in tradition, Princess,” he said, topping my glass with a sympathetic smile. “The laws of Attalos are absolute. All Eligibles must wed by their sixth celebration and yours is within the week. Thank the goddess Lir-Zale has been gracious enough to forgo the term of courting for the sake of time.”
“For Her Highness, it is my pleasure,” Zale said, bowing his head from across the table.
My mother patted the back of his hand where it lay on the golden silk. He was deliciously charming, but the thought of marrying the guy parked a Volkswagen squarely on my chest.
“Now,” he said, flashing me a conspiratorial wink, “if I might steal away my soon-to-be-bride, we have much to learn about each other.”
“Of course.” The Queen raised her hand and gestured that we were dismissed.
Zale strode down the length of the table and back up again on her side. I wondered why he didn’t just pass behind the Queen’s chair but then thought maybe that was a no-no. When he arrived at my side, he held out his hand. “Shall we, Princess?”
Somehow, I got my feet under me and stood. The dozen or more men at the table stood and bowed their heads. What was I supposed to do? Who the hell knew? I placed my napkin on my chair and curtsied. “Your majesty, gentlemen, ladies.”
When the clink and murmur of the royal luncheon faded behind us, I chanced a glance at my companion. He stood out in a well-groomed, polished sort of way. For some reason, I thought about Rowan. He was a looker too, but not as pretty. Rowan had a more chiseled ‘been-there-lived-through-it’ energy that showed in the clench of his jaw and the depths of his gaze.
“So that’s what all the Eligible stuff has been about? I’m eligible to get married?” The two of us walked along the side grounds of the palace. Terran followed just behind us, walking with a boy who accompanied Zale. The kid was a skinny little rake of a thing with a mop of ginger hair. “That seems a little anti-climactic. I was thinking it was going to be some sort of Hunger Games competition where we had to prove ourselves worthy. Maybe fight to the death to be named the top daughter. A real ‘there can be only one’ moment.”
Zale’s eyes widened, but quickly regained his air of perfection. “It is a betrothal. The Queen claims no daughter. Eligibles are merely offspring, nothing more.”
I managed not to curse out loud, though my gut clenched. I’d waited years to find my parents and now my mother was no more than a genetic donor who had my father executed and was pimping me off to one of her noble followers.
I’m not sure what my expression showed—anger and confusion at being denied after finally finding my mother, defiance of the whole death-do-you-part scenario being forced on me—but Zale smiled as if he understood. His dimples showed and reminded me of Tham.
Damn, how I ached to talk to Tham.
We continued to walk in the awkward silence of strangers until finally he took my hand and squeezed. “I realize this must be a shock for you. A mentor would have prepared you on what it means to be the wife of a noble. The realm is in the midst of chaos. We must ensure the continuation of the strength of our race.”
“Continuation? Like kids?”
“Savages from the outer rings have been targeting the inner city. It is incumbent on the nine houses to ensure the well-being of all Attalos’ citizens. It’s about more than children. We promote the image of well-being to the common. We host fine parties, sponsor sporting tournaments, make ourselves visible in the city center. We safeguard the image of normalcy.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, domesticity is no strength of mine.”
“No matter. There will be plenty of time after our union to settle into your role. Besides, you will have staff and your sister wives to help you acclimate.”
Staff? Well, okay, that sounds— “What? What the hell is a sister wife?”
Zale lifted my hand to his lips. Awkward. He had soft, well-manicured hands. Exactly the kind of hands you’d expect from a nobleman. “You are an intelligent woman, Grace, attractive too—despite the cut of your hair and your girlish form. I’m certain you will rise to be head-wife before long. You already intrigue me beyond the others.”
I tried to slide my hand out of his, but he squeezed tighter. My first instinct was to drop him right there on the manicured lawn, but I thought better of it. The past twenty-four hours had been a shitstorm of emotions. I didn’t understand the rules of this game yet, but I wasn’t ready to quit and go home.
My chest tightened as I remembered Bruin saying those exact words to me back in August. He and Mika had just been branded as mates and she was resisting him. I couldn’t stand the hurt in his big turquoise eyes and was damned if I’d give her a polite pass on it like everyone else.
Bruin told me Mika was new to the game and I couldn’t kick her out before she had a chance to learn the rules.
I didn’t get it then. Yeah, well, I guess the Fates were having a good laugh now. Yuck it up, bitches.
Zale leaned closer. “This is the way we have rebuilt the houses of the nobles for almost three decades. The laws of Attalos are absolute. Besides, it could be worse. Couldn’t it? I’m not a tyrant or an ogre. I have all my teeth and the men in my family keep their hair.”
Yes. It certainly could be worse. I forced what I hoped was a convincing smile and relaxed my hand in his. “And just how many wives do you have?”
He nodded to the guards opening the gate for us and we exited the palace grounds. The afternoon sun warmed the chill that had set over me as we strolled toward the city center.
“Currently two,” he said as if the women were luxury cars parked in his garage. “Temperance was my first. She and I were wed eight years ago when I was twenty-one. Then Chastity joined us on the last cycle. You’ll like her. She has a bit of the same defiant quality I see in you. Likes to hide my keys to get a rise out of me.”
My minded buzzed as Zale painted the bizarre picture of his marital ménage. “So, now I’ll be added in as the third wheel?” Hells no. Not how I pictured my happily-ever-after. And no offence to Chastity and her kinder-klepto routine, but he’d never seen defiant like I was about to show him.
“Yes. You’ll be the third and your twin sister Love will be the fourth. Your unexpected return to the fold caused quite a stir in the allocation of brides. Idikos, son of the second house is not even four cycles and wasn’t intended to be a husband until one more cycle had passed. They weren’t sure where to place you, but I assured them that I would welcome both you and your sister as one.”
I’m a twofer. Fucking Fates.
My mind-buzz caused the tides in my gut to churn. By the time we arrived at the next gate, I was seriously considering ducking into the metal shrubs to vomit. Stepping over the bridge, we walked along the orichalcum wall as Terran and I had early this morning. I raised my free hand and skimmed the surface. Like before, energy surged into my arm, tingled through my bloodstream and unexpectedly calmed the eels flipping in my stomach.
Zale scanned the bronze spires and glass walls of the cityscape as if deciding where to head next. “Since you had no mentor, you must be overwhelmed with questions. How about we spend the afternoon together and you can learn a bit about where you come from.”
As much as I wanted to punch Zale in his precious pie-hole and scream, instead, I nodded, craving information about my heritage more. “I’m not sure one afternoon will cover it.”
“I’m all yours. First question.”
“Can I step down as an Eligible? Refuse this?”
Zale actually had the gall to look hurt. “Refuse? We’re trying to rebuild our noble houses. Being an Eligible is a position of the highest honor in Attalos.”
“Yeah . . . so, can I? Refuse?”
Zale’s lips pursed tight. “You cannot. If you aren’t wed by your sixth anniversary in five days’ time, you will be executed as a betrayer of the Queen’s will.”
My hand skimmed down the purple silk of my gown and found the bump of my knife hilt sheathed just beneath the fabric. “Then maybe I should consider this whole thing a wash and go home. I’m sure my father is frantic and is tearing apart the realm searching for me. Maybe I should just go.”
Zale searched my expression with a focus I didn’t understand. “I hadn’t envisioned you would give up without learning the answers to questions which have surely plagued your entire life.”
As we walked on in silence, I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Terran and Zale’s servant boy were still cool. When our gazes met, Terran’s gaze lacked any sign of his natural spark. His expression remained guarded and cool.
“Attalos is a floating realm,” Zale said bringing my attention back to him. “It travels unseen by members of both realms. We are a private race of Fae who chose to distance ourselves from others in the dark times of persecution.”
“And I’m Water Fae? That’s what Freya said.”
“Yes. All Eligibles have been engineered to be Water for almost seven cycles—since a civil uprising cost many lives. Water are known for their intelligence and leadership. Unlike the savages attacking and stealing from the outer rings.”
“The citizens of other elements? They were behind the unrest?” He nodded and we turned to follow a wide canal toward the metropolis of the city. I checked over my shoulder. Terran nodded, looking calmer.
“When I was a young boy, Fire Fae tried to overthrow the Queen. They demanded Her Majesty stand down.”
“Had they ever been violent before?”
He shook his head. “There was a terrible battle, but when they failed to overthrow the Queen they went after the nine houses of nobles. It was a terrifying time. My father locked Mother and I away in a hidden cabinet behind the library bookshelf. It was dark and we were stranded for days, hungry and frightened.”
“And what happened?”
“The very structure of our race is governed by the nine houses. With many of them killed, there was a restructuring of the affinities. Fire Fae were sent to the outermost ring, Wind and Earth the next two in that order and Water kept control of the city.”
“And your father?”
“Killed and praised as a hero of a terrible time.”
“And all this happened when?”
“A few years before you would have been born.”
“So, the Queen began rebuilding the noble houses by prostituting her offspring to the sons of the nine houses of Water Fae?”
Zale cast a frantic glance around us. “How could you say such a thing? Our Queen is a righteous and proud woman. Everything she does, she does for the benefit of our people.”
Uh-huh. “And if they stand against her they get their heads chopped off. Very democratic.”
Zale squeezed my fingers until I felt the bones grind together. “I don’t know how it is where you come from, Princess, but here in Attalos women know respect and obedience. You’ll learn soon enough to bite that forked tongue of yours or it will be removed.”
I back-handed Zale across the face and freed my hand with little trouble. Terran was at my side in an instant and I slid my hands down my fancy dress. “We’re through here, Terran. Lir-Zale, you can scratch my name off the invitations. I’ll pass on the nuptial servitude. Thanks anyway.”