by K. A. Linde
“Darby?” Hadrian asked.
“What? Don’t trust her with me? I promise… I have very careful hands,” she said with another pointed wink.
Hadrian huffed and then stormed off in a fury. Upsetting him was half of the joy in her existence.
“You shouldn’t tease him so,” Darby said softly. “All you do is get him riled up.”
Clover kept her eyes focused on Hadrian’s retreat. She shouldn’t feel pulled toward that prudish, arrogant boy, but somehow… she was. “That’s the fun of it.”
Darby sighed and then gestured to Clover’s bag. “You should have another.”
“Another what?”
“Smoke.”
Clover raised her eyebrows. “You’re condoning my smoking? Just a second ago, you said it wasn’t a good idea.”
“It’s not, but your hands are shaking.”
She hastily clasped them behind her.
Darby smiled again shyly. “You feel better when you have one.”
She did, but she hadn’t thought anyone noticed. Kerrigan knew about her condition. She simply hadn’t told the others. It wasn’t their business. Had Darby figured it out all on her own?
“All right,” Clover said, pulling out another smoke and bringing it to her lips.
“Let me.” Darby stepped forward and managed a flicker of fire magic to light the smoke.
Darby had never shown much affinity for magic, not like Kerrigan. It must have taken a great deal of concentration to light the cigarette.
Clover took a good, long pull on the smoke, breathing in the healing loch. It might be illegal, but it was the only thing that kept the pain back.
They stood together in silence as she finished her smoke. Darby purposely looked away from her and watched the crowd to see if anyone would appear. No one did.
“Do you…” Darby began and then bit her lip.
“Do I what?” Clover asked, stamping the smoke out on the ground and feeling like a new person.
“Do you like Hadrian?”
“Sure,” Clover said with a shrug. She did like Hadrian. Maybe more than liked him. It was why she couldn’t stop herself from poking at him.
Darby’s face crumpled slightly. “I see.”
“So, what if I do, Darbs?” Clover prodded.
“I just thought you liked…”
Clover waited, but Darby didn’t finish. “Say it.”
“Girls,” Darby finished on a whisper.
“Ah,” Clover said, a smirk crossing her features. “I do like girls.”
Darby’s look of confusion was adorable. Her little nose in the air, her eyes darting here and there, as if she were trying to make sense of it all.
Clover stepped forward until their bodies nearly touched. Darby hiccuped in alarm and tried to step back, but there was nowhere to go.
“I like both. I like boys, and I like girls. Actually, I just like everyone.”
“Everyone?” Darby asked.
“Some people don’t grow up feeling like a boy or a girl,” Clover said, speaking from experience. “Some people just grow up feeling like a person. I don’t feel binary about the whole thing. I’m open to all sorts of love.”
“Oh… okay.” Darby chewed on her bottom lip.
“I’m open to this,” Clover said.
Before Darby could say anything, Clover tipped her chin up and pressed their lips together. Darby’s lips were so damn soft and sweet. As if she were made of something that much purer. Darby was too damn good for her. That fact had always been known. But standing there at some rich, fancy-ass party, wearing a ridiculous gown, talking about love, she hadn’t been able to hold back. All she’d done for the last year around Darby was hold back. And dammit, this would all go down in flames, but she wanted one taste of the sweet elixir before giving it up forever.
Darby stumbled backward a step. Her hand went to her lips. Those perfect, innocent eyes were wide with alarm.
“What’s wrong, Darbs?” Clover asked as quiet as a mouse. “Don’t you want this?”
“Yes,” she whispered before she could stop herself.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I can’t,” Darby said with a worried shake of her head. “Sonali… she doesn’t know. She’s been talking marriage prospects.”
Clover’s face darkened. “Marriage prospects,” she said hollowly.
“Yes. She’s going to bring in gentlemen after the tournament.”
“Gentlemen,” she said, her voice rough around the edges. “But, Darby… you don’t like boys.”
“I know,” Darby said, her eyes filling with tears. “I cherish this kiss, my first kiss, Clover. I always will. But it can never happen again.”
Then Darby ran away down the stone steps into the garden. Her brilliant gown flowing out behind her as she raced away. Clover had always known she would never get to keep someone like Darby. One kiss should have been enough. Instead, all she felt was heartbreak.
41
The Past
Running wasn’t her smartest move.
She just hadn’t been able to stand there and listen to Audria’s soothing words, the words she had waited her entire life to hear. They weren’t feasible. Nothing Audria had said even made sense. There was no world that Kerrigan could go back to and become Lady Felicity, First of the House of Cruse again. The House of Dragons had shaped her beyond recognition. She wasn’t a princess, not even a lady. She was a fighter, a weapon, a survivor.
Tears blurred her eyes, and she ripped off the mask in the garden. She could hardly see where she was going, only that her past had caught up with her and she wanted to forget any of this had ever happened. That it all had the ability to make her cry at all.
A figure blocked her path. She hardly saw him and nearly careened into him.
“Sorry,” she gasped, stepping around him to try to find an empty space to grieve her old life.
But the man caught her elbow. “Kerrigan?”
She stilled, her eyes drifting up to meet blue. The last person she wanted to meet tonight. “Kivrin.”
He looked around the gardens. No one had yet noticed them. “What are you doing here? How did you even get into my party?” He fingered a lock of her tresses. “What have you done to your hair?”
Kerrigan tugged her arm out of his grasp. “Don’t touch me.”
“This is unacceptable,” Kivrin said with fury in his tone. “You were not invited to this event. You should not be attending parties.”
“And why not? Are you ashamed of me?” she hissed. “Oh wait, you gave me up. Of course you are. Here’s a hint: leave me alone.”
“I would leave you alone if you didn’t stumble into my events. I want you to leave.”
Kerrigan couldn’t leave, not yet. She fought for a lie. “I have one week to find a patron or else I will work for the Society for life. I’ll give up everything I’ve worked for.”
His eyes softened marginally. “And you thought you’d find one here?”
She inclined her head slightly. “Yes.”
“Then you are more foolish than I thought. Why did you not come to me if that was the bargain? I could have helped you find someone.”
She laughed at him. “I don’t need your help. You’ve done quite enough.”
Kivrin grasped her arm again, towering over her. He should have been intimidating in his grandeur, but he seemed smaller than ever.
“Listen and listen closely,” he growled.
But Kerrigan never had to hear what he said because a hand came down and clamped on Kivrin’s shoulder.
“I would release her, good sir.”
Fordham Ollivier stood there, standing eye to eye with her father. His mask had been removed, and his stormy-gray eyes raged. He didn’t even look ridiculous in the powder blue. He looked like he belonged.
Kivrin let Kerrigan’s arm go. “So, this is how you got into the party?”
“I was invited,” Fordham said evenly. He gestured to Kerrigan. “Come on. L
et’s go.”
“This is a bad idea,” Kivrin said, glancing between them.
“Not any more than you are,” Kerrigan spat.
She followed Fordham away from her father. Her chest ached, and she felt like she had been wrung out. She didn’t even pay attention to where Fordham was leading until they were in the gazebo at the back of the property, where they had all agreed to meet. Fordham gestured for her to take a seat, which she did, burying her head into her hands.
“What was that all about?” he asked.
“It’s complicated.”
“That guy was a total dick to you.”
Suddenly, she just couldn’t pretend anymore. She was tired of hiding who she was. After Audria’s confession and her dealings with her dad, she couldn’t sit by and act like everything was fine.
“That guy is my father,” she said, looking up to meet his eyes.
Fordham balked at that. “Kivrin Argon is your father?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“But he’s a royal? And you’re…”
“Half-Fae?”
“Dragon Blessed,” he finished. “Obviously, your father would have to be Fae if your mother was human, but I thought that the House of Dragons was a way to advance in society. I gathered that they took kids off the streets and out of poverty to help them have a second chance in society. If your father is a royal…”
“That’s exactly why he abandoned me,” she said bitterly. “Most Fae don’t grow into their severely pointed ears until they’re five or six.” She gestured to the sharp points of his own ears. “I was left at the mountain when I was five right as my shorter ears were beginning to reveal that I wasn’t fully Fae.”
Fordham stared at her, his face unreadable. She didn’t know if he felt the horror that she did when she thought about it. Perhaps this was normal where he was from. Perhaps they would have just killed Kerrigan instead.
Kerrigan didn’t wait for him to say something. She just barreled forward. “There’s a story of the lost princess of Bryonica. Princess Felicity Argon of the House of Cruse was stolen at five years old, and everyone went looking for her, but she was nowhere to be found,” Kerrigan said, looking off into the gardens. “But I wasn’t lost. I was right here, where my father left me. Now, Audria found it all out. She wants her mother to adopt me from the House of Dragons so that everything can go back to the way it was.” She choked on the last words. “But it can never go back. Not after what my father did. Besides Helly, who knows what happened, I’ve avoided everyone from Bryonica. The very last thing I want is to go back to the place that let my father abandon me and be paraded around like some long-lost princess. I would rather work every day in the Society as a forgotten nobody than live that sham of a life.”
Fordham sank into the seat next to her and tilted her chin up to look at him. “You don’t have to go back.”
“I don’t know if I have another choice,” she gasped. “Once a Dragon Blessed has been chosen, that’s that. I don’t think I can say no.”
“Since when have you ever taken anything at face value?”
She hiccuped around a laugh. “Never.”
“We’ll figure it out. We always do.”
“Okay. You’re right.”
Their eyes locked. Where she had seen nothing only moments earlier, deep emotions swirled through his irises. It startled her. So frequently, he just shut down, as if not showing emotions was a defense mechanism. Something trained into him.
“Ford,” she whispered hesitantly.
His hand moved from her chin and back into her hair. “What have you done to me?”
“What have I done?” she asked back.
“You have bewitched me so.”
And she was lost to him.
His lips lowered to hers, and time froze. He tasted like honey and liquor and oranges. His lips were soft and supple and oh-so inviting. His tongue grazed across her bottom lip, and she shivered, opening her mouth to him. He swept in, brushing their tongues together. A soft groan escaped her at that first touch.
Her hands reached for the elaborate jacket, knotting into the material. He reacted by drawing them closer, his hands roamed down her side, to her hip, and then against the middle of her back until their bodies were flush. Still, they weren’t close enough. She slid forward until she was seated into his lap.
She couldn’t breathe, and she didn’t even care. This was bliss. This was precisely where she wanted to be. Her hands slipped under the jacket and found the strong contours of his back. Everything felt urgent and necessary and needy. She had no desire to stop this. Didn’t think that it was possible to stop this. It was a runaway cart, barreling down a hill. Only a force of will or the gods could impede its descent.
She hadn’t had a sip of faerie punch, but her skin felt hot, her breaths came out as gasps, and every brush of his lips against her sent fire coursing through her. She forgot their mission, the real reason for them being here. She just got lost in Fordham Ollivier.
Then, he was standing, and she tumbled off his lap, nearly landing on the ground.
An, “Oof,” escaped her as she tried to right herself. What the gods?
Fordham walked away from her across the gazebo, his hand fisted in his hair. Kerrigan came swiftly back to her feet. Her heart still thudded a quick staccato from their intimate kiss, but now, he was gone… and she had no idea what had just happened.
“Ford?” she whispered, a faint, delicate thing that betrayed her hurt.
“I can’t do this, Kerrigan.”
She swallowed and took a step backward. “Right. Of course not,” she bit out.
“You don’t understand.”
“No, I think I do.” Mounting anger lashed at her. “It’s because I’m half-Fae, isn’t it?”
He turned back to face her. “It’s not that.”
She laughed without mirth. “Real convincing, princeling.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what? You kissed me first. And even if you hadn’t, this was building. You can’t deny it.”
“I know,” he said, his voice barely above a breath. “I wanted to, but I can’t.” He shook his head in distress. “I’m cursed.”
She rolled her eyes. “Convenient thing to have never mentioned.”
“I did mention it to you,” he said. “When we first met, I told you that I was cursed.”
“That was a joke!”
“It wasn’t. I actually am cursed.”
Kerrigan tilted her head in confusion. “What does that even mean? An actual curse?”
“Yes. There is dark magic in the House of Shadows. One of my father’s enemies sent a woman to my crib after I was born and cursed me. She said I was cursed to wander perpetually and to hurt all those I care for.”
“You’re serious.”
He nodded and looked away again. “So, I have never cared for anyone. But I cannot deny how I feel for you, and the last thing I want is to hurt you.”
“To live is to take that chance.”
“It’s not a chance,” he insisted. “It is a necessity. I will hurt you. It’s a promise.”
She shivered at his words. It sounded like a promise. It rang with truth. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not when this felt so right. They were so similar in so many ways. He just didn’t know the whole of it. If he was going to give her his biggest secret, then she would confess hers.
“You are not the only one who is cursed.”
He blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I am also cursed… with visions.”
“Visions?” Fordham asked.
“I can… sort of see the future. It’s not exactly clear, usually just flashes of images that don’t even make sense until it happens. It started five years ago. I saw Cyrene’s world in jeopardy. Then a year ago, it happened again. I saw that Laments church at the Square—you remember it?”
He nodded gravely.
“I saw it burning… before it ever happened.
And then a few weeks ago, I saw a man materializing out of black smoke in the center of the arena.”
He reared back. “You saw me?”
“And I haven’t stopped seeing you, Fordham. The visions keep pushing us together. That’s how I knew what element you should use that day. It’s how I knew you were going to fall in the second task.”
“And the raven medallion?” he guessed.
She nodded. “I don’t know what it means, honestly, but if it’s in my vision, it’s important.” She wrung her hands. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone about it. Only Helly and Gelryn know the truth of it…” She bit her lip. “And Dozan.”
“Dozan? Why would you tell him?”
“He was there… that first night when it happened. I was assaulted in the streets, and in the middle of it, I had my first vision. Dozan nursed me back to health, and when I woke up, I thought he’d taken care of the people who had hurt me, but when I had that energy explosion with you, I realized that I was the one who had killed all those people.”
Fordham sank back down onto the stone seat. “That’s a lot to take in.”
“I know. The last person who knew was Lyam… and then he turned up dead,” she whispered. “And Basem was there the night I had my vision of you. I’m not sure if it’s all connected… if he knows.”
“Gods, that’s another motive that you didn’t mention.”
She chewed on her bottom lip. “I know, but I’ve never told anyone else about my visions, and the one person who found out was just murdered. I don’t want that to happen to you too.”
Fordham stood and put his hands on her shoulders, gentle this time. “That’s not going to happen to me. I’m glad you told me.”
“It’s good to have it off my chest actually.”
“Likewise,” he admitted. “Everyone back home knows about my curse. It’s common knowledge, but here, I finally feel…”
“Free?”
“Precisely.”
“Me too.”
He brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know what to do about this.”
“I don’t either.”
She stared up into his eyes, knowing that was a lie. All she wanted was to kiss him again, to feel his perfect lips on hers. Yet she could see that he was being honest. That he believed he would hurt her if they continued forward. She didn’t know what to do about that. Her heart ached, just thinking about it.