Reese tapped the page. No wonder the Fae were such vicious bastards. Some fallen angel had deflowered their Garden of Eden.
There were castles and swords, and Keen often spoke of battle in Tirnan. Whatever peace had once existed had died a long time ago. Tirnan wasn’t what it was designed to be, and Reese suspected whoever created this place wouldn’t approve of the Fae’s treatment of humans or Halven. Fae were obsessed with their angelic bloodlines and precious traditions, and they used it as an excuse for all kinds of foul treatment.
She tossed the book aside and stood. The gilded cage they kept her in was getting old. She couldn’t remain here forever. It had been almost two weeks since she’d left her and Elena’s apartment in their college town. Someone besides Elena had to have noticed she was gone. Granted, her parents were often wrapped up in their own lives, but what about a professor? The next time Reese saw Keen, she’d grill him on what was happening back home.
The sound of the door bursting open startled her. She spun around. And a stream of blinding colors swept into her room. Not just any colors—fabrics—yards and yards of fabrics.
“My lady, your dresses are ready,” Enid said happily. Enid was the young seamstress who’d brought her the book. “And look how lovely they are.” She petted the red silk. “Do humans truly wear this style?”
Reese walked over and held up the cap-sleeved, off-the-shoulder gown she’d designed, with a sweetheart neckline, cinched waist, and column skirt that brushed the floor. The details were in the cut and fabric, but otherwise it was a very simple dress that accentuated her curves.
More dresses filled the arms of Enid’s helpers, modest compared to the one Reese held. “For formal occasions, they wear dresses like this,” Reese said, answering Enid’s question. “Only with more skin showing. I held back. Didn’t want to cause a Fae heart attack.”
“A heart attack?” Enid’s forehead furrowed. “How can a dress attack one’s heart?”
Reese stared. And then remembered that Fae didn’t get sick. “A figure of speech. Never mind.” The Fae were a tad too literal.
Reese had bargained with the head seamstress to get the red dress made by agreeing to wear one or two of the throat-suffocating gowns, but it had been worth it. She hoped to give Keen the Fae equivalent of a heart attack when he saw her in it. It would serve him right after he’d punished her through training torture all week. He’d said it was for her own good, but he didn’t need to work her so hard. She could barely move after each session, the jerk.
“Help me try this one on, Enid?”
“Miss Reese, the celebration begins soon. We must bathe you, and do your hair and makeup.”
The celebration was four hours away, but Reese chose to pick her battles. The ladies liked to keep busy, and it looked like spending an afternoon primping Reese was how they planned to accomplish it.
She lifted another dress from the bed where a seamstress had laid it out. This one was a beaded green gown, and it wasn’t half bad. It didn’t look like the Victorian monstrosities the head seamstress had brought in—more like something the current princess of England would wear. In other words, proper, but very beautiful.
“What is this celebration for, anyway?” As far as Reese was concerned, inviting her to one of their events was a Fae political move she wanted nothing to do with. These people had nearly killed her in the dungeon and still held her hostage. She just wanted out.
Enid set out a robe and soap and a jar of the pretty-smelling shampoo she’d been washing Reese’s hair with. “You have not heard? There is a new master of the guard. He will proclaim his fealty to our queen this evening.”
Reese’s fingers stilled on the green beaded fabric as a chill swept down her spine. When Keen wasn’t training with her, he’d been busy. Really busy for a guy who wasn’t from here; Keen was no more an ally of New Kingdom than Reese.
“But you already know him, miss,” Enid said, and looked up. “It is the soldier, Keen of the Albrechts.”
Reese’s mind raced, her heart dropping to her belly. Keen was aligning himself with Portia? Had he been behind Reese’s abduction all along? No, that didn’t make sense. He’d saved her.
Unless he’d pretended to save her in order to get close? But why would he do that?
“Strange, is it not?” Enid went on. “Keen is from Old Kingdom. A handsome male. I do not mind having him around, despite his origins.” Her pretty cheeks pinkened.
Enid took the red dress from Reese’s hands and laid it along the bottom of the bed next to the green one. “Keen comes from an old family. Having him on our queen’s side is a great advantage.” Her brow puckered. “Though our queen is not original to our land, either. She too is an Oldlander.”
“Does that worry you? The Oldlanders being in charge?” Reese sensed concern from the girl. But she wasn’t simply reading it on Enid’s face; Reese felt the emotion grasp her chest and dip into her gut, as if it were her own, only not her own. Because the emotion had shot from Enid across space, hitting Reese in soft waves.
Okay, this was getting stranger. She needed to talk to Keen about sensing people’s feelings. But whose side was he on? Why would he pledge himself to Portia, the woman who’d had Reese kidnapped?
Enid bustled across the room. “We mustn’t speak of such things—’tis treason. A powerful leader is a blessing from the angels, no matter the leader’s origins. That is all that matters.”
No it wasn’t. Reese could tell the girl wasn’t saying everything. Enid was worried.
Something was happening. Inside this palace; inside Reese’s body. She sensed people’s true feelings, with or without physical signs. Everyone’s except for Keen’s.
She considered what Marlon had said about powers presenting. They called her Halven, but how could she be like Elena? Elena’s ability to manipulate the elements was powerful, the way a magical ability should be, not to mention way cooler. This emotion thing wasn’t what Reese had envisioned when they’d first spoken of abilities, but it was definitely odd.
Tangled in her thoughts, she didn’t realize someone had entered until Ulric was halfway across the room.
“You almost caught me undressing again,” she said. “I see Fae men have the same impeccable timing as human men.”
His mouth twitched, which Reese took for a smile. “Please excuse the interruption. I’m taking over this shift and I wanted to make sure all was well.”
“Just peachy—you know, being held captive. Don’t you guys have television or computers to make the time pass?”
“Television?”
“That’s a no, then? We really need to introduce the palace to electronics.”
“The Halven, Marlon”—condescension oozed from Ulric’s tone—“has a box that he punches his fingers on.” Ulric framed his hands to show the size.
“A computer? So only one computer in this entire place?”
“I believe so, Miss Reese.” He shifted awkwardly. “The room is to your liking? You are comfortable?”
“I’m perfectly fine.” And she was. Ever since Keen had found her, she’d been very well cared for—even spoiled to an extent, with the flower-scented baths and beautiful clothes.
Somehow Reese didn’t think that would last. And she worried about Keen’s role in all of it.
No longer would she be a passive spectator in this abduction. Mingling with the Fae this evening would be the first test. Time to find out what was really going on.
Okay, so maybe Reese shouldn’t have requested a light corset for the red gown. Part of her air supply was being cut off, but the dress looked incredible.
Suffering for fashion even in the Fae realm—that was a new one.
She turned and gazed at the back of the gown in the mirror.
“You are stunning!” Enid exclaimed. “The dress is very—uh—revealing, but such a pretty color. Are you certain you feel comfortable wearing it outside the room? It isn’t too late to switch to one of the other dresses. You have many beautif
ul ones to choose from.”
Hell to the no. First of all, the red dress was pretty, and by Earth standards, not at all daring. Second, Reese was tired of being closeted away in this room. She wasn’t the most patient person under normal circumstances, and right now someone was trying to decide her fate. She had a right to be a part of that decision-making, and what better way to get attention than to create an entrance no one could ignore? “Nope, this is the one. I’m ready when you are.”
“Oh, no, miss. I am not attending. None of the servants are. One of the guards will escort you.”
Seconds later, a knock sounded at the door—and Keen entered.
Keen often looked angry; it was a part of his charm. Other times he gave her a sultry look she tried to ignore. Too darn confusing. But right now, he stopped in mid-stride and stared at her in stunned silence.
Bull’s-eye.
Reese spun in a slow circle. “You like?”
His jaw clenched and he glared at Enid, who scurried away. “Remove it.”
“Remove it?” Reese tsked. “I intended to make a splash, but I don’t think walking out naked would draw the right attention. Besides, contrary to what some may think”—she cleared her throat pointedly—“I don’t like to reveal all the goods.”
He stepped forward, and yep—fury filled his features. But she still couldn’t sense his emotions the way she could the others’. Which was annoying. If there was anyone whose emotions she’d like to read, it was Keen.
His face contorted. “You cannot possibly wear that.”
“I absolutely can, you overbearing Fae. Who are you to tell me what to do?”
“Well, let’s see now,” he said in a deceptively calm voice, given his body vibrated, hands balled at his sides. “I am the one who saved you. I am the one who keeps you alive in enemy territory. And I am the one with the power to get you out.”
“If you have so much power, get me out now.”
He ground his molars. “I cannot. Yet.”
“Right, so not as much power as you’d like. Which reminds me—you can’t tell me what to wear!”
A deep sound of annoyance came from his throat. She should be afraid. He was big, and kind of scary when he was angry, but for some reason, Reese wasn’t afraid of Keen. He’d never hurt her. She didn’t know how she knew that, but she did. And she wasn’t reading it on his face, or from some emotion she picked up. She just knew.
“I can’t believe you’re pledging loyalty to the crazy bitch who kidnapped me,” she said, relaying Enid’s news. Not because Keen had confided in her, or anything.
He looked away. “We all must make sacrifices.”
“Doesn’t seem like much of a sacrifice if you’re given a promotion.”
His hard gaze landed on her. “And how do you know it is a promotion?”
She shrugged. “Isn’t it?”
“Things are not as they seem.”
“Then tell me how they are.”
“It’s time; we must leave. Are you going to change?”
Awesome—no answer to her question. “Nope.”
Keen looked to the ceiling, then spun toward the door. He strode across the room, and Reese hurried after him, silently cursing the corset.
8
Keen exited Reese’s room and scanned the guards. He shot each of them a look, saying without words what he’d do to them if they stared too long at Reese, or in a manner he thought disrespectful.
What was the small human trying to do? Every male in the palace wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off her.
Keen’s fists would be busy tonight.
He glanced back as Reese attempted to keep up in that ridiculous gown.
Ridiculous was a strong word. She was unimaginably beautiful—so beautiful she’d stolen his breath the moment he’d entered the room and caught sight of her.
Humans possessed beauty, he reminded himself. They could charm, and had done so for centuries. It was why Halven existed. Keen had believed, like all Fae, that the offspring of a Fae and human union were without value. At best, Halven were a nuisance, diluting the angel blood. But Keen’s charge, Elena Rosales, had proven magically powerful. As powerful as many Fae, or more so, and that was something even Keen couldn’t ignore.
That did not mean he supported matings between Fae and humans, or Halven.
It didn’t matter how beautiful Reese was; a union between the two of them would never be. Not that he had considered it—he would never consider something so preposterous.
Keen waited near the door as Reese swept out. Ulric took in her outfit, as did the other guards. All of them quickly turned away at Keen’s quelling glance. The only guard who didn’t was Ulric. He scanned Reese’s figure and shot Keen a worried look.
After Reese had described Ulric’s suggestive words to her in the dungeon, Keen had immediately sought out the guard and made it clear to him that he was to keep his attentions off her. By breaking the guard’s nose. And his arm. And his leg. Fae healed quickly; it was but a minor scratch. Had Ulric touched Reese, he would be growing a new arm right now.
After that was sorted, Keen had ordered Ulric to check on Reese. Reese was protected under the crown of New Kingdom, as long as Keen gave his loyalty to Portia. She was safe, but it was good to know another Fae watched out for the small human while Keen juggled his new duties inside the palace.
Most Fae treated Reese indifferently. Ulric’s brotherly concern for the girl was intriguing. If Keen had sensed anything remotely sensual from the guard, he would have had him removed from duty. Thus far, Ulric appeared protective, which Keen approved of. He would allow Ulric to continue looking out for her.
The others—the ones whose eyes nearly popped out of their heads at the sight of Reese’s creamy skin revealed by the red gown—would be dealt with later.
She finally reached his side. “Walk more quickly,” he said. “I haven’t got all night.”
Her pert nose tilted up. “Worried you’ll miss the celebration of your defection from the kingdom that raised and cared for you?”
He turned down the hallway, glancing back to be sure that she was following him. “Derek’s father murdered my family. I don’t feel loyalty to the Oldlander crown, even if Derek now rules.”
“What about to the people? Your friends?”
“I have no friends in Old Kingdom.”
“Why am I not surprised?” she muttered.
“I have been an Emain guard on Earth for a long time—since before you were born. My companions reside there.”
Her shoes stopped clicking on the floor beside him. Keen halted and looked back. She stood staring at him.
“What do you mean since before I was born? You’re my age, or you look my age. How old are you?”
He lifted one shoulder. “Approximately your age—physically. Chronologically, I am one hundred and twenty-seven years old. Give or take. The Tirnan-Earth continuum varies by season, year—it is difficult to predict with certainty.”
“A hundred and… What the hell, Keen!”
She glanced at the guards, a good distance behind them now. At her look, they turned their heads quickly. They’d been observing her walk down the hall, the heathens.
“Are all of you that old?”
“No,” he said, and waited for her to reach his side before he walked on. They’d never make it to the ballroom at this pace. “Most are older.”
The heels she wore clacked quickly as she attempted to match his pace. “So you’re trying to tell me you’re one of the young ones?”
“I am not suggesting anything; I am young. But don’t mistake that for inexperience.” He shot her a cocky grin.
Reese rolled her eyes, impertinent as ever. “I guess it doesn’t matter. You’re immortal. Of course you and the rest of your kind look younger longer… Hey, will I look younger too? Because that would be awesome.”
“We know very little of Halven sired by royal Fae. A Halven with no abilities lives longer than the average human.”
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br /> “I suppose that’s something,” she said, her gown swishing sensually against her delicate curves as she walked beside him. All the while, Keen caught every male, female, servant, and nobleman they passed, gawking at her.
The men’s looks were licentious, the women’s jealous. Reese would not make allies if she continued to ignore their customs.
The guards at the entrance to the celebration stood at attention as Keen and Reese approached, the sound of strings and flutes and deep bass floating out.
“My lord,” the head guard said, and nodded at Keen.
“My lord,” Reese mouthed, her expression taunting.
Keen had been given back his title after he agreed to Portia’s terms. He’d been born a nobleman, but his status had been stripped from him when he gave up his right to the throne.
They entered the ballroom to the sound of traditional Fae music. A symphony of what could best be described as a Viking-Gaelic fusion.
Reese gaped. “Wow. This makes the Oscars after-party my parents took me to last year pale in comparison. Is that champagne flowing from a waterfall?”
“That is brune, fermented allon leaves, and much stronger than champagne. Do not drink it.”
Reese nodded absently as she took in the diamond and sapphire chandeliers overhead. She appeared to scan the ornate woodwork and beveled mirrored walls that made what was a grand room appear even larger.
Keen sighed. She was completely distracted. He’d be lucky to get her out of here alive. “Do not leave my side, little one.”
“Sure,” she said, staring at the women walking past.
He’d given her two direct orders, and she’d offered no backlash. Which could only mean she wasn’t paying attention to a word he said.
A Fae ball was likely different than anything she’d been to before. Fae finery often included a blend of styles from centuries past, with beading and embroidery on the dresses, and embroidered sleeves on the tunics for the men. Brune literally flowing from the ceiling ensured everyone enjoyed themselves, and mounds of colorful fruit and finger foods were offered throughout the room as refreshments. In a few hours, a more formal dinner would also be served in a room furnished for dining, and just as elegant as this one. The dinner would consist of multiple courses, an array of desserts, and enough brune to have the guests slouching in their seats.
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