Clearly baffled, Iritraya and Wyndyn belted out all the louder. The people, Alamantian and Valynthian alike, began to laugh. The tension eased, seeping away like snow before the hot sun. Confused, the two girls exchanged baffled looks. Their eyes widened as they took in the other. Both pointed. Iritraya’s hand slapped over her mouth; her singing dying with a clap. Wyndyn followed a beat behind. The two girl’s rushed toward the bathrooms on the upper branches.
They could scrub all they liked. The blue wouldn’t come all the way off until sometime tomorrow. It took everything Eiryss had to hold back an unladylike snort.
King Dray held out his hand to Ahlyn. Biting her lip to keep back her smile, she took it. The two danced, and even Eiryss had to admit they made a beautiful couple who would probably make even more beautiful children.
Movement caught her gaze. Her father’s eyes locked on her. He said something to one of his soldiers in brocade velvet and headed toward her.
“Time to go,” she said.
“Eiryss,” Hagath hissed after her.
But Eiryss was already a quarter of the way to the stairs that would take her to the dock at the base of the tree. Moments before she reached the archway, her father’s hand locked around her arm, and he pulled her up one of the side branches until they were out of sight and out of earshot.
He released her. “Eiryss,” he said firmly. “You’re seventeen—far too old for such pranks.”
She kept her gaze fixed on her feet, shame swirling inside her. “They deserved it.”
“And now they will retaliate. Then you will retaliate. On and on and on. When will it end?” He looked out over the water beneath them.
Above them, the vault shone like a bead. Through Valynthia, cities gleamed under the dome-shaped vaults, so named for their impermanence. Eiryss imagined that from above, they would look like pearls strung through a necklace, with the capital city of Hanama the largest and most lustrous.
With the vault in place to keep out the weather, the lake was like black glass, reflecting the tree perfectly. Only the rainbow-pulsing fish swimming among the branches distinguished the truth from its reflection. If she unfocused her eyes, she could almost pretend they were birds.
The shadows standing out hollows of his face made him look haggard. If there was a war, her father would lead it. And instead of protecting the king, he was chiding his wayward daughter.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered.
“What have you been training for years for?”
Here came the lecture. “To serve our people.”
“And why must you serve them?”
She sighed in exasperation. “Because I’m in a position of power.”
He pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. “Ah, my girl. I’ll speak with their fathers tonight. We’ll make sure a cessation of hostilities is negotiated and sealed with iron.”
She buried her head into her father’s chest and let the familiar smell of him—like old books and magic—comfort her. “I should have come to you.”
He chuckled. “Sounds like you were dealing with it pretty well on your own.”
She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Of course I was.”
He tugged the flower from behind her ear. She’d crushed it when she rested her head against him. “You’re going to be a formidable woman. I’m a little worried for your enemies.”
She smiled, and for once she didn’t worry about keeping her teeth hidden behind her lips. They matched his, after all. He motioned for her to follow him.
“Just, give me a moment,” she said.
He studied her before handing her the lampent. “You have to stay at least a couple more hours, but don’t wait for me after that. I imagine the council will be at it all night.”
Council of Lords and Ladies—a bunch of old men and women who had nothing better to do than stir up trouble.
He left her. She released the flower, watching as it fell helplessly toward the dark water. It landed, spreading ripples that changed the tree’s reflection, then bounced back and changed it again. A discordant ripple, and the flower was pulled to the depths by an unseen predator.
Taking a deep breath, she went back to the gala and came face to face with Ramass.
“Did your father toss you into the lake?” he asked.
“Clearly.”
“You deserve it.”
“Always.” She looked about for Hagath and found her hurrying toward the exit, a flushed acolyte beside her. A lower caste acolyte. The girl definitely hadn’t been invited to the gala, which meant she’d come to fetch Hagath.
Eiryss’s heart sank. She’d hoped to spend the evening with her friend. But clearly, one of her patients had taken a bad turn. With her working all weekend, Eiryss didn’t know when she’d see her friend again.
“Come on.” Ramass took her hand, and she sighed.
At least I still have Ramass.
He led her to where everyone was dancing. They hadn’t finished their rotation when King Dray approached them, Ahlyn’s hand slipped through the crook of his elbow. He was more than ten years her senior and a widower. Rumor had it that his two sons were the terror of the Alamant. He bowed to Ramass. “Lady Eiryss, might I have a dance?”
Ramass abandoned her like she’d suddenly turned rancid. He and Ahlyn were dancing before Eiryss could formulate a protest. King Dray held out his hand.
Light, she couldn’t think of a way to politely decline. She pressed her palm into his, wincing a little at the feel of his moist grip. He spun her about, clearly an excellent dancer.
“I’m surprised you remembered my name,” she murmured at his chest. He’d met all the high nobility before dinner, but there were a lot of them.
“I wanted to thank you.”
She resisted the urge to shoo his hand off her hip. “For what?”
“Lightening the mood earlier.”
He was thanking her for easing the tension with her prank. Heat climbed up Eiryss’s cheeks. Who had told him? Ahlyn? The little traitor. “I don’t understand your meaning.”
His eyes flashed with amusement. “I’ll take what help I can, even if that wasn’t your intent.”
What harm was admitting her guilt to a foreigner? “Had I known that, I would have saved my revenge for later.”
He tipped his head back and laughed. He really isn’t too bad looking, she admitted ruefully. But his flawless, dark skin and black eyes only made her distrust him more, and she hadn’t thought that possible.
Eiryss caught sight of her father watching them from where he stood next to the king, his expression dark, one hand on the hilt of his sword. She flashed a smile at him to let him know she was all right.
Dray followed her gaze. He spun her deftly and then pulled her back into his arms. “Your father is a legend, Eiryss, even among the Alamant. Is it true—that he is as honorable as he is skilled?”
You have no idea. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
“I would, but he never leaves the king’s side.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And what would you have to say, King Dray, that you couldn’t say in front of my king?”
He twirled her again and again, so that her head spun before settling her against him—close enough that the line of her hip touched his. “Just a friendly meeting between commanders.”
Mercifully, the song came to an end. She backed from his arms, relieved to be free of his touch. He caught her hand. She felt the press of paper between their palms. “Will you give this to your father?”
This was not the first time someone had used her to gain access to her father, and she had strict instructions to always pass the information along. “Very well,” she sighed.
She slipped it into her pocket and bowed only as low as she had to. “King Dray.”
He inclined his head. “I hope to see you again soon, Lady Eiryss.”
She gave a tight smile and backed away to the outskirts. With Hagath gone and Ramass occupied, she scanned the room for someone else to
spend the evening with. Instead, her gaze snagged on Wyndyn and Iritraya, who shot daggers at her. Biting her lip, she caught sight of a familiar figure moving along the outskirts, behind the tables. Her gaze lightened on Kit in his Silver Tree guard uniform.
He was her brother’s age, a good dancer, an excellent kisser and very pretty—even if he was far enough beneath her station to never be an equal. There were a very select few acceptable to court her. Lord Darten and his droning, for instance. Gah! She was never going to marry.
Judging by the way Kit was heading toward the exit, he’d just ended his shift. She angled to intercept him. She timed it so she popped out in front of him, her grin so wide it was hard to keep her lips together over her teeth.
He started and began to smile before glancing around nervously. “Eiryss.”
She grabbed his hand. “Come on. We’re going to drink all the king’s wine and dance until they make us go to our hometrees.” She picked up a glass and pushed it into his hands.
He looked around nervously. “Eiryss, you know I’m not high nobility.”
“I am.” She tipped the wine to her lips. It was actually very good—hints of rose and apples—so the Alamantians could at least do one thing right. “Only the king’s and Ahlyn’s family outrank me. Neither of whom will bother with me bringing a friend.”
He didn’t look certain. She lifted the bottom of his glass. “Come on. It’s hours yet before I can go home.” She watched his mouth pinch in uncertainty. Watched as he finally gave in, lifting the glass to his lips and licking the traces of wine away.
She smiled, planning to take full advantage of those lips later. She finished the rest of her glass and pulled him among the other dancers.
For Eiryss, everything changes in the very next chapter . . .
If you love stories filled with swoony romance, dark magic, and wicked curses, order your copy today!
Acknowledgments
Thanks go out to my amazing editing team: Charity West (content editor) and Jennie Stevens (copyeditor); and my talented design team: Michelle Argyle (cover designer) and Bob Defendi (mapmaker).
My everlasting love to Derek, Corbin, Connor, Lily, and God.
***
Amber Argyle is the bestselling author of numerous fantasy and romance novels. Her award-winning books have been translated into several languages and praised by such authors as NYT bestsellers David Farland and Jennifer A. Nielsen.
Amber grew up on a cattle ranch and spent her formative years in the rodeo circuit and on the basketball court. She graduated cum laude from Utah State University with a degree in English and physical education, a husband, and a two-year-old. Since then, she and her husband have added two more children, which they are actively trying to transform from crazy small people into less-crazy larger people. She's fluent in all forms of sarcasm, loves the outdoors, and believes spiders should be relegated to horror novels where they belong.
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OTHER TITLES BY AMBER ARGYLE
Forbidden Forest Series
Lady of Shadows
Stolen Enchantress
Piper Prince
Wraith King
Curse Queen
Fairy Queens Series
Of Ice and Snow
Winter Queen
Of Fire and Ash
Summer Queen
Of Sand and Storm
Daughter of Winter
Winter’s Heir
Witch Song Series
Witch Song
Witch Born
Witch Rising
Witch Fall
Wraith King Page 45