He looks down at his elegant, tailored black tuxedo.
“This old thing?” he waves me off with a wink. “The cleavage is a nice touch as well,” he points to my chest.
“Um, thanks.”
A strange gleam crosses his eyes. I drop my gaze from him, feeling like he can see right through me.
“That sex blush looks good on you too. It relaxes you.”
“And there it is.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
“I think the polite thing to do is not mention it.”
“I never claimed to be polite. Just wildly handsome,” he says arrogantly, presenting me with his hand.
When I take it, he places mine securely on his arm.
“Let’s go dance the night away and drink too much.”
And with that, he teleports us into the entryway of the castle, where Rionach and Ophelia are greeting guests.
While in line, I attempt to muster my courage and straighten my spine. Zander leans in and whispers, “I’ve got you, champ.”
We are announced, and as we approach the queen and Rionach, fear shines in Ophelia’s eyes. She quickly recovers by plastering on a fake, uncomfortable smile.
Stepping closer, she dips her chin. “Princess Serena, Prince Zander,” she greets us formally, with a shaky tone.
I curtsy and Zander bows slightly.
“Your Majesty, Commander,” Zander returns.
“Well, don’t you both look lovely this evening,” the queen adds politely, still shaken.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. As do you,” I motion to her exquisite floor-length dress.
It’s nude in color, tight-fitted and long-sleeved. Black sparkly branches are strategically placed throughout the design to resemble a tree. Fitting for the queen of the woodland realm.
“I agree, you look stunning.” Zander kisses her cheek.
“I second that.” Rionach states, inclining his head to us.
He’s dressed sharply this evening in a tuxedo.
“What a wonderful and happy occasion,” he announces.
“Yes, well,” the queen glances at her husband before looking suspiciously between the two of us. “I do trust this evening will be one of cordialness with focus only on the bride and groom to be.” Her tone is a blithe warning.
“Of course,” Zander answers. “Love is indeed in the air.”
He leans toward me, kissing my cheek, lingering a moment for effect before pulling away and winking.
“Now, if you’ll excuse us, Your Majesties, there is a room full of people I am anxious to introduce my love to.” Zander pats the hand I have on his arm, and guides us into the elegant ballroom.
Tonight, it’s decorated in purples and creams. If this weren’t a celebration honoring the man I love and his fiancée, I would envy the simplicity and beauty of the room.
“Drink?”
“Yup,” I pop my p.
Zander grabs two glasses of champagne from a silver tray being passed and hands one to me with a smirk.
Raising his glass, he toasts. “To fate.”
I clink my glass with his. “To fate.”
We sip and he winks at me. “I like that you drink. Now, if you’d just let me feel you up, you’d be the perfect date.”
“Not a chance. Snag me one of those bacon thingies, would you? I am starving,” I motion to the tray of passed hors d’oeuvres and Zander grabs a few, handing them to me.
I moan in pleasure biting into one as he watches me.
“What?” I ask.
“This afternoon’s activities leave you a little hungry?”
I roll my eyes and shove another bite in my mouth.
“Tell you what, you keep feeding these to me, and I’ll let you grab a boob,” I tease.
Zander’s eyes light up. “Really?”
I swallow the bite in my mouth. “Ah, no.”
He pouts. “I dress up for you. Take you somewhere nice. Throw expensive champagne down your throat and feed you bacon. And what do I get? Nothing. Not even a, ‘Hey Zander, it’s true. You are devilishly good-looking.’”
Feeling bad, I exhale. “Fine. You are, like, good-looking.”
“FINALLY!” he throws his hands in the air dramatically, causing me to laugh—really laugh—for the first time in what feels like forever. Zander is good for the soul.
He winks, and we both freeze when Oren and Lily make their way through the room. Both are formally dressed, Oren in a tuxedo and Lily in a lovely, blush-colored, one-shouldered silk gown. They greet guests with smooth, casual smiles.
“Looks like it’s showtime,” Zander whispers, and clasps our hands, giving me an encouraging squeeze.
My eyes lift to Zander’s and I’m suddenly nervous. I flatten my free hand on my stomach, where the half-dozen bacon things I ate are proving to have been a bad idea.
Oren gives me a calculated smile as he and Lily approach us after making their way around the room.
“Prince Zander,” he greets first. “Princess Serena, I’m surprised to see you here this evening.”
Refusing to let him intimidate me, I lift my chin. “Is that so?” I attempt to hide the note of irritation in my voice.
“It’s funny how you’ve recently begun to turn up in the most unexpected of places. If I may be so bold, why are you really here?” He asks me point blank.
I smile, not taking his bait. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I mean, you must be a masochist to watch your true love marry another,” he throws out with a cruel smile.
He’s right. And if this were real, my heart would be shattering into a million pieces. But it’s not. It’s for show.
“I’m here for Zander, and Zander only.” I continue to fake-smile as a tense vein shows itself on his forehead.
“What can I say? Serena is impressed by size, which is why she has chosen me over Tristan.” Zander steps in, sliding his gaze to mine before his expression turns serious. “Oh, my apologies, I suppose that bit of information is bad news for your daughter. Regardless, Tristan is hard-working. Rest assured his try-hard attitude will make up for his lack of girth when producing offspring,” he adds.
At his statement, I almost spit out the sip of champagne I took. Instead, I begin to cough uncontrollably. Zander rubs my back and I wave him off. “I’m fine. Wrong pipe.”
When I’m finished, he pinches my chin between his fingers, looking me over. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nod, unable to speak as the last of my coughs leave me.
Zander faces Oren and Lily. “Apologies, what I meant to say is it’s an honor to be here on this joyous occasion.”
Annoyed, Oren places his hand on his wife’s back, pushing her forward. “Serena, I don’t believe you’ve been properly introduced to my wife Lily, Freya’s mother.”
“I have not.” I dip my chin. “Empress Consort.”
A cold glare greets me as she slides her stare over me before granting Zander a warm, friendly smile.
“Zander, as always it’s lovely to see you,” she coos.
“You as well, Empress,” he blushes under her stare.
I narrow my eyes at the action, which is weird for him.
With a worried expression marring her face, Ophelia and Rionach approach. “I do hope everything is all right. I noticed you choking, Serena.”
I clear my throat and nod. “Yes, thank you, Your Majesty. The champagne simply went down the wrong pipe as I was being introduced to the empress consort.”
The doors to the ballroom close and a loud trumpet is sounded, announcing Freya and Tristan’s arrival.
I stiffen and inhale through my nose.
As all eyes focus on the doors, Rionach moves behind his wife, to my free side. His hand slips into mine, squeezing once before letting go. I raise a curious glance to him, and he simply smiles down at me paternally, granting me a look of understanding. I really need to work on hiding my feelings much better. My nerves jump sky high.
The
butterflies come alive when Tristan walks in wearing a tailored black suit and crisp white shirt with the top button open. Freya dazzles the room on his arm in her deep-ocean-blue gown. Everything on it sparkles, like her, including the thin straps holding it up. The breathtaking material glides along the floor, cascading like water.
They stop for a moment while the throng of guests clap and toast to their faux happiness. A bright smile graces Freya’s lips as she enjoys her moment in the spotlight.
Tristan looks dangerous, his jaw tense as his eyes shift around the room. When his eyes land on me, he relaxes.
I incline my head to him, and he returns the gesture. Feeling solemn watching the scene play out, I lean into Zander, who puts his arm around my shoulder for support and squeezes.
Tristan’s cognac eyes narrow fiercely on Zander’s arm, and his nostrils flare in anger. I shake my head in warning just as Oren looks over his shoulder at me, and then back to Tristan. Tristan notices Oren, and tilts his head toward Freya, offering her a bright, happy smile as he takes her into his arms and moves her around the dance floor.
Dismissing the scene, I turn to Zander, who, for the next hour, leads me around the room, introducing me to the important dignitaries in attendance. After each introduction, he makes sure to explain what each person’s role is, and how it affects the monarchy and state of the realm. It’s the perfect distraction and honestly, educational.
The entire time Zander is parading me around, I feel the weight of Tristan’s eyes on me. Even with the french doors open to the balconies, the air in the ballroom is so heavy and tense that it’s hard to breathe.
A glass of champagne appears in front of me as Zander leads me out onto the balcony into the evening air. I inhale deeply, relishing the flower-scented breeze.
That’s the thing about Zander: he always knows what you need before you do. He grins at me; it’s a smile that makes you think he’ll promise you everything under the sun, including dirty, sexy things. It’s easy to see how he gets his way with little to no effort.
My response is to roll my eyes at his attempt.
“I paid extra for the moon in the hopes you’d kiss me.”
“Oh?” I giggle. The champagne finds him charming.
We both lean against the railing, facing one another.
“How are you holding up, champ?”
I shrug. “It is what it is.”
Awareness dawns on his handsome face that I’m struggling. “Well, you’re not all shouty and punchy, so . . .”
Feeling brave, I ask, “What did I witness between you and Lily earlier?”
He feigns innocence. “What do you mean?”
“The awkward exchange; you blushed.”
“I don’t blush.”
“You did.”
“No.”
“You totally did.”
“Fine. So, what if I did?”
“Well, now you need to cop to it.”
“What I need is to cop a feel.”
I growl. “My fault. I walked right into that one.”
“Yeah, you did,” he laughs, and becomes quiet, lost in thought.
“Do you think Oren will ever let the rain fall?”
“He wants you weak when they attack. They know you source the rain’s energy, so my guess is no.”
I sigh heavily, suddenly tired and sad.
Zander taps his shoulder with mine. “Does the frowny face work with Tristan?”
“Sometimes.” My eyes float out to the realm. “Sometimes my sexy eyes work too.”
“Now those I would like to see,” he teases.
“Keep dreaming, pretty boy.”
He smiles brightly. “You have a nickname for me.”
“What?”
“You called me pretty boy.”
“I did?”
“Yup, so either you think I am actually pretty, and want to make sexy eyes at and with me, or you have a nickname for me now, which makes us the best of buddies,” he retorts.
“Nickname,” I reply quickly.
“Fair enough.”
“Unless you want to share a secret with me. Then we can be best friends forever.” I stare into the inky night.
His gaze follows mine.
“When I was a teenager, I had this huge crush on Lily.”
“What?” My tone goes high.
“Shhh,” he scolds, and looks around before returning his focus onto the darkened land. “Like, this ridiculous crush.”
“Are you telling me this so we’ll be best friends?”
“I’m telling you this because you look all sad and shit. And trust is important between us. So I’m sharing. Even Tristan and Magali don’t know this,” his tone firm.
My eyes widen and I zip my lips with my fingers.
“She was my first.”
I pinch my face. “First what? Girlfriend?”
He gives me a sharp look. “I think you’re smart enough to know I didn’t send her flowers and court her.”
“First crush then—oh, wait, are you saying that she took your virginity?” I prod with my mouth open.
“Would you stop?” he grabs my hand and pulls me into the corner where no one else is. “How old are you?”
“Tristan always made it seem like you liked Freya.”
“I pretended to, to throw him off track. For years, Lily and I were—”
“Lovers?” I finish for him, and he winces.
“Yes. As I got older, I realized that I suffered from just a simple teenage crush. And on her part, she was attracted to my satyr gifts. Like most women who use me.”
He smiles sadly and my heart sinks.
“You are more than just a nymph, Zander. You’re smart, funny, charming, devilishly good-looking, and any being would be more than lucky to have you. I know Mags is.”
He pulls me into a tight embrace and I go willingly, allowing myself to relax in his arms. I hadn’t realized how much I needed a true friend with me during all this, until now.
Movement from the corner of my eye has me stiffening. I look up to see Freya and Tristan rounding the corner and approaching us. Freya wears a happy grin, and Tristan, well, given how it looks—Zander and I in a dark corner, embracing—he looks murderous.
I try to push away from Zander with a wide-eyed stare.
With a huge sigh, he reaches for my hand and picks it up, squeezing, and refuses to let go, even when I try to escape.
“There’s the happy couple,” Zander’s voice sounds light.
“Are you referring to yourselves or us?” Freya counters, delighting in what she thinks she sees.
“I was hoping to have a moment alone with Serena,” Freya says, her gaze sliding between Tristan and Zander.
Everyone falls silent until I clear my throat.
“That would be lovely.”
Both brothers’ expressions turn guarded and worried.
“Don’t fret, gentlemen. We’ll just be right over there in plain eyesight.” Her voice is calm and childlike.
Zander dips his head in acknowledgment. “Ladies.”
Freya is a xana, which means the water nymph can easily become angry and violent, if pushed too far.
She shoves up on her tiptoes and places a kiss on Tristan’s cheek; I curb my desire to smash her pretty face into the wall over, and over, and over again.
“Shall we, Your Highness?” She motions to the other side of the balcony, which is empty, and I follow.
“To what do I owe this great honor?” I feign politeness.
“I do believe I owe you an apology, Princess Serena.”
Her voice and face are calm, despite the uneasiness emanating off her in palpable waves. It’s nauseating.
“How so?”
“With all that is going on, sadly, you and I haven’t had a simple moment to become reacquainted.” Her tone is eerily civil. “Since our first meeting in the forest, I mean. When you came upon me during my melancholy moment.”
I guess she wasn’t referring to the time
when Queen Ophelia outed her and Tristan’s engagement after dinner.
“Your apology, while most gracious, is unnecessary.”
“I appreciate your kindness,” she replies with grace.
“I am curious, though,” I begin. “I mean, if you’ll indulge me for a moment, I have a question regarding that day.”
“Of course, Your Highness, ask me anything.”
“Did you know who I was that day, and that Tristan was protecting me?” The branches on her brows pull together. “I mean, is that why you kept his name from the conversation?” I ask, trying not to look at him.
“You summoned me, by turning the stream vernal. It was an invitation, was it not?” Her tone sharpens as she attempts to twist the conversation while maintaining her well-bred manners.
I take in a deep, calming breath. “You are correct. I summoned you because I thought you were hurt. I was trying to help you. My intentions were kind in nature. Do you want to know what I believe your intentions were?”
She glances at me, clutching her small platinum comb. “I would be happy to listen to your thoughts on the matter.”
Polished. She’s always so polished. I smile respectfully.
“I believe you knew who I was. I also believe you knew Tristan was assigned as my protector. I don’t believe that our meeting was coincidental that day. You released the amethyst hue, and the cries, so I would come to you and summon you,” I state in a poised manner.
“Why the water realm would I do that?”
“So you could warn me off with your story about love. You shared your feelings with me that day, helped me feel love and then loss, as a warning. Am I incorrect?”
She regards me, considering my words. “Your Highness, you are quite astute. I shared a cautionary tale, which sadly, you did not heed. And now, we are in this most ungracious position.”
“And what position is that exactly?”
From my peripheral vision, I see Tristan lean closer. I know that with his gargoyle hearing he can hear the conversation and is listening to every word while sharing it with Zander. Freya seems to have forgotten he has this gift.
Freya’s eyes turn cold and her voice becomes cross. “You were banned from this realm for a reason. Yet, here you are, on Zander’s arm this time. That day in the forest, I expressed to you how deeply I love Tristan. I even showed you my love for him through a shared connection, and yet, even after discovering he was betrothed to me, you tried to take him from me.” She begins to comb her platinum hair, a nervous habit of xanas. “Since you’ve returned, he has gone missing for hours at a time. I’m not stupid or blind. I know he’s with you. I see the way he looks at you, Serena.”
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