by K. A. Linde
“Viviana, dear, let’s dance.”
“Yes, darling,” she said, winking at Fordham as she passed onto the dance floor.
“Fordham, give that girl a proper twirl.”
“Shall we?” Fordham asked, gritting his teeth.
Kerrigan took his proffered hand. As they moved onto the dance floor, she breathed to him, “Viviana?”
He made a small sound of disgust. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
“Ah,” she whispered.
And then the music began, and all thoughts fled her mind. She had taken many dance lessons at the House of Dragons, mostly to satisfy Darby’s love of it. But it had never been Kerrigan’s love. Not because she was not good at it, but because it reminded her too much of home. Today, she would have to lean into that.
“Follow my lead,” Fordham said as they drew close together for the intro.
“I know how to dance, princeling,” she teased.
His eyes narrowed. “The way that you knew how to fight?”
“No,” she breathed. “The way that you do.”
He arched an eyebrow at her as the music began, and all the dancers stepped into place.
Kerrigan’s love of dance had stemmed from a very young age. She’d begged her father to take her to the balls as a child, learning all of the numbers by heart before she could do much more than toddle around. And the dances never left her. They’d burrowed down so deep as to be a part of her.
As Fordham took her hand and twirled her in place, she realized she knew this number already. She had learned it as a young child. And her very bones settled to have her repeat it.
Kerrigan moved away from Fordham, looking back at him coquettishly. Then, he grasped her hand and drew her in close. She adjusted his grip slightly, and then they were off. Their bodies not quite flush together as he held her waist with ease. Dancing with Fordham was not like dancing with anyone else. He had nimble footwork from all those years of weapons training, and they moved into the perfect rhythm between them. As if they had been born more for this moment than all those times they had fought together.
She twirled away again, and when he pulled her back the next time, he drew her in just a bit closer. And though she was supposed to move her head with the number, she found herself trapped by his gaze and unable to look anywhere else. Her pulse beat a tattoo against her throat. She found that here, there was little acting. Just a girl ensnared by her prince.
“You are full of surprises,” he said.
“And do you like being surprised?”
A small break in his facade brought a side of his lip to quirk into a smile. “It reminds me why I chose to help you.”
“Because I am irresistible?” she joked.
“Because you are unlike anyone I’ve ever known.”
“And is that a good thing?” She barely breathed the question, feeling them continue to drift together. His mouth now mere inches from hers. The song almost forgotten.
“Yes.” The word escaped him, as if he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
He released her in the final turn. When she finally stopped and the crowd applauded the show they’d put on, she found whatever ice she’d melted had solidified once more.
He pointed at her. “Dance with Prescott.”
She opened her mouth to object. How could he want his cousin anywhere near her after that dance?
But he didn’t let her ask it, just turned to the queen and took her into his arms. Kerrigan didn’t imagine the smirk on her lips.
“One dance,” Prescott promised.
She would have denied it entirely if doing as Fordham demanded wasn’t part of her act. They moved around the room effortlessly but with none of the passion she’d had in Fordham’s arms.
But when they were finished, Prescott pulled her out of the throng toward Arbor, who was standing against an obsidian pillar with a half-empty glass of punch.
“Here,” Arbor said. “You need this more than I do.”
“I need to be coherent.”
“Your part is done. Everyone saw you and believed that you were infatuated.” Arbor eyed her with a little sadness. “Or perhaps it was not all an act.”
“Give me that,” she said, taking a long gulp of the drink. Strawberries and honey—gods, it was good. “What do I do the rest of the night?”
“Get a little drunk and stay out of the way,” Prescott said. “Fordham has already shown you and me together. It is not uncommon to share.”
Kerrigan paled. “This place is disgusting.”
“It is,” Arbor agreed sadly. “But it will get you out of here sooner.”
“Thank the gods.” She finished the drink and passed it back to Arbor, who laughed. “When will we be able to drop this whole act?”
Arbor and Prescott shared a look. “Fordham is going to address the king tomorrow. I don’t know how it will go.”
“Poorly,” Kerrigan said, looking over her shoulder at the king and his child bride. “And if he doesn’t hate it, the queen will assuredly.”
“Ugh! Viviana,” Prescott groaned.
“She is terrible,” Arbor agreed, twirling a strand of her dark hair. “She has been obsessed with Fordham since we were children. I still say that she married the king to get closer to him.”
“How do you two survive this place?” Kerrigan asked. “You both seem well-adjusted.”
“It’s all we have,” Prescott said.
Arbor nodded with a shrug. “What else could we want when we can’t leave?”
Kerrigan frowned. Right. For a second, she had forgotten that this disgusting court was frozen in time. They had no governing body to stop the atrocities happening here. The Society had cut them off like a diseased appendage. They hadn’t considered how it would hurt the ones who longed to break free of the bonds, the ones who weren’t as disgusting as the rest of the court they fought against. They’d punished everyone.
“I’m sorry,” Kerrigan whispered. “I can’t imagine how it is here for you. The outside world isn’t exactly friendly to half-Fae, but the world isn’t like this at least.”
Arbor rose to her feet. “We know. We don’t blame you.” She patted Kerrigan’s shoulder. “I’m going to go dance a few rounds, so people don’t get suspicious. Have another drink and then leave with Pres. He’ll take care of you.”
“Thank you,” she said. “You two have been a big help.”
“We haven’t seen Fordham like this in a long time,” Prescott said. “Maybe… ever. We’d do anything for him.”
Arbor nodded and then disappeared into the crowd.
Prescott grabbed her drink, and together, they endured another hour of the event. Fordham never came to find them, and as soon as they could manage, they snuck out. Prescott deposited her back into Fordham’s rooms a little drunker than she’d started.
Kerrigan pulled the stays of her dress loose, and she took a deep inhale for the first time that night. Then, she collapsed back on the bed, the room spinning. She hadn’t had as much to drink as the night she’d gone out with her friends, which felt like a full lifetime ago. But the faerie punch here was potent. Maybe even more so than back home.
She didn’t know when she drifted off, but she woke again to the sound of a door closing in the darkened room. “Hello?”
And then Fordham’s tall figure appeared in the entrance to the bedroom. His cravat had been discarded, the jacket of his suit hanging over his shoulder and the first few buttons undone on his shirt. His eyes were hollow. His body a map of sensuality.
“Fordham,” she said, coming up to one elbow. Her mind was still fuzzy. “How long were you at the party?”
“Hours after you,” he said, dropping the jacket onto a divan and walking to the bed. His steps were unsteady, as if he, too, were drunk.
“Have you been drinking?”
He kicked off his shoes. “Yes.”
She swallowed as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. The material opening to reveal the smooth planes of his abdomen and the muscula
r build of his chest. “What are you doing?”
“You responded when I offered you commands,” he said with a playful smile on his lips as he let the shirt drop to the ground. “Normally, you just yell at me.”
“I couldn’t be that person tonight.”
He crawled forward on the massive bed. She remained as still as possible. She had never felt quite like she was trapped and wanted to be nowhere else.
“I almost missed that mouth of yours,” he said, dragging a finger along her red-painted lips.
“Fordham,” she whispered hesitantly. It was one thing to play-act this. It was another to do… this. Because when he was sober, he didn’t want this. He’d made that clear. “What are you doing?”
“Kissing you,” he said.
His mouth covered hers, hot and tasting of strawberries and honey. She knew that she should stop him. A part of her told her that this couldn’t happen. And yet there was no stopping Fordham Ollivier. He was a hurricane wreaking havoc on her heart. His mouth ravaging her.
Everything slowed to that moment, this very second, where his body pressed her into his bed and the taste of him on her lips, arousing her need for him. She wanted this. Even if he’d said no before, she never had. It was hard to even process the thought as his tongue delved into her mouth and touched hers.
“Oh gods,” she breathed.
And then with the only force of will she had, she used her air magic to physically push him away from her.
She scrambled off of the bed, her chest heaving, stays undone and dress askew. She would have done anything for him that night. Anything. But not like this. Not after today.
Fordham came to himself as the force of her magic hit him. His eyes rounded. “Kerrigan, I …”
“You should go.”
“I shouldn’t have—”
“No, you shouldn’t,” she said. “You told me once that we couldn’t be together because you were cursed. That I couldn’t have this. Do you feel differently?”
He straightened at the harsh reality. “No. No, I don’t.”
She nodded, grinding her teeth together. “Is this because of what happened with Dacia?”
“Don’t,” he snarled, stepping back from her as if she’d slapped him. “Don’t mention her.”
Kerrigan reared back in alarm. Prescott had said not to mention that name, but she hadn’t thought it would elicit this much of a reaction. Was he still in love with her? Was that what this was?
“Fordham, I …” Now, it was her turn to be at a loss for words.
He bowed dramatically at the waist. “My lady.”
Then, he vanished from the room, slamming the door shut between them.
Kerrigan collapsed backward. She had just made a terrible mistake. A mistake in turning him down, a mistake in bringing Dacia up. Why couldn’t it have just been fun and easy? This wouldn’t have been her first time with a man. It hadn’t had to be complicated. But this was Fordham. Nothing was just fun with him. Everything meant more, felt more, needed more. She’d lied to herself for long enough. About everything. She couldn’t lie to herself about him.
9
The Wall
Fordham was gone the next morning when Kerrigan awoke. The night before was a fuzzy mess in her head. She needed to figure out where they stood and what he was going to do about the king. Now that neither of their brains was addled with drink. But he was nowhere to be found.
Benton and Bayton came to break her fast, and she ate the offering without complaint as they dressed her for the day.
“How was the ball?” Benton asked.
Kerrigan shuddered. “Everything I thought it would be and worse.”
Bayton nodded sympathetically as she wrangled Kerrigan’s hair into place. “The balls are the hardest.”
“Princess Wynter has requested that you go riding with her this morning if you are up for it,” Benton said.
“Ah, so that’s why you’re here.”
“It would be unwise to reject an offer from the princess.”
“I have nothing better to do,” Kerrigan said. And only another week to figure out this situation.
“You know how to ride?” Bayton asked softly.
“Horses? Yes, though I prefer dragons.”
Benton shot her sister a look to silence her.
“What?” Kerrigan asked.
“Ignore my sister. It is her dream to meet a dragon,” Benton said.
“Oh, you’d hate Tieran,” Kerrigan said with a small laugh. “He’s the worst. But you’d probably like Netta. That’s Fordham’s dragon.”
“And who rides Tieran?” Bayton asked, eagerness in her voice for the first time.
“Well, I do,” Kerrigan said.
Both woman stilled.
“You are a dragon rider too?” Bayton asked. “They let… half-Fae do that?”
“Well, no, not really,” Kerrigan said. “They weren’t pleased with me for winning the dragon tournament, but yes, Tieran is my dragon.”
It still felt amazing to be able to say that out loud.
“Sister,” Bayton whispered to Benton.
“I’m sorry,” Kerrigan said, turning back to face them. “I wish that you weren’t trapped in this place. The outside world isn’t much friendlier to half-Fae, if I’m honest, but we’re not property.”
“That sounds like a dream,” Benton said, putting a hand on her sister’s shoulder.
“The House of Shadows was stripped of all dragons when we were cut off,” Bayton whispered. “All the riders were killed. An entire generation of leadership and all those beautiful dragons. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to ride one, but just to see it seems too good to be true, this outside world you speak of.”
Kerrigan nodded, swallowing down the lump in her throat. She had been discriminated against by Fae in Kinkadia simply for being who she was, but it was nothing like it was here. She wished there were something that she could do to fix this, to get them out of here. But how?
“Ignore us, miss,” Benton said. “Try to enjoy your ride with the princess today. She seems intimidating, but she isn’t all bad.” Benton pulled her sister away and made her to leave. The conversation had left her gentle soul too upset to continue. “This way.”
Kerrigan followed Benton through the corridors and to a disguised exit to the outside. It was mostly obscured by the forest beyond, but she could see a stable visible off to the right.
“I am sorry for what I said to you and Bayton,” Kerrigan said.
“Don’t think of it at all. We can’t do anything to change our stars. It’s lucky enough to meet someone such as yourself who has risen above what we could ever dream of,” Benton said with a smile and then left her to Wynter.
Kerrigan took a deep breath before pushing her way outside. The chill took her off guard. In Kinkadia, even in the morning, it would already be sticky hot. But here, it was dry and brisk. Wind rustled the trees, and birds chirped nearby. The smell of horses came to her as she closed in on the stables. It had been years since she’d ridden. It wasn’t necessary in the city. Most people went on foot. And she’d always been more interested in dragons.
“Ah, you received my request,” Wynter said as Kerrigan approached.
“I did. I thought it would be nice to get out of the mountain.”
“Well, I know just the thing.” Wynter had her hand on a chestnut horse already tacked and ready to ride. “She’s for you. This is Sienna.”
A man stepped out of the stable with a black stallion. “Your Highness, Caspian is ready for you.”
“Thank you, Jeral,” Wynter said, smiling warmly at the stable hand. Wynter passed the reins into Kerrigan’s hand and then vaulted on top of Caspian without a block or hand up.
Kerrigan gulped and stared at Sienna. She was smaller than Caspian but still much larger than she was used to, and there were no convenient places to put her feet to get up like she did with her dragon.
“Shall I assist you, miss?” Jeral asked.
“Yes, please.”
She put her boot into Jeral’s awaiting hands. He lifted her as she threw a leg over the beast. Kerrigan settled into the saddle. It wasn’t as comfortable as a dragon, but it would do. She wished that she could communicate with the horse the way she could a dragon. It felt safer.
“Good,” Wynter said, clicking her tongue at the horse and squeezing her thighs to get it moving.
Kerrigan remembered the moves and got Sienna to fall into step beside Wynter. She was glad that Wynter didn’t speak for a while, as Kerrigan needed the time to remember her lessons. She’d ridden with her father but only a pony, and it wasn’t quite the same thing.
They came upon a small creek. The horses splashed forward through it, and then Wynter finally spoke, “So, tell me about yourself.”
“About myself?” Kerrigan didn’t know what she was supposed to say. Were they still pretending like she was property? She’d rather talk about the House of Shadows than about herself. “Nothing to tell.”
“Oh, I very much doubt that.”
“Well, what do you want to know?”
Wynter’s colorless gaze was disconcerting to meet. “Everything.”
Kerrigan shrugged. “I grew up in Kinkadia and met your brother at the dragon tournament.”
“And you were working there?” she asked carefully.
In a way.
“Yes. I worked for him during the tournament.”
Also true.
“Hmm,” she mused.
They passed through an opening in the trees and came to a small clearing. Kerrigan shivered as they stepped out into the open field. Something about it felt different than the rest of the forest they’d ridden through.
“I know that you are not what you say you are,” Wynter finally said. She hopped off of her stallion and settled her black leather riding boots into the soft grass.
“What do you mean?”
“This whole act with my brother. It was very convincing, but you are not just some half-Fae he seduced.”
Kerrigan dropped to the ground next to her. She didn’t know how she would get back up, but what was more important was that she had misjudged the princess. Wynter had seen through the act that the rest of the court believed.