“Your table is fine, Lady Queen,” I managed to comment, despite the immortal child across the table from me staring at my mouth as if it were a map to his next expedition. I fought back a shudder at the thought. “The intricacy of the design…I would love to know the name of the craftsman.”
The prince snorted. “Are you in the market for a dining table, then?”
“No. But I’d love to learn to make them.”
The queen raised her eyebrows, more out of curiosity than judgment. “It’s the work of an Avelean craftsman by the name of Boeuk. We pay him handsomely for his skills.”
“You mean to convince us that a human woman is interested in craftsmanship?”
My blood went hot from the king’s condescension, but when I turned to face him, I found no such thing. Only curiosity. In fact, his mouth rose at the edges as if he were pleased.
“I…” I swallowed, disarmed by the fae king’s genuine interest. “I do. I mean, I am. My father supplies most of the glass windows in the city. He’s trained me as his apprentice since I was a child. But my interests extend past windows. I wish to create art, clothing, jewelry. Even to stain the windows that we sell. There’s something about using glass as a canvas…the way it allows the sunlight to pass through the paint… It’s… Well, it’s breathtaking.”
“Breathtaking, indeed.” The king smirked as he took a sip from his goblet. “And how, might I ask, did you come to be the unfortunate soul who is now bound to my son?”
Across from me, I thought I sensed the prince shift in his chair, but I dared not look at him now.
When my answer found itself lodged in my throat, Evander cleared his throat. “She crafted the glass slippers worn by the woman with whom I danced at the ball.”
The king smiled from behind his goblet, his grin eerily ancient, too calculating to match the youth of his face. “The woman who had the good sense to run before it was too late, you mean?”
Evander opened his mouth, then shut it and swallowed. His father raised a brow, as if he weren’t used to his son reining in his disrespect. Apparently Evander wasn’t used to it either, because his throat bobbed, and his voice went dry as he spoke. “She informed me she was required to leave by midnight. She wouldn’t have taken off so quickly, only she was having so much fun, she lost track of time.”
“Evander,” the queen said, resting a thickly bejeweled hand upon his arm. “It’s impolite to speak of other women in front of your betrothed.”
“Mother,” Evander said, grasping the queen’s hand with such gentleness, even I was tempted to find it endearing. “Lady Payne is just as confused as I am about this situation we find ourselves in. I’m certain she doesn’t mind.”
“Speaking of this mystery woman of Evander’s…” The king turned toward me. “You must have met her, haven’t you? If you’re the one who crafted her shoes? Surely you recall this young woman’s name, something we could use to identify her, since she bought her shoes from you.” His dark eyes glinted with vengeance, with an invitation.
Play this game with me? his eyes seemed to say.
I couldn’t help but accept.
CHAPTER 11
ELLIE
I took a sip from my goblet and chanced a glance at Evander. His jaw had gone rigid, but his eyes pleaded with me. Was it real, or just part of his plan? He was the one who had told me to bond with his father over our shared disregard for the prince’s lack of sense. Besides, I needed this. I had no desire to be stuck with a lazy rake for the rest of my life. No riches in the world could undo what my parents had placed inside my heart. I wouldn’t be muted and tamed for the sake of propriety. For the sake of a good match.
No, I would make my own way in this world.
And I would marry for love.
So I played my part, answering the king’s inquiry regarding whether I remembered anything about the prince’s mystery woman. “Perhaps I could, had she bothered to pay. Or even notify me of her intentions to take my shoes for herself.”
My words landed, and the king’s eyes flickered with amusement as the prince squeezed his eyes shut and created a fist with his hands. Decent acting on his part, I had to admit.
He almost had me convinced it bothered him that I had slipped this tidbit of information.
“Should I call for the second course?” The queen straightened in her seat. “Marken, Evander, I know how you love the flanveise. I asked Collins to prepare it tonight.”
This moved me a bit—the queen’s equally desperate and hopeless attempts to unite the two people she loved the most. I wondered if things had been different before Prince Jerad had passed, if he had been the glue that held the family together. Other than the fact that the entire kingdom rested on their combined shoulders, that is. The memory of the late prince’s death only swayed me further toward pitying the queen. What must it feel like to have your older son ripped away from you, leaving your family fractured, your soul desperate to suture the two remaining pieces of your heart?
“I’ve never had flanveise. Is that a fae dish?” I asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from the prince’s folly, even just for a moment, if it might spare the queen some pain.
The wrinkles between her perfectly plucked brows softened a bit, and though her smile was effortful, it seemed eager and genuine. “Oh, you’ve never had flanveise? Well, of course you wouldn’t have. I forget it is customarily not a human dish. You’ll be delighted, I’m sure. Stanton!” she called, to which a servant rushed forward. “We’re ready for the flanveise now.”
The servant nodded and shuffled off, leaving the table in silence. Before I could insert my voice into the awkwardness by asking about how a flanveise is prepared, the king spoke, his voice dripping with insult. “So, Evander. Do you happen to be cursed with poor luck, or were all the eligible young women at the ball too boring for your tastes, leading you to seek out a petty thief?”
“I was not aware that she was a thief.”
“Did you not approach me, begging for me to cosign a bargain? One that would bond you to the woman who had stolen your heart?”
Heat rushed to my cheeks on Prince Evander’s account. Sure, he was an idiot. He deserved to be taunted. I just found myself wishing it was coming from my mouth, the mouth of a complete stranger, not his father’s.
But apparently Evander was used to it, because he transitioned to the next topic without missing a beat. “Perhaps if the lovely Miss Payne had been in attendance, I would have had the chance to dance with someone more admirable.” Even in his compliment, he sneered, and I found myself sneering right back.
“Perhaps so,” his father said before looking at me. “Why is it you declined my son’s invitation to the ball?”
The queen answered for me, twirling her gloved thumbs. “I am sure she had prior obligations, didn’t you, dear?”
The king was not convinced. “Obligations that were more important than a royal invitation?”
Suddenly, my pity for Evander dissipated, and I found myself wishing the king’s attention might return to berating his son with humiliating questions.
“Perhaps she has elderly or sickly parents. And perhaps it is none of our business.” The queen offered me an amiable grin. An I-want-to-be-your-friend, it’s-us-against-them, it’s-up-to-us-to-bring-them-together kind of smile. She was dazzling, and the genuineness of her gesture warmed me, but as I glanced back and forth between Evander and his father, I couldn’t help but notice the prince’s cold stare, not directed at his father, but at me. Like he was trying to send me a message.
It took one look at the king to recognize why.
