Chapter Ten
abriel clears his throat and snarls in my ear. “If I let go, can youG behave?”
I’m too stunned to respond. The king is watching me with a smile more brilliant than the sun itself.
He walks over and somehow becomes even more magnificent the closer he gets. Like his unfiltered magnetism is being concentrated and distilled into a potent tonic, designed to make everyone fall hopelessly at his feet. He passes through the lines the other Tributes have formed while they continue smoothing their hair and batting their eyes, but the king appears focused solely on me. Probably because I just made a complete fool of myself. He just wants to get a good look at the crazy girl they dragged from the gutter
and stuffed into a pretty dress with the misplaced notion they could transform me into someone presentable.
“Lor?” Gabriel asks again. “Are you ready to act like a lady?”
I scowl at him over my shoulder. They’re really all delusional if they think they’re ever going to make a lady out of me. Whatever the hell that means.
The king is standing in front of me now in all his unrelenting luminosity.
High Fae are always beautiful to behold, but the king is an Imperial Fae—a member of royalty—and his beauty eclipses his surroundings. I’ve only been in the presence of one other Imperial Fae before, but that was a very long time ago. And whether he was beautiful was the last thing on my mind.
What would I look like if I were to ascend to become the Sun Queen?
“I think you can let her go, Gabe.” The king’s voice is like sun-warmed wood and light filtering through honey. I feel its cadence snake its way down through my bones where it hums. Like a moth to a flame, I am completely and utterly dazzled.
“Are you sure about this, Atlas?” Gabriel asks, and the king nods.
“I’m sure.”
Gabriel complies with reluctance, staying in arm’s reach and giving me a stern I’m watching you look. Good, he should be watching. For a split second, my attention darts to Apricia, who’s staring at me with shards of ice chipped from the heart of a demon.
The king takes my hand and my breath catches. Zerra, what do I do? He’s
so tall I have to tip my head to look at his face. This close, I can see the flecks of yellow and violet that dot the endless aquamarine of his eyes. I also catch the breath of his scent and it’s heady and delicious. Something spicy and something fresh, like a twilight breeze after a thunderstorm.
“My lady, would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner in my
private chambers tomorrow evening?”
He asks it as though I have a choice, and when I feel Gabriel shift in warning behind me, I know there is only one answer. I could pretend I don’t
want to, but every part of me yearns to agree. Of course I want to have dinner with him, even if I’m already so nervous my knees feel like melted butter.
“Yes…Your…” I stop, looking around, the tips of my ears growing hot. I lean in and the king cants his head so our cheeks are nearly brushing. I repress a delicious shiver. “What do I call you?”
I attempt to say it low enough for his hearing only, but we’re surrounded by Fae and are currently the center of attention. Laughter bubbles from the other Tributes and their warders. It’s snide and mocking. I am not in on this
joke. I am the butt of all of them.
The king smiles then, but his feels genuine. It’s kind, not cruel, and I unearth a tiny kernel of hope. Even if the citizens of his court are monsters, maybe the king’s soul reflects the golden warmth of this palace.
“You may call me Atlas,” he says smoothly, and there’s a gasp in the room.
I scrunch my nose, considering his response.
“Not like an important title or something? Your Majesty? Your most exalted and benevolent one?”
Atlas lets out another chuckle, this one, too, threaded with kindness, not disdain. It’s deep and rich and settles over my shoulders like a protective
mantle. Who cares what the rest of them think if the king…if Atlas…finds me charming? Perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself, though.
“Not at all. I’m here to find a partner. I’d hardly expect my most treasured companion to refer to me by a title. My bonded will refer to me by my name.” He winks, and every rational thought flies out of my head. I’m
supposed to have dinner with this Fae? I’ll make a complete fool of myself. I have no idea how to behave or to act around someone like him.
“Please say yes,” he urges in that same way that makes it sound like it’s
my choice. The look he gives me makes me feel like I’m the only girl in this room. In this palace. In this entire kingdom. Maybe in all of Ouranos. I’ve
never been treated like anyone important or special in my life. I could get used to this.
“Yes…” I whisper, and he tilts his head in an expectant gesture, waiting for more. “Yes…Atlas,” I try, and at that, he breaks into a radiant smile. My hand still held in his, he presses his mouth to the back of it and I stop breathing. His lips are warm and soft but firm, and I wonder what they would
feel like against mine. As if reading my mind, he looks up with a gleam in his eye that makes my heart nearly fly from my chest.
“Wonderful,” he says. “I look forward to it.”
At that, Atlas drops my hand and sketches me a quick bow before turning to the other nine Tributes. “Ladies,” he says, “I also look forward to learning more about each of you. Please wait for an invitation to visit me soon.” He then bows again with a fist pressed over his heart before departing the room.
When the door closes behind him, everyone bursts into conversation.
Gabriel wraps his hand around my arm and hauls me towards the door.
“Let’s go,” he says, obviously furious with me. At a look over my shoulder, I find Apricia watching me like she’s contemplating the best way to
slice me up and have me for dinner, probably served in a stew laced with bitter spices.
Gabriel tugs me into the hall, his grip so tight I wince.
“You’re hurting me!”
He shoves me against the wall, pressing his forearm across my throat. “Is
this a game to you, Lor?” His eyes flicker with anger. “Do you think I won’t send you back to Nostraza in a flash if you fail here?”
I cling to his arm, trying to relieve the pressure on my windpipe. I open my
mouth, my answer caught in my throat. When he sees what he’s doing, Gabriel eases up. But only enough so I don’t pass out in the middle of the
hall.
“What is wrong with you?” I hiss. “Didn’t I win dinner with the king?”
Gabriel shakes his head. “You did. And I’m not sure why. Why is Atlas so interested in you, Lor? Who are you?”
He narrows his eyes as if he’s sure I’m keeping something from him.
“I’m no one. I don’t know why he chose me. Frankly, no one is more
surprised than I am. He probably just feels sorry for me.” The words tear out of me, but I can feel them for how pathetic they sound. That’s all this is. He’s humoring the poor Final Tribute before I inevitably meet my death at the end of one of these insane challenges. That way, he can tell everyone an amusing tale about how he dined with The Umbra rat who really believed she had a chance at becoming Aphelion’s next queen.
“Let’s go,” Gabriel says. “Next time, keep your temper. No one wants a queen who would be more comfortable in a tavern brawl than a ballroom.”
“She provoked me!” I shout, indignant. Gabriel stops, turns, and looms over me. Zerra, he’s really intimidating.
“So be the bigger person, Lor. That’s what queens do.”
Again he turns his back to me and stalks away and I have to admit, as his words sink in, I feel more than a little ashamed.
After Gabriel delivers me back to my room, I head straight for where I stuffed the old grey tunic Mag retrieved for me earlier. Pulling it out, I run my fingers along the hem and rip it open where I feel the hard bit I’m
searching for.
A small red jewel tumbles into my hand, and I stare at the precious family heirloom, grateful to have it back. Having it with me makes me feel a little bit
closer to Willow and Tristan. I hold it up to the light, the facets winking, except for one smoothed side that looks like it was sliced from an apple.
On the dressing table sits a jewelry box and I rummage through the contents, picking out a golden locket large enough to fit the stone inside.
Snapping it shut, I hang the chain around my neck and secure the clasp.
Staring into the mirror, I take a deep and grounding breath, gripping the locket tightly in my hand.
