Fortuna Sworn

You trade in edicts and secrets; mine is nightmares and terror. Nothing I see will give me a second’s pause, faerie.”

Belatedly, I noticed the crown, resting haphazardly and abandoned on the floor. Feeling like an old woman, I slowly bent to pick it up. That was when I noticed the stares.

Every faerie in the room waited for me to say something. As I put the crown back into place, I didn’t let myself look toward the throne, where Collith had remained throughout the whole ordeal. His voice drifted through my memory. History has already proven that ruling with fear leads to discord and treason. When I took the throne, I sought to rule with law and objectivity instead.

Fear was all I knew.

“Let this be a lesson to all of you,” I said, meeting as many gazes as I could. Damon kept crying. “If you fuck with me and mine, I will return the favor tenfold.”

“Fortuna.” The way Collith said my name caught at me. I finished tying the laces but gave him my full attention. He faltered, and as the seconds stretched and thinned, the entire scene felt like déjà vu. Collith’s first warning echoed back to me. Honesty isn’t in my nature.

I watched him wage an inner war, unable to detect what exactly was happening behind those amber eyes—he kept the doors to his mind firmly closed. At last he asked, his voice strained, “Have I been clear enough?”

“Clear enough about what?”

He raked his hair back with long, pale fingers. He looked more agitated than I’d ever seen him. “The consequences of entering into these trials,” he clarified. “Even if you win, you don’t win.”

I tilted my head, thinking about this. Though it was strange to have a conversation with Laurie there, acting like he wasn’t, a curtain of desperation hung around Collith that I couldn’t ignore. I got up and went to the door; I thought that would be answer enough. But Collith stayed where he was. We stood a foot away from each other now and I had to arch my neck back to look at him. Somehow I’d forgotten how much taller he was than me. “Do you have any siblings, Your Majesty?” I asked abruptly.

His face gave nothing away. “No.”

“Okay. Do you have anyone?”

“I have you,” Collith said simply. It was just as blunt, just as direct as the answer he’d given at Bea’s when I asked what he wanted. You.

“I think you’ve underestimated this one, Arcaena. Power lurks in her depths,” he remarked. His voice was polite and distant, as though they were talking about the selection of food or what everyone was wearing.

“Ah, yes, I see it now. She’s bound.” Arcaena’s red lips tilted up in an amused smile. “Wrapped in chains of her own making. Shall we take them off?”

The male also smiled faintly. The effect was chilling, as though his mouth weren’t accustomed to it. In that instant, I realized they had to be twins. “She would consider it a punishment, I think, rather than a kindness.”

“We have a lifetime ahead of us,” I reminded him, raising my eyebrows right back in a silent challenge. I laid back down, making the bed frame creak. “Sooner or later, I’ll learn the truth.”

Collith didn’t respond. Following suit, he stretched out beside me. This time he rested on his stomach, both of his hands tucked beneath the pillow. His biceps flexed, sharp and defined, like a paper cutout. The muscles in his back gleamed. Those long, jagged scars somehow seemed part of it, belonging on his skin like the small details in a distant horizon. So beautiful, I thought. Too beautiful.

As he got settled, Collith kept his face turned toward mine, making it all too easy for him to notice the direction of my focus. “I think you’re beautiful, too,” he murmured.

Instinct urged me to reject him, embarrass him in front of the entire court. But there was also… curiosity. I’d been in a pattern for years, going to the same places, saying the same words, making the same choices. So I allowed myself to remain there, in the circle of his arms. Thankfully Collith accepted this as an answer, because I couldn’t seem to give him one.

I was so intent on them that I stumbled. Collith righted me and moved into the next step without missing a beat. At first, I watched his feet, captivated by the way they didn’t seem to touch the floor. But the dance was simple, and soon, I began to see a pattern. My heart hammered as I attempted to imitate him. I glanced up for a moment, wondering if he’d noticed. A faint smile lit his dark eyes. “Very good,” he murmured.

Now I arched my head back completely, searching his gaze, though I didn’t know what I was looking for. Against my better judgement, I found myself moving with him. Matching him step for step, enjoying the music sliding through me. We clasped hands, let go, locked eyes. Did it all over again. There were so many colors, so many other creatures surrounding us, but for the first time in my life I understood what it felt like to feel the rest of the world fade. Overhead, small lights bobbed, unattached to wires or walls. Magic.

If the faerie was offended by this, he didn’t show it. He refocused his gold-lined eyes on my face. “You did well during the tribunal,” he commented.

My lip curled. “How so? By not dying?”

“You did not allow us to break you. We do so love our broken things.”

“Thank you for your kind words, Tarragon,” Collith interjected. He turned to me, effectively ending the conversation. “May I have this dance?”

“Okay, you can look now. Not that my permission stopped you before.”

Ignoring this, Laurie turned and regarded me thoughtfully. A line deepened on the left side of his mouth. There was no trace of admiration or desire in his gaze. It was so expertly hidden, in fact, that I wondered if I’d imagined it. “Perhaps we should skip the makeup this time,” he suggested.

“Why?”

“You’re being presented as the King’s mate. Everyone knows you’re not fae. Why act like you’re trying to blend in? Embrace what you are. Display it like a badge of honor.”

There were two extra pieces, so long they almost touched the floor when I held them aloft. Metal encircled the end of each. Were these sleeves? Thinking to ask Laurie, I glanced toward him.

To my surprise, he was gazing back at me. No, not quite at me; his eyes lingered on my body instead. “You’re looking!” I accused.

Before the words completely left my mouth, Laurie was already facing the wall again. As he spoke, I could only see the back of his head, but somehow I knew he was smirking. “I did no such thing. You’re hardly my type.”

I hurriedly stepped into the dress and pulled it up—at least it was lighter than it looked. My bra straps were at odds with the ensemble, so I bent my arms at an awkward angle to undo the clasps. “Just what is your type?” I asked crossly, tossing the bra onto the cushion, where the dress had been.

“Dull and compliant, of course.”