Page 104 of Fearless

I take a breath and paste a warm grin on my face. “I may have helped deliver the final blow. Which wasn’t very benevolent”—I clear my throat—“toward the creature.”

Kai dips his head, hiding a smile. Jax follows after his older brother, though far less discreetly with a choking cough. And Kitt—

Kitt just stares at me.

I can’t read this look, and I typically pride myself on being able to do just that. Something like realization lights those green eyes. Or perhaps it’s awe I see traced within the lines around his slight grin. But before I can decipher this expression, he’s reaching a hand toward me.

His knuckles brush mine before I let him interlace our fingers. This is for the people piled on that rocky shore, their prying gazes pinned on us. “It seems you’ll make a fine queen.” The diamond on my finger grows heavy. “It’s as though you were born for this.”

CHAPTER 36Kai

Candlelight flickers down the length of the table, dousing every plate of food in a honeylike glow.

The court sits snugly together to crowd around the feast. They talk idly, drowning in their finery while nibbling at their meal. Dragging a hand through my hair, I catch myself wishing this banquet was a ball, if only so I could slip away unnoticed within the swirling bodies.

Instead, I sit stiffly to Kitt’s right, on display and at his disposal. He seems distracted, green eyes glazed over. I can’t help but notice the slight gauntness of his face or rasping of his voice. He looks worn enough to warrant concern I can’t currently give before his court. It seems the king did not rest, as he promised.

Paedyn shimmers across from me, picking politely at the food on her plate. For a moment, it feels as though we are seated back in time at that dinner before the Purging Trials, the one where I all but forced her to eat. The night she became my weakness.

It’s familiar, this scene. Simple.

Except that it’s not, and the king beside her is not my father.

I’ve spent most of the evening watching Kitt lean over, conversing quietly with his betrothed. Paedyn smiles each time, the action tugging at that scar trailing down her throat. The elegant high neck of the dress she wears conceals the far more vicious one below, though my gaze continually falls to where I know the carving to be.

This should not upset me, their closeness with each other. They are engaged, after all, and speaking civilly is the tamest of actions. But I cannot seem to shake the gnawing envy in my gut, the jealousy that flares with every look shared and word exchanged. It’s tiresome, this turmoil between love for my brother and love for his betrothed.

“You seem to have quite the appetite—just not for your food.”

With a heavy exhale, my eyes flick toward the source of that accusing tone. Beside me, Andy raises a brow, her nose ring flashing like the challenge in her eyes. I give her a tired look. “Just spit it out, Andy.”

Using only the corner of her mouth, she fires back, “Stop staring at what you can’t have.”

I lift a piece of turkey to my mouth. “I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

This voice belongs to the girl beside my cousin, her sheet of black hair swaying as she leans over the table to meet my stare. I don’t know the Crawler well, but I recognize her as Andy’s friend from the ball. Though, with a quick glance beneath the table at their interlaced fingers, it seems safe to assume that their relationship has progressed further.

“See,” Andy says smugly. “Jasmyn is my witness.”

“Yes”—I take a quick sip of champagne—“thank you for your astute observations.”

Andy tucks a strand of wine-red hair behind her ear. “Kai, we talked about this—”

The shrill clinking of glass saves me from my cousin’s wrath. I turn toward Kitt, watching him stand at the head of the table. Scanning theroom, he offers a small smile to his court. “To Paedyn Gray, your future queen. Who successfully showed not only her bravery, but also her benevolence.” He peers down the table distantly. “Onward to her brutality. And long live the Silver Savior.”

When I lift my glass, the entire court is quick to follow. “Long live the Silver Savior,” they mutter in unison, most begrudgingly.

Champagne bubbles against my tongue, warming my throat. My eyes are back on Paedyn, though her own are pinned on something far down the lengthy table. I watch her gaze grow suddenly cold, lethal in a way I know firsthand she can be. Following that look, I scan the many faces decorating the throne room.

And then my eyes stutter over her.

The lilac hair falling over Blair’s shoulders seems to oddly compliment Lenny’s fiery red waves to the left. She sits comfortably in the seat beside her father, arms crossed and lips teasing the Imperial. They look familiar, at ease with each other in a way that is likely making Paedyn’s head spin.

I glance back across the table at her, watching as a sheet of icy anger creeps over her expression. She looks ready to avenge Adena right here and now. Staring at this version of the Silver Savior, I fear for those who make her feel nothing.

No remorse. No compassion. No worry for her stained soul.

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