Page 164 of Mother of Death and Dawn

“It—?”

He stood so abruptly that he nearly knocked over his chair, eyes bright and furious. The change in him was startling. “Your human queen tortured my son, and she did the same to my sister. She turned her into a monster. I foughtmy own sisterin Niraja. The Aran queen deserves death for what she has done.”

Gone was the elegant, calm Fey who seemed like he might as well be made from marble. This was the face of someone out for blood.

I almost said,You sound like your king.

A wrinkle of pity deepened between Tisaanah’s brows. “I’m so sorry, Ishqa,” she murmured. “I didn’t know…”

Ishqa drew in a deep breath, then let it out again as he struggled to collect himself.

“I understand you,” Brayan said quietly. “Trust me, when I confronted the people who killed my sisters…” He shook his head, once, a sharp movement that said more than words could. I had to look away, suddenly nauseous.

“You are not the only one who wants her gone,” Tisaanah added. “And she will be. I promise you.”

Ishqa sank back into his chair. “I know. I—I apologize.” He folded his hands carefully over the table, his eyes downcast. Then he let out a rough, humorless laugh, a sound so odd it struck me off guard. I had never heard him laugh before.

Sammerin, Brayan, Tisaanah, and I exchanged awkward glances.

“It is just… sometimes, I understand him,” Ishqa said, shaking his head. “Caduan. I despise what he is doing in the name of his vengeance. I despise what he is doing the world, to all of us. But I understand him. At times, that seems like cruelest part of this of all. We all feel the same things, and we will still die trying to kill each other for it.”

CHAPTERSIXTY-TWO

AEFE

In the aftermath of death, everyone was only more eager to celebrate life.

When the feast began, wine glasses were emptied in seconds. The music was so loud it vibrated in our bones, great cacophonous sounds that seemed at first like they didn’t belong together, but soon became inseparable. Long tables were brought out, so many that they were forced wherever they would fit—not only on the stone patio of the palace, where Caduan sat at the head of a massive table that must have dined fifty, but also throughout the streets, wobbling legs on uneven cobblestones steadied with whatever people had on hand.

There was food everywhere, and more platters brought out before the current ones even began to be exhausted. The table became a painting of colors—the deep bronze of roasted meat, the bright red of berries, the purples of root vegetables, the white of cream cakes, the cream of great bowls of sauces or soups.

Meajqa and Luia quickly entertained themselves with others. I sat between them, close enough that their elbows jabbed me with every one of their gesticulations, but feeling very alone.

I glanced up to the head of the table at Caduan, who looked deeply engaged in whatever Vythian was talking to him about. He met my stare and gave me the faintest ghost of a smile before looking away.

The night quickly turned to joyful euphoria. The music grew louder, more frenetic—the guests grew more drunk and affectionate. Plates of food were abandoned for dance floors, where Fey reveled in the movements of each other’s bodies. All those impeccable outfits devolved into sloppy streaks of color. Couples, or more than couples, fell all over each other, delighting in unraveling each other’s clothing.

I watched this in fascination. This sort of pleasure was oddly foreign to me, like a mathematical equation I had yet to decode.

Meajqa was suddenly beside me, caressing the bare skin of my shoulders. If his misstep at the ceremony still bothered him, he hadn’t shown it—he had joined the festivities with seemingly carefree enthusiasm.

“Dance with me, Aefe,” he purred in my ear, words slightly slurred. “We both look too good not to.”

“I do not know how.”

“It’s alright. I’ll teach you.” His fingers trailed my arm, making goosebumps rise to the surface. “Or we could skip the dancing part.”

I frowned, confused. I did not know what that meant.

He took a seat beside me. “Would you like to be alone, Aefe? Find a little pleasure together?” he said quietly. He smiled, but this time, it struck me as a sad expression. “Maybe us broken things need to stay together.”

The realization hit me—sex. He was talking about sex.

I considered it. Meajqa was a handsome man. And perhaps he was right. We were both broken. Perhaps there would be no better person to show all my ragged edges to.

But it didn’t seem… right. So I shook my head and said, “No, Meajqa.”

Meajqa gave me a wry shrug. “I had to ask.” He stood, kissed me on the cheek—so unexpected it made me jump—and was off again to the dance floor, a bright smile lighting up his face as if our solemn moment had never happened.

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