Page 76 of A Bargain with the Fae King

Oh, my God. The muscles in my arm lock up.

I jerk back, but he holds firm, concealing my disgust with his stiff grip.

He did not. He…

Sigurd drops my hand. His grin twitches into a momentary smirk. “I’ve brought a gift for your lady.”

Another one. A wave of unease washes through me. A muscle ticks in Riven’s jaw. His wide smile falters for the briefest moment. Shit. If they come to blows here in the throne room, it’ll be the end of everything. Their tenuous peace, the search for May—

I cannot let that happen, no matter what.

Sigurd pretends not to notice as he reaches into his pocket and pulls forth a small silver ring affixed with a blue stone. A sapphire, it has to be, cut in a pear shape.

“Human women like jewelry, do they not?” He addresses the question to me, holding up the ring between his thumb and pointer finger. “Consider it a token of my regard. I do hope it fits.”

I stare at his grinning face. Confusion and apprehension freeze my actions and choke off my words. Fae murmur around us, leaning around one another for a better view of the scene playing out before them. Which is worse—taking it or refusing?

I wait for Riven to intervene, to choose for me, but just like at the border, he doesn’t.

Of course not. When I actually want him to act, he doesn’t.

Improve relations with the Court of Air.Solona’s words echo through my mind over the din of conversation around us. My actions will make a difference for both courts.

And for May.

For her, I steel my courage and don a courteous smile.

“Thank you for your generosity.” I extend my hand to him again, accepting the ring.

Sigurd inclines his head as he slides his gift onto my ring finger.

It fits.

Too well.

My hand shakes when he releases it, though maybe less than the smile wobbling on my face.

His gift looks for all the world like a human engagement ring.

Chapter 25

Thecourtyardisdeckedout with trappings of both the magical and tangible variety. Fae balls of light float aimlessly through the air, casting a soft glow on the whole area. They brighten up the darkness of the evening as if the stars themselves have floated down from the heavens to join us. Fountains gurgle. Tables both large and small are arranged around the area for seating. Others are laden with platters of food. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was a celebrity wedding reception.

Or one for royalty.

I swallow the knot in my throat, all too aware of the ring on my finger. Riven doesn’t say a word, not a damn thing, as he leads the procession out here with me on his arm. Actually, he hasn’t really looked at me at all, which says as much about his fury as words ever could.

My stiff smile twitches as I side-eye him—hard. Did he honestly expect me to rebuke a gift from his guest? That wouldn’t have gone well.

Dancers weave through the crowd in scant costumes. They move to the hypnotic rhythm played by a small group of musicians. Though they number only seven, their song has the resonance of a full count orchestra. Something about it stirs my soul, inspiring awe and reverence. Even the air itself is perfumed by flowers at the peak of bloom.

Despite the dread wrapped like a noose around my neck all afternoon and the guilt over May that could drag me down into an open grave, I want nothing more than to wander through the crowd and lose myself to the sights, sounds, and spectacle of it all. Maybe there’s magic at work in that too, something to encourage everyone to relax, enjoy themselves, and forget for a time that they’re not exactly friends.

Our table is near the middle back of the courtyard in a place of honor, widely ringed by open space for both visibility and respect. Fanciful carpets coat the ground. The table itself is draped with green silks and golden flower petals.

I relax considerably once we’re seated. Riven keeps up slow but steady conversation with Sigurd, and I don’t have to do a darn thing but eat. Which might be easier if the food wasn’t so strange.

“Hah, make sure you don’t touch that one.” Ambrose laughs as two small, red vegetables, resembling stuffed baby peppers, are ladled onto my plate. “Too many of those will set your mouth on fire.”

---