Page 77 of A Bargain with the Fae King

I grimace at the new addition. He might be serious.

Nothing ever seems to dampen Ambrose’s jovial spirit. Even the grim events of yesterday hadn’t kept him down long. I poke at the food with my fork, rolling two purple beans back and forth. Wasting food sucks, but the magic clinging to my skin makes even the most appetizing selections taste like sand.

“Strange how active the Unseelie have been lately.” Sigurd’s words catch my attention where none of the earlier conversation has.

“It is,” Riven agrees. “They’ve gotten much bolder in their attempts to regain power, and something must be working. I didn’t know they still possessed the skills to shift, much less in my own territory.”

Sigurd makes a sound that could almost be a snort. “Even I didn’t know your wards were so weak that you would have missed such a significant trespass.”

“I was”—Riven twirls his hand through the air—“distracted.”

Sigurd’s next words are muffled as Ambrose lets out a loud guffaw to my left, completely engrossed in conversation with another advisor.

“We may need to do something about the Wild Tribes soon.” Riven shrugs, as if that’s a small problem as opposed to the realm-threatening one he describes. Whatever magic holds their words to truth clearly doesn’t do the same to their actions, and Riven takes it to its full advantage.

“We?” Sigurd questions. He’s blocked from view, but I can envision the raised eyebrows and mock surprise.

Riven laughs. “Unless you’ve decided to join the Unseelie.”

“No one changes that much.”

Both grow silent. Riven takes a sip of wine, leaning back in his chair.

Sigurd enters the corner of my vision, precisely spearing a piece of food and bringing it to his mouth. His table manners, unsurprisingly, are impeccable. He glances over at me as he swallows. I’ve stopped playing with mine, making it all too obvious I’ve been listening in. Not that they’re speaking anymore.

Riven beams with pride as he turns to me. His hand strokes the top of my thigh under the table.

I bite my bottom lip, pretending to be embarrassed. It’s not hard. Every touch stirs up the butterflies in my stomach and has me aching with memories of the night before.

Sigurd coughs and takes a sip of his wine. “I have some men in the Shadow Lands.”

Riven twists back to him so fast his hand bumps the table, sending dishes clattering.

Fae can’t lie. Why share such valuable information? I edge to the side of my seat, straining to listen in to their conversation.

“The Wild Tribes, as you like to call them, have been organizing and gathering together. The Unseelie who took the girl is one of their leaders. Katiya, I believe they call her. My guards have been able to find out little else thus far, but I expect they will be able to learn more with time.”

An olive branch? Goosebumps race up my arms. If he’s truly trying to atone for his past sins and forge a better relationship, it could mean so much to all the fae.

“My guards have had similar findings,” Riven replies. “Someone organizing the tribes, bringing them together.”

A pair of performers step into the open space before our table and bow deeply. Riven gives them leave to proceed. Conversation dwindles as various fae perform acts of agility, skill, speed, and other talents.

Riven explains each act to me. Respect glitters in his eyes. Praise rings in his voice. He’s proud of his people. He loves them.

An unexpected warmth settles in my chest. It’s not lust or desire, though I’ve felt those often enough recently. It’s not even the wine I’ve been slowly sipping.

Something else. Something that scares me as much as it excites me.

I jump in my seat as someone touches my shoulder. Solona’s pleasant face smiles down at me, where she stands just behind me. The long sleeve of her golden gown cascades down the back of my chair.

“Shall we take a walk, dear?” Her tone reminds me so much of Elise. Soft, comforting.

“Yes, I’d…” I’d love to. That’s what I want to say. Sitting here with a fake smile plastered across my face is agonizing. But it wouldn’t fit the ruse I play. My gaze turns to focus on Riven.

Pretend like you’re in love. Like you don’t want to leave him,I coach myself as I school my features.

“You should go with Solona.” Riven breaks off the conversation with a fae male who’d stepped up to the table. “I’ll come for you shortly.”

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