Page 41 of Destined for the Fae King

Thinking about my family also reminded me why I’m here: to become the queen, to win the king’s heart and his hand. I wish I could say I feel like it’s going well, but I’m not sure. The king has seemed pleased enough with me in meetings, he liked my dancing, and he did kiss my hand. We haven’t yet shared a more passionate kiss like Bailey alluded to, but the keyword isyet.

Today, we’re attending a party in the gardens, and I intend to use it to my advantage. I refuse to lose out on becoming his queen and disappoint my family simply because I didn’t try hard enough. I won’t let Uncle Matias say I didn’t represent us well or didn’t do enough for him to keep caring for my mother and brothers. It may be an awkward event again with all of us trying to get his attention, but I’m determined to find a way.

When the sun is high in the sky, our guards shift us all to a garden I haven’t been to before. Situated near what must be the edge of the capital city, given the glowing forest that’s visible beyond a high stone wall some distance away, the space puts every botanical garden I’ve ever visited to shame. A wide, grassy oval dominates the middle of the space, large gurgling fountains with dancing water on either end. Beds of roses, sculpted bushes, and more of the court’s famed glass sculptures surround the oval, interspersed with walking paths and spotted with benches. Trellises give bits of shade here and there, and off to one side stretches a hedge maze, the walls too high for anyone to see over. A large tent has been erected in the middle of the oval, tables and chairs spotted underneath.

Fae in fine, flowing clothes of all colors wander the space, most chatting in small groups. A few notice our arrival and openly turn to stare.

“Wow, this is just like my cousin’s wedding last summer,” Katherine replies, wandering ahead of our group into the garden.

“Oh, I’m sure.” Alex rolls her eyes and whispers, just loud enough for Grace and me to hear where we flank her.

Grace covers her laugh. “It does feel like something out of a movie though. ‘Oh, excuse me, Your Majesty, while I spin my parasol.’” She mimics the action and a British accent. “‘I think I dropped my handkerchief.Can you pick it up for me?’”

“Don’t let the king hear that,” Bailey admonishes.

Vasilius must be here somewhere, but I haven’t spied him yet among all the others. Given how expansive the gardens are, the towering hedges, and willow-like trees draping long branches, it’d be easy for him to be obscured from view.

Cora practically elbows past and comes to stand with her hands on her hips, surveying the scene. “It does have a Bridgerton feel to it.”

We all give her a sideways glance.

“What? I watched the show.” She shrugs. “Every season.” And then she turns, her nose in the air, and strides toward the tent like it was erected just for her.

“Do you think that’s where she learned to act like a spoiled rich girl?” Grace whispers, though not too quietly.

“Act?” Alex asks with a laugh. “More like came by it honestly.”

It’s tempting to seek out Vasilius directly, but I’m sure at least half the other women plan to do the exact same thing. I’m better off waiting and chatting with some of the other fae. Actually, the best would be if I could make Vasilius envious and get him to come to me, but that’s probably hoping for too much.

No matter what, I plan to find time to steal him away today. Maybe we’ll slip into the hedge maze, or maybe I can even get him to take me somewhere else where we can be alone. He needs to know that I want to be his queen, and if he’s already sharing real kisses with the others, then I need him to have one with me too, even if I have to initiate. What’s that old song? Something about the truth being in his kiss? Maybe it’ll be the spark we need to get things rolling.

I join a lawn game similar to bocce with a number of the fae in attendance. I’m terrible at it, though they have the courtesy not to mention that. Whether from experience or natural fae grace andskill, these fae can land the little balls exactly where they want them to go, and mine… Well, I’m lucky I haven’t hurt anyone yet.

“It’s your turn, Lady Mira,” one of the males says with a smirk, having just placed his ball within about two centimeters of the target. As if I could beat that. My best bet is to try to knock his away, though at this distance, that’s going to be a challenge and he knows it.

“Well, I’ll just have to give it my best then.” I give a little laugh and flash a blinding smile. Trying to be social with people I don’t know is its own kind of hell, but hey, I’m trying. The little flute of fae wine I sipped earlier helps too. I’m not above liquid courage, especially where crowds are involved.

I step up to the line and look over one shoulder to where Vasilius was a moment ago, hoping to snag his attention. My fake smile slips away.Drat.I have no idea where he went off to.

“Mind if I join the next round?” says an unexpected voice.

I whirl toward it, my heart giving a fervent thump against my ribs. Lysandir meanders through the nearby fae, the sunlight catching on his long hair, which he’s left unbound to fall around his shoulders. The outfit he’s chosen for today is very similar to the one his brother wore the day before with a loose, white tunic whose sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and a slit at the top that shows off a hint of tanned chest more sculpted than I anticipated. Not that I thought him unfit, not by any means, but he’s less obvious about it than his brother. More the scholar than the fighter, but damn… All I can do is blink. He’s not the royal I was searching for, but my mind trips over itself in his presence anyway, rending me momentarily speechless.

The nearby fae I’ve been playing with titter with excitement.

“We’d love to have you join, my prince,” one female replies, her eyes practically sparkling with mirth.

“Well, Lady Mira?” His nose twitches, humor lighting in his features like he knows exactly what his sudden appearance has done to me.

“Of course,” I reply with a nervous laugh. “I’m about to lose this round anyway.”

I turn and toss my ball toward the target, completely forgetting that I was going to knock my opponents out of the way. It lands an embarrassing three feet away.

“See?” I gesture toward it. “My team lost, so now we can start again.”

“Hmm.” He grips his chin, his thumb underneath while the knuckle of his pointer finger runs across his lips in a way that’s utterly distracting. “Can I be on your team for this round?”

I laugh. “So eager to lose?”

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