Page 165 of A Tongue so Sweet and Deadly

Her brows snapped together as she stared at the beautiful package on the desk Merrick gestured toward. It was wrapped in silky paper, and as she cautiously removed it, her mouth fell open.

It was a dress.

The material was pure gold, shimmering slightly in the gentle winter light. The dress had a boned bodice with darker gold bands holding it together, and the skirt was layered so that it would fall beautifully from her waist.

But her shoulders slumped when she realized there was no way she could wear it.

The flowy sleeves were capped in the latest fashion to show off her arms.

Lessia draped it over the chair, swallowing against the thickness clogging her throat.

“I thought this might happen,” Merrick muttered. “One second.”

Her eyes followed him as he stalked into his room. A moment later, Merrick emerged with another package, this one much smaller and wrapped in brown paper.

He ungraciously threw it to her. “Here you go.”

Tearing it open, she pulled out silky white fabric.

“Merrick…” she breathed.

It was gloves that would reach far beyond where her tattoo stretched up her arm.

“Thank you,” she got out as more tightness constrictedher throat.

Merrick only grumbled as he turned his back to her. “Now get dressed so we can go down. I have some business with the Fae.”

Despite the beautiful dress and the unexpected thoughtfulness from Merrick, dread once again whirled in her stomach.

As she slipped it on, lacing up the bodice and fluffing the skirts, then pulling on the gloves, she asked quietly, “Who is here?”

Merrick’s shoulders tensed. “No one you will know. A few Fae nobles and emissaries. And King Rioner’s brother.”

Her hand froze midair with the brush she’d planned to use to tame her hair. “Which brother?”

“Alarin.”

The brush clattered to the floor as black spots danced before her eyes.

No, no, no.

This couldn’t be happening.

Not with everything else that was going on.

It was too much.

“I can’t. I can’t. I can’t,” she whispered as devastated amber eyes etched into her mind.

Lessia crouched down with her hands over her face as if the darkness could purge the memory, and it wasn’t the bodice she’d laced up that constricted her breathing.

“Lessia.” Merrick’s hand landed on her shoulder. “What is it?”

She lifted her head, for the first time wishing she could meet his eyes so he could read her, not so she could send him away.

But while his brows pulled, Merrick’s gaze remained averted as he gently dragged her upright.

“What happened?” he asked again, his hand remaining on her shoulder as her body racked with shudders.

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