Page 111 of The Robin on the Oak Throne

One glance in the mirror and Kierse saw a Fae in truth and not the girl who hid behind the glamour. Since the costume theme wasA Midsummer Night’s Dream, Graves had insisted that she lean into her faerie heritage. Her pointed ears were on display in an elaborate updo. Her skin was highlighted in a shimmery gold that made her almost glow. And her eyes accented until the deep depths of brown looked like liquid pools surrounded by smoke. Her lips were dyed a deep, dark maroon, the color of spilled wine and heartbreak. A gold circlet of vines crowned her head.

Isolde had hung her dress up in the walk-in closet for display. A pair of sky-high heels with red soles were set out next to it.

“Subtle.”

“Subtlety isn’t his style,” Gen observed.

“It’s going to look stunning,” Isolde promised.

“I can’twaitfor him to see it.” Gen bit her lip. “Especially considering what I walked in on the other day…”

Kierse elbowed her. “Are you suggesting he’d prefer it on the floor?”

Isolde laughed. “Every man is going to prefer that on the floor.”

“And woman,” Kierse added. She winked at them. “If I’m lucky.”

She slid the fabric over her body and shivered as it graced her skin. She stepped into the fabulous gold strappy heels to complete the look. “Let’s see what he thinks.”

Butterflies fluttered through her stomach as she descended the stairs toward the first floor. At the bottom of the staircase stood Graves. She had been so concerned with what he would think of her dress, she hadn’t considered that he would also be out of his customary suit and tie.

Instead, he was dressed in fitted black pants in a hue that seemed to suck up the shadows and dark riding boots. His chest was covered in a supple black leather with matte black dragon scales etched into the fabric. Thick, crisscrossed gold metalwork had been added to the chest plate and extended out across his shoulders as if golden metal branches were reaching out from his chest. His sleeves were made of the same black leather with hints of the gold underpinning the scale effect. A gold crown that mirrored the branches on his chest adorned his brow, threading through his midnight-blue hair. He looked every inch the dark faerie king, and she his queen.

“I didn’t think you’d dress up,” she teased to keep from falling to her knees at his feet.

His head lifted at her voice, and he stilled as if all the air had been sucked out of the room.

His eyes dragged down her frame, from the crown atop her head to her bare neck to the scandalous dress, which suddenly made so much more sense. The sheer material molded to her body, revealing every inch of her from collarbone to high-heel-clad feet. Handsewn onto the plunging neckline were branches made from a gold overlay that shimmered as it discreetly climbed its way from thelong, trailing skirt up her center and across her chest. The branches came together at the top of the garment to make one strap that looped around her neck, leaving her entire back open. And every inch of her exposed skin had a soft, golden shine.

“Come here,” he said, holding a hand out.

She took the remaining steps down and set her hand in his. She was still a head shorter than him even in the heels. Her head tipped back as he drew her to him.

“My wren.” His eyes dipped to her mouth. “You are a vision.”

She swallowed, running a finger down the gold branch that led to his chest. “You look like you’re ready for mischief.”

“With you? Yes,” he said, slipping an arm around her waist and drawing her closer. “With the party? It’s the wrong M-word.”

She laughed despite herself. “Now, now, no murdering anyone. We don’t want to break the Monster Treaty.”

“Don’t we?” he teased.

“Stealing is okay. Murder only under duress.”

His lips quirked in appreciation. “Your morals are astounding.”

“At least I have some.”

He tipped his head to the side. “Morals get in the way of a good time.”

Kierse couldn’t help but laugh. She knew who she worked for—Graves was the villain of everyone else’s story. The monster prowling through nightmares. At some point he’d embraced that fact. And while she knew him to be so much more, she wondered what exactly had gone so wrongthat had convinced him of it.

“We shouldn’t keep George waiting,” Graves said, pressing the button for the elevator. They were swept down to his basement garage. Kierse’s eyes lingered briefly on the closed and sealed door that held the spear, wishing for a moment that she could bring it with her.

George had the back door to the limo open and waiting. Graves got in first because there was no way to slide across the seat in this dress. She gathered her train and took a careful seat. Graves’s eyes were fastened on her as they came out of the tunnel and into the city beyond.

During the war, there hadn’t been any traffic at all after the sun went down. It wasn’t safe to be out, even in a car. Now, they merged into a row of cars. Kierse could see lights still on in office buildings as they passed through the city. A few people were even walking together down well-lit streets.

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