Page 60 of The Shadow Path

Page List

Font Size:

They entered Harold’s grand hall, and the musicians were already playing, pink-red wine passed by them in blown glass goblets, and the hall was lit with red and white illumination supplied by dancing air sprites fluttering silver-tipped wings.

Above their heads, candles floated among the zipping fairies, and the scent of roasted meat and spices wafted through the air.

Carys breathed out a sigh of pleasure. There were a dozen social and royal traps she might fall into that night, but for a moment, just a quick moment, she wanted to enjoy the magic of the evening.

The newly crowned king sat at the head table with his guests of honor joining him. Harold was a plain man in person, but the crown and the robes did a lot to make him more impressive.

Next to Harold, Carys saw Lachlan and the silver-haired woman, both in royal-blue tunics. Dafydd and her cousin Anwynwere seated next to Lachlan in intricately sewn leather armor and verdant-green robes.

On Harold’s other side, the fae and Éiren nobles completed the head table, Orla’s cool beauty glowing like moonlight while Cian’s face appeared lit by an invisible sun.

Immediately in front of the head table, a crowd of gold-clad musicians played before the king and his guests while fae, humans, and unicorns danced in circles under the lights.

Soldiers in bright red with white trim ringed the hall, staring at the revelers with faces frozen in ceremonial rigor.

But despite their solemn presence, bursts of laughter punctuated the feast, and even the solemn-faced wolves in their grey-and-silver uniforms appeared to be having fun.

Floating overhead and through the room were golden ribbons of magic that wound between the candles and zipped around the silver sprites.

“Oh my God,” Laura breathed out. “This is so much magic.”

Even Duncan was impressed. “In all my years visiting the Shadowlands, I’ve never seen the like.”

No one could mistake Harold’s coronation party for anything but a massive show of sovereignty, wealth, and supernatural power.

Oblivious to the revelers, Cadell continued his lecture in Carys’s mind.If you’re ever in a tricky situation when it comes to dancing, tell your prospective partner your next dance has been promised to either your cousin Dylan or me.

Cadell was an obvious if reluctant choice, but her cousin? “Why Dylan?”I’m pretty sure that Dylan hates me.

Your cousins may not like your presence here, but they were both raised to think of the Cymric throne above their own self-interest.“Dylan never dances,” Cadell said aloud. “So he’ll always be available. He’s also smart. If you walk up to him and say you’re ready for a promised dance, he will not blink.”

Sounds like someone who might be suitable as a king.

“Hmm.” The dragon made a rumbling sound at the base of his throat.

That’s your “I have thoughts but I’m not sharing them” sound.

Now is not the time.

They got caught in the crowd, and Carys looked back at Laura. “I’m getting the rundown of coronation protocol from the tall one.”

Laura grimaced. “Does anyone think to—I don’t know—have this talk with you a couple of daysbeforethe super-important event instead of right as you’re walking in?”

“This is what I’m saying,” Carys said to Cadell. “No preparation time.”

Cadell pursed his lips and said nothing.

“Useless,” Duncan said.

Carys raised her eyebrows. “Preparation is useless?”

“You’d forget half of it because your brain wouldn’t be focused by panic,” Duncan said as his green eyes scanned the crowd. “Then the dragon would have to remind you right before the event anyway.”

Carys glared at him. “I don’t need you to be correct and insulting at the same time.”

Duncan shrugged one massive shoulder. “Am I wrong?”

“Maybe,” she muttered. “Where’s the food?”