Page 41 of Crown of Roses
“Right.” Annoyed, she rolled her eyes. “Let’s get to dinner, then.”
She headed to the right, without having a clue as to where she was going, but was grateful when he followed along. Yay, progress.
Maeve started walking down the bright hall, and she let her fingers glide against the smooth, marble stone of the walls. They were the softest shade of blush, with veins of gold and turquoise climbing throughout. The entire palace was mesmerizing. It was a wondrous maze of open-air corridors, secret passages, and moonlit escapes. She turned another corner, stole a glance over her shoulder to a door that was cracked open, and came to a halt.
The fae collided into her and grunted before trying to regain his bearing.
She peeked into the room and carefully nudged the door open a little more. Inside was a library, and not just any library, but a glorious room complete with lofty shelves filled with hundreds, if not thousands, of books. A ladder stretched up a to balcony where even more books were displayed. The ceiling was a mural of some kind, with elaborate paintings and dazzling colors that seemed to shift and move, much like Aran’s maps. It was a decadent, beautiful tribute to the written word as far as the eye could see.
Her heart leapt to her throat and she stepped inside, only to be hauled back by her shoulder. The fae kept his grip firm and steered her toward the corridor.
“Can I just look around a little bit? It’s a library. A wonderful library.” Maeve looked up at him, but his features remained cold. “I’m sure no one will mind.”
Nothing.
“Please?”
More silence.
“Fucking fae,” Maeve muttered, and stormed down the corridor.
Eventually, they arrived at the dining hall. Except, it wasn’t really a dining hall at all. It was nothing like the showy and pretentious room where her mother hosted lavish parties and extravagant dinners. This was instead a much smaller, more intimate outdoor space. There were a few tables set up on a balcony, and she realized they were close enough to the water to hear the call of the sea. A group of fae musicians were situated in the corner, playing a low and moody kind of music, and everyone else was already there.
Ceridwen was to Tiernan’s left, and seated next to her was Rowan. Opposite of Rowan was Saoirse, and beside her was Casimir. The fae with the hot pink hair, Merrick, lounged against the railing, talking with the female from earlier. They all looked up as she walked out onto the balcony. She didn’t miss the way their gazes lingered, or how she was drastically overdressed for the occasion. Even Saoirse’s mouth fell open.
“How kind of you to join us,” Tiernan drawled from his seat at the head of the table. Maeve tried to ignore the way his gaze swept over her, the way the corner of his mouth quirked with purpose. “Lir, what took so long?”
Ah, so the fae who escorted her had a name after all.
Lir grunted. “The princess was distracted by the library.”
“Oh, sure. Now you want to talk.” Sarcasm dripped from Maeve’s tone and Tiernan’s brows shot up. She supposed it would do her good to not piss off a fae, more notably one of notorious power, but she found herself agitated at her current situation. She was being treated like a child; being told what to wear, where to be, what time to be there. She was constantly being underestimated, even by Casimir. To top it all, she had a damn babysitter.
So, she didn’t really care much if she infuriated a fae. She would earn, if not demand, their respect.
Tiernan stood and pulled out her chair for her. Slowly, she lowered herself into the only available seat at the table. The one directly next to him. All the males stood until she sat down.
“The library?” Amusement sparked in Tiernan’s eyes and he leaned toward her. She had the decency to lean back. “I didn’t know you could read.”
Maeve’s smile was pinched. “And I didn’t know you were an arrogant prick.” She spread her hands out before her. “Yet, here we are.”
Someone coughed. Someone else snorted. And she was fairly certain at least one of them choked.
“I like you,” Tiernan mused, drinking her in. Her skin crawled against his assessment. “But that smart little mouth of yours will get you in trouble.”
“Perhaps.” She summoned every ounce of boldness within her and turned away from the High King, refusing to acknowledge him or his comment. Instead she faced Saoirse, who was gratefully seated on her other side. She glanced over at her best friend. “Were you escorted here, too?”
Saoirse nodded. “We all were. Well, everyone except Rowan. He came in by himself.” She pointed to the female fae, who looked to be far friendlier than Lir. “That’s mine over there.”
She was tall with killer thighs, and her muscled arms put Maeve’s toned ones to shame. Bouncy, burgundy curls framed her heart-shaped face, and a smattering of freckles dusted her cheeks and nose. When she caught Maeve looking, she winked.
Maeve ducked her head. “Did she at least say anything to you?”
Saoirse touched the blue lily tucked behind her ear. “Her name is Brynn, and she likes my flower.”
Maeve’s brow furrowed as she took in her friend’s attire. “You didn’t have to wear a dress?”
Saoirse was in fitted black leather pants and wore a cropped blouse of gray satin. Studded chains fell from her shoulders and glossy black ribbons bound her hair into a silver braid. Saoirse touched one of the sharp studs with the tip of her finger. “I was a little more explicit in my demands.”
