Page 77 of Throne of Dreams
Imogen fiddled with the measuring tape dangling from her hip. “Have you changed your mind about a gown for the party tomorrow night?”
“As a matter of fact, I have.” Maeve slowly took in the shop and her gaze trailed over the racks of colorful gowns in varying fabrics. Delicate silks and shimmering satins hung from glittering hangers. Rows of eye-catching lace and flowing chiffon billowed from different displays.
“Did you have anything in mind?” Imogen asked, inclining her head toward the multitude of dresses.
“Yes.” Maeve turned and focused on the spritely fae. She lifted her chin and the corner of her mouth curved upward. “I need a gown that will bring the High King to his knees.”
Imogen’s smile widened and a wicked gleam sparked in her eyes. Her nose crinkled. “I thought you’d never ask.”
* * *
After Imogen tookMaeve’s measurements and came up with a rough design that was nothing short of devastating, Maeve and Lir left the shop and returned to the city’s cobblestone paths. Niahvess was vibrant, alive with laughter and a fizzing energy, as it seemed everyone was readying for Tiernan and Ceridwen’s birthday.
Maeve was considering going to the beach to train and avoiding the palace at all costs when a distinctive tug pulled on her magic. She looked around but saw nothing out of the ordinary. She scanned her surroundings, checking behind them. No one was following them. There were no signs of a threat, and except for an occasional smile and wave, no one seemed to pay them any attention. She shrugged off the strange sensation and continued walking, but as they neared the final bridge leading to the pathway back to the palace, the draw calling to her was stronger. More insistent.
She stumbled to a stop, and Lir almost collided with her.
“Sorry,” she mumbled and stole another glance over her shoulder. “Something is just…”
“Something is what, my lady?” he prompted, his silver eyes instantly scanning the skies and canals.
“Just off,” she finished weakly. She didn’t know how to describe it, this puzzling awareness wanting to lure her to something or someone.
They crossed the footbridge to where the cobblestone paths from the three different parts of the city met. The other day, when she’d come to Niahvess with Tiernan and Ceridwen, Tiernan had gone down the one on the far right, while she and Ceridwen had taken the one to the left.
It was the path on the right that caused her magic to hum.
“I think I want to go this way.” She pointed to the part of the city where the sunlight didn’t quite hit, where shadows darkened the streets, despite there being no clouds in the sky.
“I’m afraid I have to advise against that, my lady.” Lir’s brow was drawn as he looked in the same direction. “You have no need to associate with those types of dealings. The Shadow District is no place for a High Princess.”
Her curiosity was instantly piqued. Lir was warding her away from that section of the city, but Tiernan had gone there for an appointment. “Is it unsafe?”
“Not unsafe, no.” A breeze swept over them, almost through them. It was cooler now and his dark twists of hair fell in his face. He shoved them back. “Fae only go to the Shadow District when…when they need particular types of magic. Charms and bindings. Lifting curses, breaking vows, things of that nature.”
The sort of magic no one liked to talk about, but that everyone knew existed.
Maeve’s gaze slid to the area of Niahvess that didn’t shine as brightly as the rest, the area where the wind carried the hushed whispers of dark secrets, where the buildings stood witness to any number of clandestine deals. Where she hoped to find the one thing she sought more than anything else.
She leaned in close to Lir. “What about a memory keeper?”
He bristled. “No.”
“No, I can’t find one there? Or no, you don’t want me looking for one?”
“Both.”
“That’s not fair.”
“I don’t know what business you seek with a memory keeper, High Princess. And it’s not my place to ask. But if you go in search of one, I will report it to the High King.” His voice was firm and final. She had no doubt he’d hold true to his word. But then he added, softer, “Memory keepers are dangerous, my lady. No one associates with them, and for good reason.”
She appreciated his concern for her well-being, but she wouldn’t let a few words of foreboding discourage her. “The High King already knows. We’ve talked about it.”
He crossed his arms over his broad chest, ever the fierce protector. “I still won’t let you go.”
Indignation tingled through her. “And why not?”
“Because if you enter into any sort of unsavory accord, Tiernan will take my head.” His scowl deepened, daring her to contradict him.
