Page 46 of Curse of Thorns
Rev
Caelynn is white asa ghost when I approach her. “Are you okay?” I ask softly.
“Fine,” she whispers.
Her dress is a lovely cyan, draped gently over her body. My eyes drop to the drink in her hand. A light red wine with sparkles and pops. My eyes narrow as a memory plagues me.
A lovely young fae in a black dress and masquerade mask, unsure what to drink at a Luminescent Court ball. I’d suggested this very drink.
“What?” she asks.
“Nothing.” It doesn’t much matter. I thought that girl was my mate, and then I’d lost her.
And it was true. I was right all along.
Now, I’ve met her. I know her. And she’s not lacking in anything, except for what she’s done. Except that there is no hope for us.
“How do you like the wine?” I ask casually.
“It’s good. I’ve never been much for wine actually.”
“More of a tonic lady?”
She smiles, and it tugs on my heart.
“You saw that, huh?”
I see everything, I think but don’t dare say it. Someday soon Caelynn will be gone. She’ll be only a memory. I grab a glass of Callaway wine to match hers. I’d like some things to remind me of her forever. Good things I can hold on to. This wine will be one.
I hold out the glass to her, and she cautiously connects hers with mine in a soft ding.
“To memories,” I say.
Her eyebrows pull down in confusion. “What memories?”
I swallow. “This one. When this is all over, I want to have a few things I won’t ever forget.”
Her face falls slack, amazement, and incredulity and a soft sadness covers her. It’s uncharacteristically innocent actually. I want to memorize that too.
Anything but the image of her sadness inside that carriage. The emptiness of her march through the crowd after I’d abandoned her.
“Something they can’t take away,” I say.
“Something we ourselves can’t ruin. It will live forever.”
“Now, you get the idea.” I smile. “So, tell me, what about this night do you want to remember?”
Her cheeks grow red, and she looks to the floor, but she recovers quickly. “Honestly, I’m just shocked to be here. At the High Court... It’s amazing.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“I find myself looking for every aspect of my court I can find,” she says, eyes darting around eagerly. “The ceiling, of course, but there’s a portrait in the corner of the very first Shadow Court High King. And I’m sure I’m missing more.”
I smile, watching her expression. I love her wonder. How her eyes lighten.
“It’s just so ironic.”
I frown. “What’s ironic?”
