Page 122 of Crown of Storm and Silence
As if summoned by her words, Emir appears at our side, his formal uniform doing nothing to hide the weapons concealed beneath his dress sword.
"My lord, my lady," he greets us. "Initial security sweeps are complete. No immediate threats detected, though several guests are carrying more magical implements than strictly necessary for a social gathering."
"Expected," Kaan replies. "Any sign of our particular problem?"
"Lord Zohan arrived twenty minutes ago and has positioned himself near the eastern balcony with clear sight lines to both exits," Emir reports. "He's been observing the crowd with considerable interest, particularly the Light Court delegation."
"Watching for his handlers?" I ask, though the words taste bitter.
"Or planning his next report," Emir suggests diplomatically.
Before we can discuss strategy further, a ripple of unease moves through the crowd near the main entrance. Conversations pause, glasses lower, and several shadow lords shift position with the subtle alertness that suggests potential threat.
Mikail glides into the hall with otherworldly grace, his pale perfection drawing attention like a magnet. He's dressed in midnight formal wear that makes his crimson eyes seem to glow with inner fire, and when he moves, shadows don't just follow—they defer. Several guests step back unconsciously, their instincts recognizing something far more dangerous than social protocol usually accommodates.
"Oh,wonderful," Banu says, her voice sharp with familiar venom. "Look who decided to grace us with his presence—the philosophical nightmare who thinks pinning women against trees counts as charming conversation. Tell me, Mikail, didyou bring your collection of pretty speeches about 'harmonious arrangements,' or are you saving those for your next assault?"
Her pale lavender eyes flash with genuine anger, and I can see her hands subtly positioning near the hidden blades she always carries. The fairy dust shimmering faintly around her fingertips suggests she's preparing for a fight.
Elçin's hand moves to her weapon with practiced subtlety, her body language shifting to combat readiness. "Ancient vampire, uninvited to a celebration..." She studies Mikail's approach with calculating eyes, clearly noting Banu's hostile reaction. "Either he brings urgent news that couldn't wait for proper channels, or we're about to discover tonight's entertainment has shifted from political maneuvering to supernatural crisis management."
"Crisis management seems more likely," I murmur, noting the way several demons have begun to position themselves strategically around the hall.
"Actually," Kaan says, though his voice carries an edge of wariness, "I did send word to him. Given his... assistance during your rescue from the Obur, I thought he might have relevant information about the prophecy's manifestation. Though I expected him to use more conventional entrances and, ideally, speak in actual sentences instead of cryptic poetry. Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer my dire warnings to come with fewer metaphors and more specifics."
I stare at my husband. "You invited the vampire who attacked Banu?"
"The same vampire who helped track down your kidnappers and participated in their rather creative destruction," Kaan replies with dark amusement. "Mikail's methods may be questionable, but his information network is unparalleled."
Banu snorts. "Oh wonderful, we're trusting the vampire who thinks 'assault first, ask questions later' is a valid networkingstrategy. What's next, hiring the Obur as wedding planners? I'm sure they'd have fascinating ideas about blood-red decorations."
Mikail approaches our group with that prowling elegance that makes smart people reassess their evening plans. When he reaches us, he offers a bow that manages to be both respectful and somehow mocking.
"Lord Kaan, Lady Nesilhan," he says, his voice carrying that musical quality that makes mortals forget their own names. "As lovely as ever, though I see the little one grows stronger daily. The magical resonances have intensified since our last conversation—quite fascinating developments, really."
His crimson gaze flicks to Banu with what might be amusement. "And dear Banu, still so spirited. I trust you've recovered from our woodland encounter? You seemed rather... receptive at the time."
"Receptive to your magical compulsion, you mean?" Banu's voice could freeze hellfire. "How brave of you to use vampire glamour on someone a quarter your size. Really showcased those centuries of experience in creative cowardice."
Elçin steps slightly closer to my other side, creating a protective triangle. Her voice carries the cool authority of someone who's dealt with dangerous predators before. "Attention from whom, specifically? Your sudden appearance suggests more than social courtesy brought you here tonight."
"The kind that stirs when prophecies begin to manifest," Mikail replies, his attention shifting away from Banu's barbs. "Ancient powers take notice when light and shadow create life. Some find it... inspiring. Others see it as an abomination that must be corrected."
His crimson gaze shifts to my belly with disturbing intensity. "The child carries such interesting resonances. Light magic, shadow magic, and something else entirely. Something that hasn't walked the realms for over a millennium."
"What kind of attention?" Kaan asks sharply, his shadows beginning to coil with agitation.
"The kind that sent three separate assassination attempts to your borders this week," Mikail says with deliberate casualness. "The kind that has the Neutral Courts whispering about ancient contracts and forgotten oaths. The kind that makes old enemies remember why they once feared the union of light and shadow."
A chill runs through me that has nothing to do with the evening air. "Three attempts?"
"Intercepted and dealt with," Kaan says grimly. "I didn't want to worry you during the celebration."
Banu snorts. "Right, because keeping your pregnant wife in the dark about people trying to kill her is such sound strategy. What's next, not telling her if the castle's on fire because it might disturb her digestion?"
"The little fairy speaks wisdom wrapped in thorns," Mikail observes. "Though perhaps she should concern herself more with the shadows gathering around her own ankles. Such interesting magic signatures you carry these days, Banu. Almost as if you've been... practicing things you shouldn't know."
Through our bond, I feel Kaan's protective fury spike, his shadows beginning to coil restlessly around his feet. "If you're threatening?—"
