Page 35 of The Princess of Nothing
I forced a watery smile. “Who will I be meeting this evening?”
“King Xenos.” He held himself up with excellent posture while we glided across the marble floors to open, white double doors. They looked like they were made from pearls, but I knew it was just an effect. “My half-sister, Neoma, the chancellor, Forman, and many other dignitaries, as well as the fae king and queen.”
I reined the sarcasm from my tone. “Quite the night.”
He looked down at me, and his smile faltered. “You look beautiful, if I didn’t say so already.”
“You didn’t,” I snapped, then mentally kicked myself for my snark. I was trying to win him over. “I mean, thank you.”
“You don’t need to do that. You’re allowed to be yourself.”
I knew he didn’t really want that, but I nodded all the same. Men often spewed such lines when they really meant they wanted me to be myself so long as it coincided with the picture they’d painted in their heads.
Kiros led me into the ballroom. The ceiling was hundreds of feet high, painted with scenes of yellows and golds. Beams met at the center where a black chandelier hung, sparkling lights onto the walls around us. Gold banners ran down the back wall, swaying as people danced near them.
Tables of food lined the walls. Crystal platters, silver trays, and glass domes held the most curious-looking desserts I’d ever seen. I peered at one—a red cake with a mousse-like substance on top, surrounded with strawberries and purple flecks. Another, next to it, was made from red gelatin, with a green paste swirling upward to a point. I spotted some pastries, pink tarts with yellow centers. They looked ordinary enough. I eyed them for later.
“Your Majesty. I’m honored to introduce you to Winter Mortis.”
My hands were shaking. I hadn’t expected to see Xenos so soon. His eyes were pointed, and his irises were spotted in yellow and brown. A dark-brown goatee softened his diamond-shaped face. He was tall and thin but not muscular like his son. His hair, thick and brown, waved around his heavy gold crown, embedded with sapphires.
He leaned in and kissed me on both cheeks.
I flinched, but luckily, he either didn’t notice or react.
“It’s a pleasure.”
I could have laughed. We all knew I’d been tortured recently, yet here we were, exchanging pleasantries.
“King Xenos, I see where your son gets his charm and looks from.” I fluttered my lashes. “It is a pleasure to be here in your beautiful home and to have your blessing to marry Prince Kiros and unite our two kingdoms.”
A smile spread across his face. He guffawed and slapped his son on his shoulder. “I see why you were so taken with this young lady. We will begin trade negotiations with your councilmen. We look forward to the wedding this week.”
Kiros jumped in. “Actually, with all respect, Your Majesty, Winter was hoping to have the wedding next week. Her birthday is in eight days, and it would mean a lot to her beliefs if we held it then.”
That wasn’t accurate, but I nodded all the same.
“Is this true?”
“Yes,” I said with the biggest smile I could muster. My eyes brightened. “Weddings on birthdays mark a strong union to us lunas.”
“I haven’t heard of it before, but you are the expert on lunas. Not me.” He looked me up and down. “You’re a Denor then, if you were born this time of year. Stubborn, strong-willed, and intelligent. Your purpose is to fight for those who cannot. Although, you seem more like an Aghai to me, but then, I am only getting to know you.”
I assumed he was talking about those star sign things. “I’m excited to learn more about them.”
Kiros smirked. “He could talk about them all day.”
He fell silent when Xenos looked at him. I laughed, and the awkwardness dissipated between us. “I could listen all day. It’s so fascinating.”
The king nodded, approval washing his features. “Enjoy the party.” He gave me one last look before walking away.
Kiros blew out a tense breath. “You impressed him. You can be quite likeable when you’re not shouting and threatening people.”
“Can we eat something before we meet anyone else?”
“After,” he said in a low voice. My stomach growled in protest. He pulled me along the hall until we joined a small group, where a woman greeted us. She was a few years older than me and had thick, shoulder-length curly black hair, thick eyebrows, and hooded eyes.
“Brother.”
