Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 127026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
“It’s a trick,” she said softly. “I still want it, but … but we had enough.”
He ground his teeth together and nodded. As if he were physically unable to speak or he would rush the tables again.
She put her hand in his, grounding them, and then stepped away from the buffet. One step at a time to escape the temptation of feasting for eternity.
Once they were out of the room, Kerrigan finally felt as if she could breathe easier again. The hunger dampened by the distance.
“That was close,” she said.
“Thank you,” he said softly. “For saving us.”
“I don’t know how I did it. I wanted to eat all of that food.”
“Yes,” he said with a cough. “I still want to turn around and go back.”
She nodded, holding his hand tighter. “Then, let’s go on and see what other faerie tale is in store for us.”
He pushed his shoulders back and took another step away from the food and drink. She stayed at his side. The farther they got away from the refreshments, the better she felt. Until they stopped before two enormous gilded doors.
A male stepped out of another door and bowed low to them both. “I shall announce you.”
The doors swung open, as if of their own accord, revealing the largest ballroom Kerrigan had ever witnessed. It mirrored the rest of the palace, done up in the softest pink-and-white marble. A mural was painted upon the ceiling that seemed to shift the longer Kerrigan tried to make out what it was. Hundreds of Fae danced in time to the music, played by a full orchestra upon a dais against the far wall.
When the song ended, the dancers ceased and applauded the dance. Then, they turned to the doors and stood, waiting.
The male announced, “Fordham Ollivier, son of Samael and Kamara of Tribe Charbonnet, exile of the House of Shadows, prince of the Dark Court, king of nothing.”
Fordham startled at that introduction. So many truths splayed out before a host of strangers. His face was hard as a rock as he stepped forward. She could tell that he resented those titles. Now, she feared how she was going to be announced.
“And Felicity Kerrigan Argon, daughter of Kivrin of Tribe Bryonica and Keres of Andromadix, head of the House of Cruse, nominee of the Society council, and descendant of He Who Reigns.”
Kerrigan stared at the man in utter confusion. Only half of those words made any sense to her. Keres was her mother. But Andromadix? What was that? Was that her mother’s surname or where she was from? She had never heard that word or anything like it here in Alandria.
Also, who was He Who Reigns, and how was she descended from him? He Who Reigns felt like a title, but there was no such title that followed her family line. Somehow, she had more questions than answers.
Still, she had to step forward. If this male was anything like the last, he would give her no answers. Only the witch could answer these questions. Perhaps that was precisely why they had been put before them.
“What was all of that?” Fordham asked her softly.
“I have no idea.”
“What do we do now?”
The music began again, and Kerrigan’s stomach went to her feet. “I think we dance.”
“That is obvious, but why?”
“Were you not told the faerie tales?”
“They were more … suggestions rather than fears,” he admitted with a frown.
“Right. House of Shadows,” she grumbled. “Anyway, they told little half-Fae and human children that if you danced in Faerie, you’d never cease. You would dance until your feet fell off … literally.”
“And like the food, I’m gathering … you would want to.”
“Precisely.”
A male stepped forward, bowing low before Kerrigan. He was strikingly handsome. “My lady, may I have this dance?”
A group of females tittered to Fordham’s side, each anxious to have him add his name to their dancing cards.
“Together,” Fordham said quickly. “Don’t let go.”
He swept her into his arms, and off they went. The other dancers filed in around them, unperturbed by their refusal. Perhaps it was enough to get them out on the dance floor.
As soon as the music began anew, Kerrigan felt the entire world shift. She had always loved the dances at court. Her father had taught her them all at a very young age. She had avoided them in the House of Dragons to stall the ache in her heart at the loss of everything she’d once had. But now that she was free to enjoy them, she found she never wanted to leave the dance floor.
“Look for an exit. We can escape as soon as we get near one,” Fordham said.
But Kerrigan’s ears were clogged with cotton. She didn’t hear another word out of his lips. Something about a witch. Something, something about a cottage. She didn’t know. All she knew was that one song ended and the next started.