Page 12 of Fae's Mate
“Then it is decided. Follow me.”
Without checking to see if we are in tow, the High Lord strides from the room.
Like a flock of sheep, we amble through the palace, past oak doors, both open and closed. The walls are lined with tapestries and sconces that hold fat candles. The palace is a warren, and by the time we draw to a stop, I am completely lost.
“Here we are,” announces the High Lord. “the first two rooms on the right are the larger rooms, for those of you who will be sharing. Please make yourselves comfortable. I will have the evening meal served at sunset.”
With that, he stands to one side and allows everyone to pick a room. I scurry past him, avoiding eye contact, aware of his gaze following me, until I reach the end of the corridor and slip into the last room on the left. After slamming the door shut, I take in my surroundings and stifle a gasp. The room is much more opulent than I imagined; airy and spacious, even though the walls are made of stone, and the furniture is a rich dark wood. A four-poster bed stands to my right, draped in dark green velvet with golden fringe and tassels, and beyond it is a doorway that I assume leads to a bathroom. On the opposite wall is a fireplace with a huge fur rug in front of it. The far wall is home to two stained glass double doors that beckon me. Padding over, I push them open and step onto a wooden balcony. The view takes my breath away. Forest stretches out in front of me, a patchwork of red, orange, and yellow. Beyond the trees, I spot snow-capped mountains, and the balcony is so high that the air is cool and crisp.
Footsteps behind me jolt me from my appreciation with a squeal.
“I did not mean to startle you,” the High Lord explains. “I only came to check that your room was to your liking.”
As I turn, he steps out onto the balcony, and though it is big enough for a small party, it suddenly feels small and cramped. The air once again feels thick and heavy, and that peculiar tightness in my chest returns. I face the forest, sucking in the cool autumn air.
When he comes to stand beside me, his arms folded, resting on the balcony railing, I realise I haven’t said a word.
“I’m grateful for the room, its generous of you to put us all up like this.”
I see him nod slowly in my peripheral, agreeing with me and I try not to scoff. I wonder if he is thinking about what questions to ask me now that we are alone again, and my pulse quickens.
“The view is beautiful,” I continue, only because it is preferable to silence.
“I’m very fond of it.”
I take a deep breath, then turn to face him. He’s watching me intently and I can’t look away. By the light of the setting sun, he looks… handsome. His hair—which I previously thought was a light brown—looks more golden and hangs past his broad shoulders in soft waves. I have the strangest urge to stoke it. His bizarre clothing fits him perfectly, making the most of his physique. When I look back up at his face, as he is a good foot taller than me, I notice his eyes aren’tjustbrown either; they are a fascinating chestnut colour, with hints of red. I swallow and look away, feeling weirdly flustered.
“You have spoken to all of us now.”
“I have.”
“And you are no closer to figuring out why we were brought here,” I state.
“That sounds like a question.”
I swear I can hear him smirk.
“No.”
“Good, because I haven’t asked you what I am owed yet.”
“Ask away,” I challenge, with more conviction than I feel.
“Hmm, not yet.”
I don’t understand what he is waiting for. He has me alone. Surely, he could ask anything. I release a huff, eager to ask him more questions, but… I don’t want him to have any more to hold over my head…Fuck it.
“I have more questions,” I declare.
“Interesting.”
He studies me for a moment, and I feel my stupid cheeks flush again.
“You may ask as many questions as you wish. But for each one you ask of me; I may ask two of you.”
“No.”
When he raises an eyebrow at me, I try to summon the courage to counter him.
