Page 85 of A Touch of Poison
“I think that went well.” I raised my eyebrows at him, hopeful.
He eyed me over his drink as he took a sip. “You were perfect.”
His words suffused me, and, face heating, I had to take another gulp of whatever it was in my glass.Slowly. I had plans for tonight. Not to mention the need to keep hold of my magic.
A moment later, his expression stiffened and he looked away before leading me to a small group including Ella, Rose, and Faolán and introduced his assistant, Brynan, and his partner, Gael. Then Bastian excused himself.
I stood there amidst their small talk, tiny thorns pricking my heart. Things between us weren’t right, not entirely, but after our travels, I thought they were better. That moment when he’d given me this ring and removed the necklace… it had felt likesomething.
Ella ducked closer, eyeing guests passing. “How’s your ‘project’ going?”
I’d told her about my investigation into unCavendish. She’d given me a fierce grin of approval and offered to help in any way. But she’d endured enough fae intrigue—if I could keep her out of this, I would.
“Mixed results so far.” I scanned the crowd, which was as full of Dawn folk as Dusk—their outfits blending to create a full rainbow from rich jewel tones to pale whispers of colour. “I’m looking for Caelus. Think he knows something.”
“He’s here—I saw him earlier.” She nodded back towards the entrance. “Over that way.”
Perfect. My first instinct was to give her a squeeze, but… poison. It had been enough of a challenge to trust my gloves and layers of clothing to take Faolán’s arm on the way here.
Instead, I blew her a harmless kiss. “You are a diamond.”
She primped her hair and grinned. “I know. I’ll help you get away, too.” She winked before draining her drink and turning to the rest of the group.
Effortlessly, she inserted herself into Rose and Brynan’s conversation about the coming eclipse and listened as though rapt.
A moment later, she asked, “And that’s the only time the queen and king can be awake at the same time?Fascinating.” She went to take a sip but widened her eyes at the empty glass. “Damn.”
I bit back a laugh, suddenly filled with fierce joy at having my friend back. “I can get you a fresh drink—save you missing out on any of thisfascinatingdiscussion.”
She touched her chest. “Oh,would you? So thoughtful.”
“Aren’t I?” I gave her a wink, mouthed athank youwhen no one was looking, then slipped into the crowd.
The folk from Dusk glanced at me and nodded, most of them smiling—I was old news to them. But those from Dawn watched more closely, albeit from behind fans and glasses. They were courtiers, and just like back in Albion, they knew a little about subtlety.
Any one of them could be behind unCavendish. Admittedly, it waspossiblehe’d been sent by someone from Dusk—someone who hated Bastian, but Dawn seemed most likely. Poisoning him at the wedding—that felt less personal, more political.
The question was, who had tried to ruin the alliance?
I searched for Caelus in the crowd, careful to keep my gloves up to my elbows so no bare skin peeked out.
Although I searched for one fae, it was Bastian’s name I picked out on someone’s lips. It was too noisy for me to catch much more than the word “oathbreaker” and I didn’t spot the speaker.
As I went on, my thoughts snagged on Bastian and his stiff shoulders as he’d disappeared.
He wasn’t the same person who’d taken me to the party in Riverton Palace or the one who’d laughed with me in a cave, drenched in rain. This man looked tired all the time. He carried a weight I couldn’t fully understand, only that it seemed like a heavier version of the one I’d held when the estate was under threat.
Messages arrived for him in the middle of the night—pounding on the doors woke me. A couple of times I’d padded to the sitting room door to listen to the quiet voices. I’d heard enough to understand that he was about to hurry back to his room and get dressed, ready to deal with whatever his court and queen demanded.
Golden hair caught the light and a laugh rose above the others. Prince Cyrus. Head back, arm around a woman’s shoulder, he poured drink from a bottle into another man’s mouth.
Mostly in his mouth, anyway—his laughter sent plenty spilling over his chin and cheeks.
As Cyrus lowered the bottle and his friend spluttered, he met my gaze.
I held my face still, not allowing myself to wince as inwardly I chanted:Don’t come over. Don’t come over.After his behaviour last time, I had the feeling he wasn’t going to take no for an answer when it came to dancing.
With a smirk, he nodded, but otherwise made no approach.
