CHAPTER ONE
Confession of a princess:
Lying to adversaries is far too easy. Enjoyable, even.
You can pick and choose the story you weave, creating a perversion of beauty or of despair. A whole new state of awareness brews in their minds, all falling from your tongue, spun as far as your imagination can reach.
But lying to one’s father—and king—is not pleasant.
I feel dirty...
THE STENCH OF decay and death clung to my overly exhausted body. The five rulers weren’t faring any better this evening, with the scent of long-past losses saturating the royal conference room at High Pointe, destroying a part of its elegance. The peculiar Fae glow that resided within the glass ceiling during nightfall, lighting the room in an array of different stunning hues, couldn’t even hold my inquisitive attention. Digging through a mass shifter grave would have that effect, an entirely disagreeable experience.
I sniffed at my arm, barely managing not to choke. I cast my tired, emerald gaze at the five rulers where they spoke quietly to each other—the Misfits having just left with the Axe of Legend.
The royals discussed my parents’ five hundredth soul-mated anniversary that was next week, the military logistics of all the royals congregating at the elven castle. Father wouldn’t want the other kingdoms’ crowned heads to be present at his celebratory affair, and they would not wish to attend, either—their resigned, long-suffering demeanors telling the truth—but it was proper to invite them and appropriate for every ruler to accept the invitation.
Keeping the peace was paramount, no matter personal feelings. Our enemies would grace us with their presence. No one would like it. A new day would come without fighting. The peace would continue—end of story.
I waited patiently for a lull in their exchange, and then I spoke quickly, lest they converge on a new topic. “King Traevon, may we go home now?”
As I’d predicted, the other four rulers started a new conversation about what they might wear to the party, utterly ignoring me, as if I hadn’t been a huge part of helping them find the second artifact.
My king turned his head in my direction, eyeing my disgusted, scrunched features while I sniffed at my red locks. His lips pinched into a thin line, and he squinted in fatigue. “Unless you’d like to ride the guards’ horses that are stationed outside, we’ll be staying the night here. We need to wait for our Fae-gifts to arrive.”
Fae dammit all. Of course, he wouldn’t have ordered Javon to fly here from the bottom of the ice cliff. Father wouldn’t have risked his Fae-gift landing without warning at High Pointe, unless completely necessary. He’d want Javon safe at home.
My own Fae-gift was securely tucked away in our royal stables, courtesy of Red Louie’s unexpected kindness. I wondered how Penelope enjoyed her time with the gremlin. He’d probably bribed her to behave with blue apples, the only way she would have complied with him and not stomped his bony, green ass into the ground after our latest horrible adventure with the Fae.
I sighed heavily in defeat and placed a weak hand over my growling stomach. “They’ll come first thing in the morning?”
“I’ll inform a guard of our needs shortly, my daughter.” His emerald gaze darted back and forth, scanning my tired face. Father’s lips tipped up at the edges in encouragement, compassion radiating from his gaze. “Go shower and sleep while I handle business. You know where my bedchamber is here.”
I wasn’t going to argue with him. I dipped my head in appreciation, ignoring how my vision swam for a moment—or two. “Thank you, my king.”
“You’re welcome, my daughter. Go to bed.” King Traevon returned his attention to the other rulers, joining the conversation easily. “Yes, my beautiful soul mate has matched our attire for the evening. It is quite stunning, as you can imagine. She is so talented.”
I released a slow breath and crept behind the five royals, strolling as casually as I could, my eyes focused on the door. Walking across the white tile, I dragged my feet and gripped the royal desks to keep from falling over, trying to stay as quiet as a mouse. Gifting as much power as I had tonight to keep my dratted soul mate alive had cost my body dearly. That glorious high of adrenaline had worn off, and I was now near fainting and trying desperately to hide it.
No one glanced in my direction…until I landed face-first on the shifter king’s royal desk. “Ow! Fae take it all.”
Embarrassing.
“Trixie?” Father asked quickly.
“I’m fine. I’m fine,” I complained as I lifted my head from the desk to stare at the door again. “I merely tripped.”
“Get off my desk, elf,” King Athon barked. His heavy footfalls clomped behind me, and his large palms suddenly wrapped around my biceps from behind, jerking me up straight. His heat warmed my weary bones, my back practically on fire with it. “Have some damned respect.”
“Unhand me, shifter.” I slashed a venomous glance over my shoulder. “Now.”
Had the King of Shifters lost his bloody mind?
Was he trying to start a fight?
“Hands. Off. Her,” King Traevon demanded, his voice frightening in its calmness. “If I have to repeat that, you and I are going to have a real issue—one you won’t like the outcome to.”
King Athon snorted. “I’ll do as I wish when it comes to my property. And that desk right there? Mine.”
“For now,” Father hummed—full of meaning and intention.
The King of Shifters’ hands were rough and bruising, but as he shoved me away from his desk, he whispered oh, so darkly, “Your father saw the tiger book. He knows where it came from.”
I grunted and wobbled from my Fae damned soul mate’s push and kept my feet moving toward the door. Apparently, he hadn’t lost his mind. My eyes widened on my destination, and my backside stayed to the others. I sputtered, “As my king stated, don’t touch me again, Your Royal Highness. Unless you want your eyeballs burned out.”
How in the Fairy was I going to lie my way out of this?
Father was not unintelligent. I needed to think fast.
I needed some kind of excuse for having that book in my bag.
“Shut up, elf, before you fall on your face again.” King Athon snickered with much amusement. “Although, that was entertaining to watch.”
I hadn’t known he had been looking. Shifter prick.
I flashed my fangs, but he couldn’t see them, positioned as I was. I kept my mouth shut after that, only concentrating on my destination—and not landing on the floor. I eventually made it outside the room and gave up all pretenses when I was out of royal eyesight. I stumbled to and fro and held my stomach tight, the cramping from hunger heinous. Mayhap I should have had the delicious mutton pie, even if the shifter bitch had baked it.
I blinked and shook my head. No. I wouldn’t go that far.
I wouldn’t mind burning her again, though.
That thought brought a smile to my face and a little pep to my wavering steps. I staggered through the main reception room, and then I used my left arm for support against the white hallway wall, almost to the royal chambers. I eventually opened King Traevon’s bedchamber door, slammed it closed behind me, and sagged against the wall in relief. It may have taken me far too long to arrive here, but I had accomplished it without tumbling again.