I rolled my eyes at his antics, taking small tastes of my wine occasionally. I swallowed down the succulent alcohol sip by sip, and, finally, when enough was enough with this unneeded frolic—and my drink was running low—I mumbled dryly, “You do realize I’ve been here many times? If you wanted to confuse me about where we’re going, you have failed. You’re only trying my patience. Take a left here and head straight. Do not deviate from that path, or we will leave you behind.”
His shoulders straightened at my threat.
But, thank fuck, he did as ordered.
I replaced my glass with another when we passed under the rounded entrance to King Traevon’s majestic ballroom. I stopped just inside the large space and scanned the unfriendly environment. We had taken so long to arrive that the room was already teeming with elves in their finery. I peered over their heads easily, taking note of King Elon on the far right side of the room, near a large back entrance door—where King Traevon and his soul mate were sure to enter. He was the only royal here so far. The rest, apparently, still being led on a merry jaunt through hallways.
I snorted and walked straight through the elves who stood in my way. My path quickly cleared when they noticed who was near them, although there were a few elves already in attendance who didn’t move as quickly as I liked. Those elves took their time to study my physique, hard intelligence lining their eyes, the elves who weren’t afraid to brawl. There would be more of them as the night wore on; the elf king surrounded himself with the strongest men and women of his kingdom, not just prominent merchants and his family’s friends.
I stepped beside King Elon while Bishop took up a position behind me, next to the gorgon king’s personal guard, their backs to the wall. I leaned in the King of Gorgons’ direction, keeping my eyes on the elven mass. I growled softly, “You do know what ‘unity’ means, don’t you? I thought King Traevon was pretty clear on that.”
King Elon rolled the stem of his wine flute between his fingers, studying the dark liquid within. “I have no idea what you are referring to.”
“What did you try to smuggle in?” I asked bluntly.
The King of Gorgons sighed heavily and swallowed down a strong gulp of his wine. “The guards took issue with my present.”
I turned my head to stare at his profile. I waited.
“Apparently, the rare and expensive perfume I purchased for King Traevon’s soul mate occasionally has adverse effects on an elf.” His lips curved up at the edges, watching the elves titter and blush while they dallied with one another. “Imagine my surprise when they informed me of that. I hadn’t the foggiest that could occur.”
I slowly returned my attention to the crowd, finishing off my glass of wine and tossing the empty flute casually to a server—he caught it with one hand and went on his way.
I stated evenly, “That wasn’t wise of you.”
“He would still be alive.” King Elon twirled his glass again between his fingers. “That is all we need.”
“We need him coherent.” I stretched my neck back and forth, the three drinks finally loosening up my muscles. “Don’t be a Fae damned idiot. Not right now.”
“Fuck off,” he hissed, his voice slithering fiercely. “It wasn’t your brother he killed.”
“No, it was my father.”
“Good riddance there.”
I grunted in agreement. “The same could be said for your appalling brother.”
King Elon hissed, casting a heated glare right at the side of my face. “Holy Fae above and below, I hate these events.” He finished off his drink and snapped his fingers at a servant, exchanging his flute for a new one.
I waited a moment, and then I stated calmly, “Don’t pull that shit again.”
“I knew it wouldn’t work.” Then King Elon murmured wistfully, “But if it had, it would have been splendid. A man can dream of the day this elf king is dead.”
I snickered in good humor, entirely entertained with the angered attention the gorgon king and I were receiving. “How many glasses of wine have you had?”
“Not nearly enough.” King Elon flicked his gaze to the sentinels in red who were stationed only a few feet away, staring daggers at us. He winked a reptilian eye at them and smiled wide—showing all of his white teeth. “If you want to have a staring contest, elves, I’m more than willing to oblige.”
Every sentry instantly stared at his chin instead of his eyes.
My laughter boomed loud and clear. “I guess they don’t like being stone hard.”
“Pity for their partners,” King Elon muttered wryly.
“Mayhap elves don’t even know what stone hard is. They look fairly scandalized, so they’ve probably never heard of anything being hammered up their ass before. Perhaps you should show them? I have heard you favor a certain guard in your kingdom.” I snapped my fingers, pretending as if I didn’t know who it was—but the danger in my voice was not subtle. “What was his name again? It is on the tip of my tongue. Raoul? Yes, I believe that is it.”
The gorgon king choked on his drink and pounded on his chest, spewing. “Now, I believe you are trying to kill me…and leave him out of this.”
With a straight face, I purred, “I’m sure the Fae wouldn’t mind.” Death this way comes…
King Elon snorted hard. “You are trying to get me killed.”
I smirked cruelly, stating slowly, “Only if you pull bullshit again like you did tonight. I am a patient predator. I can wait for the right moment to kill. This is not the time for games, as you well know.”
The gorgon king’s hostile eyes met mine.
I cocked my head subtly, leniently giving him a moment.
“Fine,” he snipped.
I nodded once. Issue resolved—for now.
The two queens were arriving, anyway.
Queen Alora flicked her hand at a servant, shooing them away, and marched straight toward us through the crowd, her personal guard barely keeping up behind her. Her light blue dress, of what appeared to be caster-spelled seafoam, fluttered around her body like waves in the ocean from her perturbed gait.
She halted next to us, her personal guard taking position next to ours. The merfolk queen grouched, “Good Fae. That was utterly ridiculous.”
I rubbed at my ear that was closest to her.
It would be best not to talk about royal secrets now, so as not to permit everyone in the ballroom to hear.
Queen Mikko prowled through the room, the normally subdued, sweet queen irked as well when she stopped beside King Elon—her personal guard staying close by her. “I had to put a fucking spell on my guard to get him to stop wandering about.”
Queen Alora scowled. “How many forays did you have through the art gallery?”
“Three times.” Queen Mikko’s expression instantly lightened, altering with a thrilled smile, decidedly ruining the lethal look of her barbed dress. “Minnie’s artwork is truly remarkable. She is the best artist in all five kingdoms.”
“I saw it seven times.” The Queen of Merfolk huffed. “Trust me. It got a little old after the fifth time.”
I chuckled softly. “Why didn’t you stop the guard before that?” I brushed my finger against the corner of my mouth. “You’ve got a little something right there.”