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“Whatever. I have important business to attend to,” she said dismissively and stepped to the side to move around his hulking frame. “Enjoy the party. Ordon’t.”
“I heard this was your idea.” Eurig let out a snort and shook his head. “I should have known. Only a human would decide something so trivial would be the answer to the King’s currentstate.”
Bree tensed. “What the hell do you know about the King’s currentstate?”
He hadn’t been at the aftermath of the coronation. Bree was certain of it. There had only been a handful of fae left, and she would have remembered his face—and his body—if he’d been amongst them. If word was beginning to spread…it was only a matter of time before the entire Court foundout.
Eurig leaned closer, dropping his voice into a low growl. “I know that the King will not be attending tonight’s ball, despite it being a celebration of his new reign. Whatever curse has befallen him, a paralyzed fae cannot walk, let alone dine and dance to music allnight.”
“How did you find out?” Bree snapped. “Who toldyou?”
If there was a leak, Bree needed to find it quickly. And plugit.
Eurig let out a low chuckle, and the scent of mint, cinnamon, and sea filled her nose. “Relax. Rafferty informed me of the King’s condition when I first joined the Academy. And there is no need to worry about me. I will not reveal your precious Taveon’s condition to anyoneelse.”
Irritation bubbled up from deep within her gut. “Well, there’s no need to be an ass aboutit.”
“You are right. There’s no need.” He winked. “But it’s certainly more fun to be. I not only know about your precious male’s curse, but I know about your bond. And your feelings for him are written all across that cute little pixie face ofyours.”
Bree ground her teeth together and fought the urge to show Eurig exactly how far her training had come in the past few weeks. “Don’t call mecute.”
“And why is that, Bree? Because you’re a vicious beast and not a sweet little thing with a tiny nose?” And then he tapped her nose with his forefinger. He actually bopped her nose. Bree was so taken aback that she didn’t have the chance to react until he’d already strode away from her, disappearing into the heaving crowd. She blinked after him,stunned.
She couldn’t believe he’d just bopped her nose, like she was a cute littlepet.
Fisting her hands, she began to stride after him but another male fae slid into her way before she had the chance. He was tall and lithe, his face hidden by a mask. But Bree would recognize his aura no matter what he did to try to obscure hisidentity.
She narrowed her eyes and stepped back. “Why are youhere?”
Bree didn’t say Fillan’s name, even though a part of her knew she probably should. He was infamous, but most of the fae in this room had never actually laid eyes on him before. When Fillan had first shown up in her life, Taveon and Dagen had both given her a grim warning: Fillan never lets a fae see him unless he plans on assassinating them. Or unless he wantssomething.
Still, if she spoke his name aloud, every fae in the room would know exactly who hewas.
“I need to speak to you,” he said quietly as he wrapped a tight grip around her arm. “Alone. And I would appreciate it if you did not make ascene.”
“You’re askingmeto not make a scene? You’re the one who showed up here in the middle of a ball meant to celebrate our Court. Not to mention the host of other things you’ve done.” Like kissing her in front of Branok and Conlan, forone.
“Meet me on the other side of the tapestry,” he said in an urgent tone, ignoring every other statement she’d made. “And do soquickly.”
Fillan drifted away from her, letting his body fall into the churn of the crowd. She watched his back slowly melt from her view, anger and fear roiling through her. Logically, Bree knew what she should do. Go straight to Dagen or Rafe and tell them what had just happened. But the logical part of her brain was drowned out by curiosity. Had Fillan found something? He knew about Taveon’s curse. Perhaps he’d somehow found out how to breakit.
Or he’d discovered what the color of Taveon’s wingsmeant.
So, with a deep breath, she followed him through the crowd. She slowed to a stop by the fluttering tapestry. It was the same one that had hung there during the last ball. It was a deep crimson red, and a large pair of wings had been sown into the fabric. King Midas’s symbol, one intended to remind his subjects of his power andstrength.
Red wings meant raw power. The kind that could not be contested or matched. Most Dark Fae had blackwings.
And Taveon had silver ones, a trait so rare that she had been forbidden to speak of it, even with LordDagen.
Oh, how badly she wanted to know what thatmeant.
Bree dipped beneath the tapestry and ran face first into Fillan’s chest. Cheeks flaming, she took a step back and smoothed down the front of her dress, as if she’d somehow wrinkled it, even though she’d done nothing of the sort. She just needed to something to do with her hands. Something that did not involve reaching out and touching Fillan.Anywhere.
He is an assassin,Bree.
So, why did he look like nothing of the sort? Sure, he came across as deadly and as dangerous as any of the Dark Fae, but he did not hold that darkness as heavily on his shoulders as the rest. There was something lighthearted in his eyes. Something softer and kinder than most of the fae she’d met so far. And yet, he was akiller.
Perhaps his smile was merely a mask, just like Taveon’s mask of brutality and Dagen’s mask of indifference. Because Taveon was as far from brutal as one could get, and Dagen cared far more than he wanted anyone toknow.
