The day after the nobles' party down by the lake, Prince Theo had set sail from the mainland docks with hundreds of his parents’ subjects to wave him off. Fleur had not been among them. Lady Delilah had been forced to go by royal decree, not that anything could have stopped her from wishing her beloved prince farewell. Fleur had feigned illness, claiming she'd had too much honeysuckle wine the night before and being the good friend that she was, Delilah hadn't forced her to join the parade.
Fleur wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that she hadn't seen Theo for six months or that soon she would be forced to spend the rest of her life watching him prance about with Delilah on his arm.
Of course, the two were made for each other, both beautiful and handsome in equal measure, both intelligent and talented in all the finer arts of the royal fae court, both sharp and manipulative and always able to get whatever they wanted.
And yet, Fleur felt a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever she thought of her friend marrying the king of the Summer Isles. It wasn't just because of what had happened between them the night before he left. At least, that's what Fleur told herself.
"Fleur? Are you listening to me?"
Fleur cleared her throat, realizing a lump had begun to form there and hoped it would also clear the fuzz from her ears that seemed to be making it impossible for her to concentrate.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" she asked, flustered. "I think all this organizing your gowns has melted my brain. Are you sure you need to take everything? I'm sure you'll only buy more when we arrive."
Delilah, who was sitting at her vanity table brushing out her silver locks, gazed at Fleur through the looking glass and gave her an, 'are you kidding me?', look before she huffed, "Seriously, Fleur, I need you on guard when we arrive. You've heard the rumors as well as I have. They say he has multiple girls a night. Sometimes even multiple girls at the same time!"
"I'm sure they are just rumors," Fleur insisted, hoping to ease her Lady's worries, and deep down, hoping to quench her own jealousy at the rumors she'd heard.
"Where do you think rumors begin, Fleur?" Delilah snapped and slammed the solid gold Pegasus bristle hair brush down on the vanity table so hard that the looking glass trembled precariously.
"Every noble runs wild before their wedding," Fleur insisted. "I'm sure he'll settle down once you are there in person to remind him of all he has been missing."
Fleur didn't add the fact that over half of those nobles continued having affairs behind their wives’ backs long after they were married. All one needed to do was throw a stone in the palace and it would land on an unfaithful husband. Fae were hot tempered but also fueled by desire. Their lust often had them getting into all kinds of trouble and yet aggrieved wives never seemed to allow their husbands to forget their misdemeanors, even after slip ups of their own.
We are a flawed race, Fleur declared to herself and yet even as she thought it, she knew how many of those women felt. She could never have the prince—now a king—and yet if the last six months had proven anything, she would eternally wish that she could.
He tricked me. That was no real spark. She tried to tell herself the same thing she had been telling herself ever since his departure. After all, she had accused him of it that night. There was no other explanation for what had happened between them. It had to have been pixie dust on his lips or some other form of cheap magic trick in an attempt to get into her pants for one last fling before he got shipped off to the Summer Isle. It just had to be.
So why did she feel such a yearning in the pit of her stomach whenever she thought of him? Why could she still feel her lips tingling whenever she thought of that night?
"By all the fae gods, Fleur! Are you even listening to me?" Delilah's shrill voice broke into Fleur's racing thoughts yet again and she dropped the gown she had been so carefully folding as if her hands had been turned to automatic.
She forced a yawn in order to disguise her surprise, realizing she had been so intent on her thoughts that she hadn't heard a single word Delilah said.
"I'm sorry but I've been up all night trying to make sure everything is packed." It wasn't entirely a lie although half of the night she had spent fretting over what would happen when they arrived on the Summer Isle.
"Just promise me one thing, please, Fleur," Delilah insisted. She spun around on her stool, adjusting the skirt of her lilac gown before she added, "Just promise me you'll help me keep an eye on him. I'm not sure I could stand the rumors flying while living under his roof. I need to be able to disprove them if the need arises."
Delilah stared at Fleur with such hope in her crystalline blue eyes that she couldn't help but promise, "I promise I will keep an eye on him."
Even as she did, a small voice in the back of her head asked, who is going to keep an eye on you?
"Okay, good." Delilah nodded, a smile crossing her face. She turned back to face the looking glass and eyed Fleur in the reflection. "Well, you'd better get on with packing or we will never be ready to leave."
Fleur struggled not to cringe at the sour tone in her mistress's voice. Ever since the night at the lake, Delilah seemed to be becoming more and more distant, sometimes even hostile.
Does she know what happened? Fleur thought guiltily. Is one of the rumors about me?
Fleur shoved the thought away quickly. It didn't bear thinking about. She and Delilah had been living together as mistress and lady companion since they were children and Fleur couldn't imagine a world where Delilah couldn't just talk to her.
If she spoke to me I could tell her the truth, she thought, wondering whether Delilah might have heard that things had gotten way more heated than they had. Maybe she believed Theo's trick had worked and that she'd willingly fallen into his bed.
Fleur cringed at the thought and only partly because of how guilty it made her feel. The other part of her began to feel warm and fuzzy with butterflies in her stomach at the images her mind began to conjure.
"I...umm… I'll have everything packed as soon as possible." Fleur's throat was thick and she struggled to speak, coughing as discreetly as possible to clear it.
"Good," Delilah responded, clearly not noticing Fleur's discomfort. She gracefully pushed herself from her stool and began to walk toward the door. "In the meantime, I had better go and say my goodbyes."
"Yes, of course." Fleur dipped her head, scurrying across the room to open up the door for Delilah when she stood with her hands clasped before her, her eyebrow raised in irritation.