Page 22 of Of Mist and Shadow

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“Yes. And it’s about time you truly understood that.” She turned around, her armored back facing me. “Now, get dressed. We don’t have time for this.”

I clutched the gown to my chest and glared at her, my heart a hammer against my ribs. Everything within me itched to fight, to scream and rage against these people and this place.

I hated them all.

“At least give me some actual privacy,” I said. “You already forced me to take a public bath today. If I’m to be paraded in front of a court full of monstrous fae tonight, at least let me dress in peace.”

She heaved out a sigh. “Fine. I’ll be right outside. Don’t take too long.”

She left me alone in the room. Quickly, I pulled off my clothes and donned the silky gown, topping off the look with my hidden dagger around my ankle. If I got the chance to stab the king in the heart, I would take it. They’d kill me for it, but at least I’d drag him down with me. Sometimes, you had to fight for others when no one else would.

Maybe it would be the start of a better world for everyone.

When I opened the door, Morgan gave me a nod. “Good. Your hair would look better up, but we don’t have time for that.” She motioned me into the hallway. “Brace yourself. It’s going to be an...eye-opening evening for you.”

Wonderful.My mouth went dry. That couldn’t mean anything good. And going by what I’d experienced so far, it would probably be worse than what she was letting on.

Morgan led me to the ground floor where the scent of fire and smoke whispered toward me on a gentle wind, along with the sound of violins, harps, and flutes, all blending together in an upbeat, lilting tune.

It was a tune I’d heard all my life, one celebrating King Oberon’s generosity. Usually, singers joined in back home.

King Oberon, the brave,

King Oberon, the kind,

To protect us from the mists beyond the gates.

King Oberon, the valiant,

King Oberon, the strong,

To save us from the Mist King’s cruel fate.

Our enemy cannot feast upon our flesh,

He cannot munch on our burnt bones,

Long live King Oberon the great.

Thankfully, the fae weren’t singing along. I found out why as soon as we turned the corner and came to the entrance to the Great Hall.

The Eversun Ball was in full swing. A set of looming wooden doors were flung wide, revealing the raucous party inside. At the far end of the Great Hall, King Oberon sat on a red-drenched throne, elbows on each knee, watching over the elaborately dressed court that was dancing, drinking, and...fucking.

Several naked couples and threesomes were scattered throughout the glittering hall, lit by black candles, humping and moaning and clawing each other’s backs. On the floor by my feet, a male had his mouth latched on a female’s breast while another straddled him, her fingernails digging into his muscular chest as she rode his cock.

My chest went hot, and I swallowed hard.

“Not what you expected, eh?” Morgan asked quietly from beside me.

I didn’t give her the satisfaction of a nod. The parties back home were nothing like this.

“Don’t worry. You aren’t expected to participate. You’re his.” She inclined her head toward King Oberon, who had lifted his head to stare across the Great Hall, right at me. Darkness flickered in his flaming eyes. He wore crimson silks, his golden crown, and his black stone necklace, but there was no weapon in sight. “You’ll stand beside him for the duration of the night. When the king decides the revel is over, I’ll return you to your room.”

The king narrowed his eyes as a furious rage crossed his face. I wanted to ask the cause, but I had a feeling it had something to do with me being late. And besides, I knew I wasn’t to speak. So, I would keep my mouth shut. For now.

He lifted his hand and curled his fingers, beckoning me forward.

Morgan said, “Go on then. You have to do this part alone.”


Tags: Jenna Wolfhart Fantasy