Changeling Magic, page 8
part #2 of Thirteen Realms Series
I raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Really.”
“Well, officially, it’s to celebrate his return, but I’m sure it’s really to see you.” He grinned—a genuine, unguarded expression of enjoyment. He seemed so much happier since we’d freed the king, as if it had lifted a burden from his shoulders. I guess that figured—the poor bastard had spent years looking for his king, never giving up hope of finding him or belief that he was still alive to be found. He’d been the laughing stock of the Court. Now he seemed a different person to the serious knight I’d first met. And I had to admit, the difference only added to his attractiveness.
“Who else is invited?”
He rolled his eyes. “Your friends, Willow and Sage, plus about half the kingdom. All the Lords and Ladies, of course; all the members of the Court; every last relative of the king and queen; representatives of all the major guilds—you name it, and they’re probably invited.”
“So Yriell will be there?” As the sister of the king, her name should be near the top of the list.
“Yriell is invited. As to whether she’ll bother attending, your guess is as good as mine. She seems to prefer being Yriell to her role as Princess Orina. She’s never been much interested in the politics of rule.”
“And this is politics?”
“Of course. Rothbold’s been gone too long.” Some of the light faded from his eyes, his expression growing serious as he pulled up for a red light. “It’s important to reassert his position.”
I could read between the lines just fine. “You mean he’s got to show his brother-in-law who’s boss before Kellith decides he preferred life without a king?”
He frowned, staring at the car in front as if it were a dragon he’d like to slay. “Officially, Kellith is considered blameless for the actions of a rogue member of his Court.”
“And unofficially?”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles white. “Unofficially, I would kill the traitorous bastard tomorrow if the king would only give the word.”
“What’s stopping him?”
“The fact that the snake is his wife’s brother? The naïve hope that the breach between them can still be mended? The fear that such action might cause open revolt among the other Lords? Who knows? The king doesn’t confide in me to such an extent.”
We turned a corner and he pulled up outside the rundown property that hid the entry to Willow’s sith. I paused, my hand on the door handle. “But you think he’s making a mistake.”
Stern golden eyes met mine. “Kellith is a rabid dog, and there is no reasoning with such. He needs to be put down before he attacks again.”
***
The king’s ball was only three days away. Apparently, if you were royalty, you didn’t worry that people might already have other engagements, you just scheduled things to suit yourself and expected them to drop everything to come to your party.
“Do you think your parents will be there?” Sage asked Willow.
The three of us were in the garden again—Willow spent most of her time in the sith’s garden. A Spring thing, I guess. They liked their nature as much as any Earthcrafter. Sage had a book in her lap, but she hadn’t turned a page for a while. She’d just been sitting there, gnawing at her bottom lip. Now I knew what was eating at her.
“Of course they will,” Willow replied. “They’re the Lord and Lady of Spring. But that doesn’t make any difference. The king himself has invited you. You have just as much right to be there as they do.”
“I know, I know,” she said hurriedly, “It’s just—”
“Just nothing,” I cut in. Sage was normally so ballsy, but mention the Lord and Lady of Spring, or anything about her father, and she shrank into herself.
Willow’s parents had thrown her out with the same callousness as my mother had shown me, and with even less cause. Sage was no changeling—no one was required to give up part of their power to allow her to stay in the Realms. She could have stayed there forever, but they’d cast her out simply because of who her father was, which was a raging injustice as far as I was concerned. As far as Willow was concerned, too, which was why she had left with Sage. It wasn’t as if Sage had had any choice in her parents, or control over what her father did.
“You don’t have to speak to them if you don’t want to. They have no power over you anymore.”
“Make sure they see you speaking to the king, though,” Willow said. “That will drive my father insane.”
That drew a grin from her. She sighed. “I wish I didn’t have to go.”
“Well, you can hardly refuse an invitation from the king himself.”
“I know, but it will be so awkward. All the nobles will be trying to avoid me. No one will ask me to dance, and I’ll probably spend the night getting drunk in the corner.”
Willow shrugged. “Sounds perfect. I’ll join you.” I envied Willow her assurance. She didn’t give a shit what people thought of her.
“I’m with you,” I said to Sage. “I’d much rather stay home. What on earth am I going to wear?”
“Oh, that’s no problem. We can go shopping,” Willow said.
“Hello? No money here, remember? Lost all possessions in a fire and all that?”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll buy you something. Spoilt rich girl here, remember?”
I shifted uncomfortably. “I can’t let you spend your money on a ball gown. That shit’s expensive, and you’ve already given me so much.”
Sage laid down her book, giving up all pretence of reading. “That’s what friends are for, right?”
“What, to live off like a parasite? No.”
“Then what will you wear?”
I lay back in my chair and stared up at the leaves dancing above my head. “Stuffed if I know. I’ll think of something.”
“Borrow something of mine, then, if you won’t let me buy you anything,” Willow said. “I have more Court gowns than you could poke a stick at.” She cast a triumphant smile at Sage, pleased with her use of the mortal idiom, but Sage wasn’t paying attention.
“That green one with the slit might work.” Sage had obviously been doing a mental review of Willow’s wardrobe. “The colour would suit her.”
They both stared at me appraisingly.
“Uh, guys, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Willow has a little more in the boob department than I do.” Okay, a lot more. And serious hips. Willow had a classic hourglass figure, and people still asked me for ID at pubs because I was built like a twelve-year-old. “I’ll look like a kid playing dress ups in her mother’s clothes.”
“Not the green one,” Willow said, as if I hadn’t spoken. “The blue satin would bring out her eyes more.”
“Let’s try it and see,” Sage said, and they hustled me into Willow’s bedroom before I could object.
Willow’s room was a bigger version of mine, open on two sides to the garden, the floor covered in soft grass rather than carpet. But the walk-in closet was all modern, and organised within an inch of its life. Everything was hung in colour order, with like items grouped with like, including a rainbow of evening gowns, some slippery satin or silk, others frothing with tulle or lace. All beautiful, and so expensive looking that I was afraid even to touch them.
Sage pulled out the green dress she’d mentioned and held it up against me for Willow’s inspection. It was covered in tiny embroidered flowers with little crystals at their centre. The slit up one side went nearly to the waist. Willow shook her head decisively and reached for a dress the dark blue of the sky as it faded to night. It had no straps, and I was the one who shook her head this time. I could imagine how well a bodice cut for Willow’s generous size would stay up on me.
“Try it.” Willow thrust the hanger at me.
I rolled my eyes, but pulled my shirt off over my head. I figured it would save time arguing if I just showed them. Gingerly, I stepped into the gown and pulled its liquid folds up over my hips.
“You could have taken your jeans off first,” Sage said, appalled, but I ignored her.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror on the wall. Willow was right—the colour did bring out the blue of my eyes, and its deep shade worked well with my pale skin and blonde hair. But, dear God, I was right, too. Even after Sage had done up the zipper, I had to hold the bodice up for fear the whole thing would slide right down to my hips. There was room for me and a friend in the elegant top of this thing.
Willow laid her hands on my waist as I opened my mouth to say I told you so. I felt the tingle of magic in the air and caught a whiff of rose perfume as Willow ran her hands up my sides. In their wake, the fabric tightened, conforming to my meagre curves. And not only conforming, but pushing and enhancing. For the first time in my life, I had serious cleavage happening.
“Wow. What did you do?”
“Just a little reshaping. Doesn’t that look better?”
“Yes, but …” I couldn’t help doing a little twirl in front of the mirror. Of course, my jeans sticking out the bottom didn’t exactly add to the look, but I could see that, in this dress, I needn’t be ashamed to hobnob with the great and powerful of the Realms. Even the Hawk might look twice, and that thought brought a surge of colour to my face and a thrill of excitement to my heart. “But you won’t be able to change it back to fit you, will you?”
Willow’s magic could do amazing things, like turn glass back into sand, or cause a flower to bloom or a tree to grow in mere seconds. But I’d never seen her return anything to its original state once she’d used her magic on it. As far as I knew, it was a one-time process only.
Willow waved an airy hand at the rack of gorgeous gowns. “Look at all these others I have. As if I’m going to miss one.”
“But—”
“Forget it. Consider it my present to you.”
I gave her a quick hug, though I still felt guilty. The idea had been for Willow not to spend money on me, but she’d be offended if I rejected her gift now, and it wouldn’t fit her anymore anyway. “Thank you. It’s an awesome present.”
“You look great,” Sage said. “That dress should rock the Hawk right out of his socks. And maybe a few other items of clothing.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said, as if I hadn’t been just thinking something along the same lines myself.
But I was looking forward to the ball a whole lot more than I had been.
10
On the evening of the ball, the Hawk arrived to escort us to the palace. I didn’t ask if that was on the king’s orders. There was no need to spoil my good mood. And besides, the look of appreciation in his eyes when he saw me made me think that my hopes for the evening might not be so far-fetched after all. He’d been interested once before—surely he could be again?
He took my hand, in the old-fashioned courtly manner, and bowed over it. I shivered a little as his lips brushed my skin. He was wearing a tuxedo, or at least appeared to be. More likely that was a Glamour laid over the top of what he was really wearing. Fae men didn’t go in much for suits. I resolved to enjoy the view while it lasted, though. A good-looking man in a suit is a thing of beauty—only that same man in a uniform could possibly beat the effect.
Hurriedly, I brushed aside any lingering images of the Hawk in a fireman’s uniform, or possibly naval whites. He was distracting enough in the flesh.
He drew his sword which, as usual, was concealed at his side, only becoming visible as it slid from its sheath. Then he glanced at Willow. “I assume there is no barrier to gating from here?”
“Not leaving,” she said. “But I have wards against unexpected visitors coming in.”
He gave an approving nod and slashed a doorway in the air. The interior boiled with a kind of fog, giving no hint of what lay on the other side. I wondered if the palace also had wards against incoming gates.
My question was answered as the four of us stepped through the fog and found ourselves outside the magnificent gates of Whitehaven. They were flung wide tonight, and extra guards stood at attention, welcoming the throng of noble visitors. The Hawk led us through, onto the pebbled path that wound through the gardens surrounding the palace. Sage walked on one side of me, and Willow on the other, all of us in finery borrowed from Willow’s extensive wardrobe. Ahead of us, the palace’s mighty towers pierced the night sky. A thousand globes of light hovered about the castle walls, making the gardens almost as bright as day, and cheerful bunting hung from every window.
Sage glanced nervously around, as if expecting assassins to jump out at us from under the delicate drapery of willow branches. “Do you think my father will be here?”
“Stop worrying about it,” Willow said. “The king didn’t like him before he disappeared, and that won’t have changed. You’re not going to suddenly run into Daddy Dearest in the hallway.”
“Have you seen your parents yet?”
Willow rolled her eyes. “Honey, we’ve barely arrived. Relax, would you?”
We reached the forecourt, which was full of people. The towers and spires of the castle loomed above us in a gleaming white stone that glowed softly in the lamp light. I’d heard that in the full sun, the walls were so bright it was impossible to look at them, and they sparkled with flecks of quartz embedded in the stone. Just as well the fae were a night-loving people.
Floating balls of light, held aloft by magic, illuminated a glittering stream of fae climbing the wide marble steps to the great doors of the castle, now standing open. Music floated down the stairs from inside, a waltz, though the instruments would have sounded odd to human ears. The waterfall of liquid sound from the harp was easy to pick out, and the wooden flute so beloved of the fae was also familiar, but I couldn’t tell what the other instruments were.
I was more than a little anxious as we climbed the wide steps to the main entrance. Around us were all the high and mighty of the Realms. I didn’t know any of them, but Willow was kept busy greeting people, exchanging air kisses amid cries of how long it had been since they’d seen each other.
Yeah, that happened when your parents were arseholes so you stormed off to the mortal world and didn’t come back for five years. She wouldn’t have come back now, but, as she’d pointed out to Sage, no one refused an invitation from the king. It was strange to see her like this, working the crowd like a politician as we made our slow procession up the stairs and through the crowded foyer.
When she was lazing around at home, or rocking out in the band, it was easy to forget she was virtually royalty herself. They called the rulers of the separate Realms Lords and Ladies, but they were more like kings and queens of their own little domains, answerable to the High King in Whitehaven, but pretty free to do whatever they wished. Which made Willow a princess, in a way, and she looked every inch of it tonight. Her unruly red curls had been tamed into an upswept hairstyle that made her neck appear even longer and more graceful than usual. Diamonds dripped from her earlobes, and her pale green dress sparkled with stones that may have been diamonds as well, for all I knew.
Sage wore a deep red gown that clung to her athletic figure and set off her darker skin to perfection. Her hair was too short to style, but none of the men were looking at her face, their gaze drawn by the plunging neckline of her dress, which reached almost to her navel. She looked amazing, and moved with an easy confidence that gave no sign of her inner nerves.
My own borrowed finery clung from breasts to hips, then flared out into a skirt that swished against my legs as I walked. Willow had worked a miracle with my hair—it wasn’t really long enough to put up, but she’d managed it with some clever work with the hairpins. When I’d looked in the mirror, I’d been surprised at how regal I looked. The high heels helped a little with that, too.
I clung to the Hawk’s arm, feeling like this was a fairy tale I didn’t belong in. A woman in a deep red dress the colour of fresh blood turned to stare at me, then whispered something to the man to whose arm she clung. He laughed. Another group at the top of the stairs turned as if the laugh were a signal, and looked me up and down as if I were a cow for sale at the stock markets.
I ran my hand nervously over the slippery satin of my dress, feeling it slide across my thighs with each step. Sage had lent me a necklace of dark blue stones, almost the same colour as the dress, which lay heavy against my pale skin. I straightened my shoulders, my heart beating faster as we approached the doors. Screw them and the horse they rode in on, as Sage would say. They could look down their noses all they liked, but I was the one on the arm of the handsomest man there. I might only be a changeling, but, unlike them, I’d actually gotten off my arse to help the king. I deserved my place here. I’d earned it.
Rows of guards lined each side of a narrow white carpet. They must use magic to keep it so clean. We passed under the guards’ watchful eyes, through an archway, into a larger vestibule, where busy servants were taking cloaks and wraps. I kept a firm grip on my tiny clutch purse, though other women were abandoning their jewelled bags to the staff. My asthma puffer was in mine. Although I rarely needed an extra dose, my mother had drummed it into me from childhood: always keep your medicine with you.
I realised that the Hawk was now wearing a cream silk shirt, nicely fitted across his broad chest but with full sleeves, set off by dark blue pants tucked into high black boots. With his dark beard, he looked like a pirate. I added “pirate” to my mental catalogue of sexy looks for men, wondering if Willow had told him what colour my dress was. His pants were an exact match.
The noise level increased as we passed through another set of doors into a long, narrow room. We were almost at the ballroom; I could see it through the doors at the end of the room. Here, a row of dignitaries waited beside the white carpet, greeting each guest who funnelled through. The Hawk presented me to various palace functionaries, whose names I promptly forgot in my nervousness, and then we were on to the royal family.
Lord Kellith and his Lady stood beside his sister, the queen. The siblings shared the same white-blond hair and icy blue eyes.
