Seven Black Diamonds (Seven Black Diamonds #1)(13)
On the outside of the tower was another staircase, this one minded by guards. The visitors’ staircase was to be used by everyone other than the royal parents, any siblings, and her betrothed when there was one. Those few fae could walk on the spiral staircase inside the glass tower.
“I’ll meet you at the—”
“No.” She turned away and began ascending the steps as she added, “You shouldn’t visit so much now that you’re seeking a bride. It wouldn’t be proper.”
“Proper?” Torquil’s voice was as cold as she’d ever heard it. “You’re lecturing me on propriety?”
Eilidh’s temper flared, not as brightly as her mother’s did but enough that she was forcefully reminded of her parentage. She wasn’t surprised. He was fae, after all, but he’d been her only true friend in this world. That earned him a fair warning. Softly but steadily, she told him, “I’ve been the queen’s daughter, surrounded by machinations my whole life, while you were out being free. Don’t try to challenge me.”
“You sound very Unseelie right now, Patches,” he charged.
He stared at her as she stood halfway between one step and the next. In that moment, she thought that this was good-bye, that her dearest friend was about to be lost to her forever. That would’ve hurt, but not as much as what he next did: Torquil started up the spiral staircase.
“I’ve decided not to wait, after all,” he said. “I’ve made my choice.”
He strode up after her, and she wanted to run—or perhaps shove him backward.
Behind her, behind him, there were gasps. No one could have heard his words, but his actions spoke like a declaration. Only the royal parents, siblings, or her intended could walk up those stairs.
He was not her family.
“Back up,” Eilidh said desperately. She spun so she was facing him. “This isn’t funny. Go back! Go back now.”
“No.” He continued up the stairs, stalking after her. “The queen said I could chose anyone. Anyone.”
“She didn’t mean me! I’m not agreeing to this. Stop it this instant, Torquil.”
He laughed. “And when has a princess been allowed to select her own groom?” He was on the step next to hers. There, in front of her, he kneeled and stared up at her. “Shall I tell the queen or would you like the honor of letting her know that we are betrothed?”
Eilidh swallowed hard. Words wouldn’t come. She looked away from him, staring through the walls of her tower at the growing number of faeries clustering around the building. They stared at her, as they often did, but this time she saw surprise, envy, and anger in their expressions.
“What have you done to me? To us?” she whispered. “What have you done, Torquil?”
six
ZEPHYR
The semester was starting finally, and Zephyr’s team would all be back on campus. When Zephyr arrived at his suite, he found a not surprising note that both his suitemate and his best friend had already left for a bar, so he dropped his bags and headed into town.
Belfoure was an overcrowded maze of streets and shops. It was one of the strongest cities on the Eastern seaboard. Crime there was at a record low, and the pollution levels were among the lowest in the country. Generous donations from the families of St. Columba’s students no doubt kept it that way. The school was home to children from some of the wealthiest families in the world, those who graced the pages of magazines or screens because of their own talents . . . or, as in his case, because of a parent’s talents.
“Waters! Hey, Zephyr!” a salesman called out as Zephyr paused to wait for the traffic light.
This was it, the start of the future he’d been waiting for. He’d trained, and he’d readied himself, studying essays and treatises, paying attention to politics and laws of the Hidden Lands. All the while, he’d concealed those habits from all but his closest friends and become the person that best fit his role in the human world: spoiled, sardonic son of film legends.
Tonight he was going to see his friends, pretend to drink heavily, and flirt outrageously. He’d either leave with a girl whose name he didn’t bother to learn or he’d cuddle up to his best friend, Alkamy. He would, in essence, be the person that he was assigned to embody as his cover—and he’d enjoy it. That was the trick to the game: enjoying the lie you lived, finding the pleasure in it. Zephyr enjoyed a lot of it.
The bouncer at the front of the Row House didn’t even blink when Zephyr skipped the line. When school was in session, he was a fixture here. There were still a few regions where a drinking age was set, but the majority of the continent had eliminated that law well before Zephyr was born. That didn’t mean that he ingested poison, but he’d learned young how to pretend. It was a part of the role he lived, part of how he hid his true genetics. The fae-blood, those with any portion of fae ancestry, couldn’t drink alcohol without being weakened by it. Zephyr had never consumed more than the one glass of it he’d been ordered to drink to get a sense of the way it hurt. That was enough.
He couldn’t understand why Creed drank—or how he endured it.
Shaking away thoughts that would lead to a fight once he saw Creed, Zephyr paused so a cute girl could snap a picture of him. It wouldn’t be useful to go to the club without being seen doing it. The headmistress at St. Columba’s didn’t comment on the plethora of photos that cropped up online or in magazines proving that Zephyr routinely ignored the rules about leaving campus. Headmistress Cuthbert was a fan of minimal conflict and maximum donations. Neither Zephyr nor his teammates—Alkamy Adams, Creed Morrison, Violet Lamb, or Roan Kenrick—ever caught hell for flaunting the rules. Not surprisingly, the four of them were often in the same pictures with Zephyr. It was only their friend Will Parrish who stayed clear of the club and the cameras.