Frost (Frost and Nectar #1)(22)

I walked the edges of the hall, keeping to the shadows. Great tapestries hung on the stone walls, and my gaze roamed over the verdant scenes, the forests and gardens embroidered before me. As I stared at the exquisite art, I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Hey, Ava.”

I turned to see Shalini and smiled at how gorgeous she looked. The loose T-shirt had been replaced by a sleeveless silk jumpsuit in rose gold, like my dress, but somehow far sexier. Especially with her sleeve tattoos on display. With her plunging neckline, it was hard not to stare.

“Madam Sioba said an advisor should wear a suit, but she didn’t object to a jumpsuit.”

“You look amazing!”

She looked down at herself. “Are you sure?”

“Would I ever lie to you?”

Shalini brightened. “No. You’re totally shit at lying—” Shalini cut short, catching my elbow.

“Ava, look.”

She pointed through the crowd to small group of fae women at the far end of the hall. Far more opulently dressed than the women near us, they wore gowns that glittered with pearls and gemstones.

Instead of wreaths of flowers or leaves, they wore small silver crowns.

“The princesses,” said Shalini breathlessly. “There are six of them, each from a different clan.”

She started to pull me toward them, skirting the main crowd of contestants.

I wasn’t going to speak to them, as instructed. But I found myself following. These were the women I was supposed to beat.

Though apparently, Torin would do everything in his power to help me win, since he desperately needed someone…unlovable. I tried not to get too offended by that thought, since the man hated everything.

Shalini stopped short again, catching my arm, and I followed her gaze.

On the other side of the princess clique stood a small group of humans—the news crew who’d accosted me outside Shalini’s apartment, now with a brand-new camera. The reality show host spoke excitedly to the camera, gesturing at the princess we’d met earlier. “And the woman in the magnificent dark gown is Princess Moria, the eldest of the Dearg-Due. We will have to keep a careful eye on what she drinks this evening.” He raised an eyebrow, giving the camera a knowing look. “As we all know, the Dearg-Due prefer a fluid of the sanguine sort.”

My eyes widened in surprise. She drinks blood?

The reporter sucked in a sharp breath as another beautiful fae princess crossed in front of him, wearing a shimmering golden gown that accentuated her black hair and rich mahogany skin.

Motioning for the camerawoman to focus the lens on her, he spoke in breathless tones.

“Now, here is Princess Cleena of the Banshees. Vanity Fair has described her as the most beautiful woman on the planet.”

The princess was standing a few feet away, but if she heard the reporter, she gave no indication.

He was right about her beauty, though. Her dark hair hung in beautiful ringlets down her back, but it was her eyes that drew my attention. Widely set and a deep golden amber, they demanded attention.

Princess Cleena’s gaze moved languorously around the room. She was all composure.

When the reporter’s eyes met mine, my breath caught. For a moment, we stared at each other, and then he was moving toward me with a hungry look in his eye.

Torin had glamoured him to forget me—hadn’t he?

“Ava Jones?”

Fuck.

The camerawoman focused her lens on me.

“Now, this is something, our final contestant,” he said. “The whole country watched the conflict between these two in the bar. And boy, did sparks fly! Except I’m not sure they were the right kind of sparks. I think none of us were expecting to see this fiery fae here as a contestant, but this is an interesting turn of events.”

I stepped away, and Shalini touched my back for support.

The reporter’s eyes narrowed, “And who is this with you, Ms. Jones?”

I sighed. “This is my advisor, Shalini.”

He stared at her, nodding. “A human advisor in Faerie. Wow, I bet a lot of people would love to have your job.” He thrust the microphone in her face. “Are you going to keep Ms. Jones in control, or can we expect more fireworks?”

Shalini glanced at me. “She’s perfectly composed. It was just a bad night, that’s all.”

Around us, a murmur was growing, and I sensed that the crowd noticed the attention on us. I desperately wanted to shrink back into the shadows.

A trumpet sounded, saving me from all the attention. The doors swung slowly open at the end of the hall, and a footman stepped into the entryway. He was dressed in an exceptionally extravagant suit festooned in gold embroidery. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said in a booming voice, “dinner is served.”

More food? Fantastic. I wasn’t sure I ever wanted the tournament to end.

The reporter shoved his microphone in my face, asking me what had caused my meltdown in the bar with the king, but I slipped away from him, blending into the crowd. After an entire life as a fae among humans, I’d learned something about the art of going unnoticed.

Embedded in the crowd of taller fae, we crossed into a new hall where tables were arranged in a semicircle around a pair of giant thrones. Constructed from gray granite, they seemed to have grown from the stone floor itself. The floor was white marble inlaid with a magnificent bronze stag. The lofty ceiling was formed of entwined tree branches. Hundreds of tiny, glittering lights flitted among the boughs like fireflies.