Frost (Frost and Nectar #1)(44)

This was what people wanted, apparently—access into our world. To feel like one of us.

And as much as I hated it, I’d do what I must to keep the Seelie fed and happy.

My thoughts wandered as the humans bustled around me, setting up lights and attaching a microphone to my indigo suit.

I sipped the wine again, my gaze flicking to the door. The producers hadn’t told me which woman I’d be meeting with first, and I found myself hoping it would be Ava.

Had they told her what to expect today? She was supposed to cook for me. It was ridiculous. A fae queen did not cook—royals had people to do that for us. Nor could I imagine Ava cooking, considering she seemed keen on takeout.

I needed to get my mind off her. How, exactly, had I let Ava get under my skin? And why? There was the way she looked, of course—that beautiful pout, her large eyes framed by black eyelashes, her perfect body…the way her heart raced when I got close to her and her cheeks flushed.

But many fae women were beautiful, and they hadn’t set up home in my mind like she had. Maybe I craved a woman who didn’t give a fuck that I was the king. And then there was the fact that she seemed to be at war with herself over her desire for me, which made me want to do the filthiest things possible to her, to hunt her through the forest until she gave in to her lust for me and stripped off her clothes— Of course, I couldn’t crave her too much, so I clamped down on those thoughts hard and shoved them away.

As the door opened at the far end of the hall, I found myself staring at Moria. She really did know how to draw the eye to herself.

She wore an ivory column of a gown. Her burgundy hair, threaded with vibrant wildflowers, was a sharp contrast to her creamy white skin. I stood as she crossed the room, the cameras panning to take in her elegant movements as she glided over the floor like a wraith.

She looked so much like her sister…but I couldn’t afford to think about that now.

Instead of food, she was carrying a bottle of wine. Moria slipped behind the table and took a seat next to me.

I sat up straight, trying to ignore the cameras pointed directly at me. “Thank you for joining me, Princess.”

She smiled. “I am delighted to see you again. We are old friends, aren’t we?” She lifted the wine bottle. “Servant? Open this.”

A male servant scrambled from the shadows, brandishing a corkscrew.

“You couldn’t really expect me to cook, Your Majesty.” She leaned on her hand, smiling at me.

“What a ridiculous thing.”

“I only expected your gracious company.” Once, I’d felt remarkably comfortable around Moria.

But now, I only felt the sharp-edged blade of guilt.

“Well, that’s not all I brought, of course. The wine is from a vineyard that has been in my family for thousands of years. At one point, it belonged to Queen Melusine, one of my ancestors.”

“Your family history is truly noble.” Noble…and full of a long history of blood drinking. Which, frankly, gave me pause when it came to the wine, though I could hardly turn it down.

“I’d love to show you around our castles sometime, Your Majesty. And the vineyards in the Dearg Due lands.” Moria smiled. “I’ve heard that you are remarkably skilled at archery on horseback. Is that true? We must hunt together.”

“I love horses.”

The servant poured two glasses of wine and slid them across the table.

She lifted her own wineglass, leaning back in her chair. “Hunting is my absolute favorite. I practice every afternoon. I have the most beautiful horse, Nuckelavee. Unlike the other princesses, I ride and shoot as well as a male fae. I am quite discerning in my judgment of other females, and I have heard you are as well. It’s why you haven’t yet married, is it not? You have discerning taste.”

“I have exceedingly high standards.” Namely, I cannot be around anyone I might love.

Was I making a mistake with Ava, then?

No—she’d made her opinion of me quite clear. For someone in my position, it was strangely liberating being around someone who didn’t respect you at all.

A pretty, rich douchebag… It’s all fake.

Moria’s gaze sharpened, and I realized she must have sensed I hadn’t been listening.

I raised my eyebrows, encouraging her to keep going.

“For my part,” said the princess, “I do not adjust my opinions of accomplishments to accommodate the weaker sex. A female High Fae must be as skilled as a male in order to impress me.

She must ride and shoot with perfect accuracy. She must have exquisite knowledge of the fae classics.

She must be free of any scandal or public disgrace, of course.”

“Of course.” What was she saying?

She stifled a laugh. “Any grotesque displays of public inebriation and vulgarity, for example, would strike someone off my list. I would never expect to find you in that state.”

If she’d seen me two weeks ago while planning this event, she’d never say that. And after today, I fully expected to be a drunken mess. But I was expected to be pleasant and charming here. Boring.

“Quite right,” I said blandly.

Then I wondered if I’d just conspired with her in publicly insulting Ava.

“An impressive woman must have a voice like a siren,” added the princess, “and she must be classically trained on the harp. But beyond all that, she must be graceful and elegant, regal in her bearing, and a brilliant and witty conversationalist. Of course, hardly anyone meets that description.