Frost (Frost and Nectar #1)(45)
Excluding your sister, Orla, of course, but I can’t think of any others.” She sighed dramatically.
“There is you, of course.” I sipped the wine, fully aware I was supposed to say that. Moria had always delighted in flattery, and I’d always indulged her, like a younger sister I wanted to please. But now? It was desperation to make up for what I’d done. “Of course, I may add another crucial item to your list. She must be a ruthless fighter who is willing to do whatever it takes to win.”
I’d meant this as another compliment for Moria, but as I said it, an image blazed in my mind—a stunning and ferocious fae with violet eyes and cheeks rosy in the cold…
The princess’s cheeks glowed pink, and she touched my arm as she spoke. “I see we share the same worldview, Your Majesty. We are well matched, indeed.”
Distantly, a bell rang, which I understood to be the end of our tête-à-tête. I rose, bowing slightly.
“Thank you, Moria. I always enjoy our time together.”
As Moria glided away, servants bustled about, clearing the table again.
And already, Etain of the Leannán Sídhe, a type of female fae known to break a man’s heart, leaving him a shell of his former self, was crossing into the Great Hall. There are males in her clan, too—the Gean-Cánach—though they keep their distance from me. Etain’s hips swayed as she approached. She carried a bowl of cherries, and she smiled at me from under her eyelashes. Her violet and apricot hair cascaded over her bare shoulders, and her black gown hugged her curves.
When she sat next to me, her knee brushed my thigh. I stared at her mouth as she popped a cherry between her lips and pulled out the stem. She was speaking to me, but my mind kept drifting back to last night, sitting under the oak with Ava—until Etain put her hand on my thigh.
“I really don’t give a fuck what other people think,” she said, her hand moving further up my leg.
“I take what I want. And if I want to fuck a king on a table, I don’t really care who’s watching.”
Heat followed in the wake of her touch, but I was imagining Ava saying those words to me, thinking of her full lips against mine. I’d pressed her against the tree, my beautiful and wild captive, the sound of her heart racing, her breath hitching, music to my ears.
I struggled to keep my composure. In the presence of a Leannán Sídhe, my thoughts were aflame with desire. I was thinking how Ava would look naked in the curling steam of a hot lake, imagining how her bare skin would taste. She hated me, but perhaps, if I could make her moan my name anyway — What was wrong with me? Apparently, I only wanted someone who loathed me. Even with this absolutely gorgeous woman sitting close to me, gripping my thigh, my thoughts were on the fae who’d called me a fake twat, making it clear she hated men.
Interesting.
Maybe this was because deep down, I hated myself.
“The other fae here are fucking insane,” said Etain. “You see that, right? I’m a lover, not a fighter.”
The show’s host stepped in front of the camera, smiling. “Apologies for the language, folks.” He laughed nervously. “But the fae can’t be controlled, can they? And that’s why we find them so fascinating. Now, King Torin has chosen another princess as his next date—Princess Cleena, a clear frontrunner in these trials. As part of these dates, we’ve asked the women to bring an item of food to the king. In fae tradition, a queen is responsible for managing the castle’s kitchen.”
He looked to the side, frantically motioning for someone to take Princess Etain away. As she left, Etain lifted her middle finger at the camera.
“Now, in the human world, I’d get in trouble for saying that we want women to stay in the kitchen these days.” He adjusted his cufflinks, chuckling. “Apparently, I’m not allowed to call them the ‘good old days.’” He laughed a little too loudly as the doors opened once more and Princess Cleena entered.
She was truly beautiful in a daffodil-colored dress that perfectly flattered her dark skin. Sparkling makeup shimmered over her high cheekbones.
She crossed to the table, moving languidly. Just as I was used to being obeyed, it was clear that Princess Cleena was used to being admired.
The reporter said in a low, awestruck voice, “Princess Cleena of the Banshees is widely considered to be the most beautiful fae princess of the last century, and she is here representing the Banshee clan. Now, let’s just hope she doesn’t scream at me, because we all know what that means.”
He grinned. “It means death.”
She sat next to me and smiled. “It’s so nice to see you again, Your Majesty.”
“It’s nice to see you again, too, Princess Cleena.”
She sighed. “I had something made for you, Your Majesty.” She beckoned to someone off camera.
“I have it right here.” A servant scurried over with what appeared to be a miniature version of a wedding cake, covered in a gold dust. “Gold is my favorite color.” She beamed at the cake. “It’s made with caramel layers.” She smiled at me for a moment before returning her attention to the cake.
“If you don’t eat it, I will.”
She picked up a fork, which, frankly, impressed me. She’d come here with a delicious cake, and she was going to eat the delicious cake, and she didn’t really give a fuck what I thought.