These Twisted Bonds (These Hollow Vows, #2)(87)

“You realize what he did this morning, don’t you?” he asks.

I frown at him. “What do you mean?”

“When the shadow king—and do not be fooled, that’s what Finn is to these people—when he kneels before his partner and washes her feet, it’s a very powerful symbol. He’s declaring that you are worth serving, and if he will kneel before you, then they must too.”

I shake my head. “It was just a ritual. It didn’t mean anything.”

“It is a ritual. One that means everything to these people. If you hadn’t been here, he wouldn’t have been kneeling before another female. He chose to show his deference to you as a sign to these people that you are valuable and are to be honored from here forward.”

My stomach flips. “Why would he do that?”

Misha huffs. “I can think of a few reasons, though maybe you should talk to Finn about that. But they would’ve honored you anyway. You killed Mordeus. You’re responsible for breaking the curse.”

As if I need to be reminded. “And for destroying their throne.”

He nudges my side. “Quit thinking about such matters. This is a celebration.” He grabs a glass of sparkling pink wine from a passing servant and hands it to me. “Drink.”

I frown. The last time I drank faerie wine at a party, I ended up drugged and in a shower with Finn.

“Oh really?” Misha says, eyes bright and lips curving.

I glare at him and fortify my mental shield. “Would you stay out of my mind?”

“I like your mind,” he says. “It’s so sweet and charming, and sometimes . . . deliciously devious.”

He takes the wine from my hand, sniffing and sipping it before handing it back to me. “It’s safe to drink, but I promise to take care of you myself if you end up drugged tonight.”

I narrow my eyes. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

The corner of his mouth hitches up in a grin. “Let’s just say I’d be more accommodating than your shadow prince.”

I throw a ball of shadow at his chest, and he stumbles back, still chucking. My cheeks burn. “You are so bad,” I growl.

Misha comes close again, undeterred. “I’ve been told,” he says, “that I’m actually quite good.”

Rolling my eyes, I take a big drink from my wine. Bubbly and subtly sweet, it tastes like crisp summer apples with a hint of sour plum.

“Finish it quickly so we can dance,” he says, watching me tilt the glass to my lips.

I swallow and relish the warmth in my chest. “You want me to dance with you after that? ”

“Trust me. I know my place,” he says. “In truth, I value your friendship too much to ruin it with a night in your bed. However enjoyable that might be. Anyway, I’ve had my fill of chasing emotionally unavailable females.”

My jaw goes slack. Chasing? Did he pursue Amira once? “Do you mean—”

“Don’t.” Misha’s face hardens, revealing nothing. “I don’t want to talk about it tonight. I just want to dance with the prettiest girl at the party.” I melt a little at his flattery, and he sighs. “But since she’s not available, I’d settle for a dance with you.”

I cackle. “What a pest!” I take another sip, if only because Finn is still grinning at Juliana like she’s the most amusing creature he’s ever encountered. My undeniable jealousy makes me question every decision I’ve made since arriving in this realm, and as that’s not a very productive way to spend my evening, I might as well get drunk on Faerie wine and enjoy the dance.

“Thatta girl,” Misha says when I drain the glass. He takes it from my fingers and plops it onto a nearby table before pulling me out onto the dance floor.

The song is fast, the kind of beat that makes me feel lighter—or maybe it’s the wine. Misha positions me at his side and patiently teaches me the choreography. It’s quite simple, but looks gorgeous when everyone does it together. A side step, a shuffle, a cross behind, with some waving arms and an occasional bow, then a quarter turn before doing it all over again in the opposite direction.

Sprites with glowing wings swoop through the air in their own dance, leaving streaks of light above our heads, and soon enough I’m grinning and keeping up with the new steps.

I’m so out of breath by the time the dance ends that I don’t complain when Misha wraps his arms around me and pulls me against him to sway to the slower beat of the next song. The moment I think our position might be too intimate, he leads me into a dip so deep my short hair nearly touches the floor. I laugh as he pulls me up again, and his eyes sparkle with amusement.

“Don’t look now,” he whispers into my ear. “But I think there’s someone here who doesn’t appreciate seeing me dance so close with you.”

I turn my head, but Misha stops me with a big hand on the back of my neck.

“I said don’t look.”

“But I don’t know who you mean,” I say, frowning at him.

He throws his head back and laughs again. “If I really have to answer that question for you, you two may be more hopeless than I realized.”

Finn.

In the next moment, Finn steps up beside Misha and gently nudges his shoulder. “I’ll take the next dance. She’s supposed to be my betrothed, after all.”