“I wouldn’t poison you,” Arbor said with a tinkle of a laugh. “It’ll just loosen you up.”
“I’ve had enough faerie punch to know what that means. And I’m not sure loose is what I should be right now.” Because if she lost a grip on Felicity, then Kerrigan would come out, and she was sure that no one here would quite like that to happen.
Arbor came in close, running a finger down her ear until she was practically whispering. “People will talk if you’re not drinking. Sip it, and I’ll replace it throughout the night. Trust me. Fordham does.” Then, Arbor giggled. “These ears are just so odd.”
She traipsed away, crashing back into her brother and the Fae woman he was courting.
Kerrigan took a breath and drank from the goblet. It was delicious, like fresh strawberries. She had to be careful not to down the entire contents.
“What are you drinking, darling?” Fordham asked then, reappearing at her side. His eyes were storm clouds. The only part of him that made him seem ill at ease.
She leaned into him, looking down at the drink in hand. “Punch.”
His finger came to her chin, tilting it up until she looked him full in the face. Her heart pounded at the contact. Gods, she’d barely had any of the drink, and already, she could feel the effects coursing through her.
“And who gave you this punch?” he commanded with all the bristling power in his voice that made her knees wobble.
“Arbor.”
He plucked the drink from her hand. “Do not do anything without my express permission.”
Kerrigan gulped, suddenly feeling like she was on fire. “Yes.”
“What was that?” he asked, dangerous and cold.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Better.”
He dragged a finger across her painted lips and turned away from her, leaving her standing there, bereft, with everyone watching them.
She wished she’d had the drink to cool herself down. It should have been humiliating. It would have been if she’d let herself think on it for more than a second. But mostly, she was wondering where in the gods’ names he kept that carefully bridled command when he was away from court.
“So,” a voice said next to her—another Fae woman dripping in diamonds—“you’re the one he chose.”
Kerrigan didn’t say anything.
“Who knew he could replace Dacia so easily?” the woman mused. Then, she laughed. “Look at your wide-eyed gaze. Gods, the half-Fae are so unbalanced. Dacia was the last girl that he courted, and he’s moved on already.”
Courted? Well, of course he’d courted someone before. She wasn’t sure of his age, but based on their discussions, she assumed he wasn’t as young as she was. Fae could live incredibly long lives. Some only beginning to fade after one or two thousand years. But this woman had made it seem recent.
“You’re adorable,” the woman said, laughing with her friend. “She thinks that he cares for her truly.”
“And after Dacia, of course he went to something easier that he didn’t have to care about,” the friend said. “The poor prince.”
Kerrigan’s face flushed at the words. She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t help it. She’d prepared for half-Fae jabs … not this. Something that hit a little too close to home. Fordham had been with someone else, someone everyone here even knew about, and yet he couldn’t be with her? Was the curse even real? Or was she just someone he’d used to get over the last one?
She took a step back from that thought. This place was vile. It was clouding her judgment, and she couldn’t even show anyone the truth. Without a word, she whirled away from the women and went in search of Fordham. Their laughter trailed behind her, and she blocked it out. But Fordham wasn’t in sight. Where had he gone?
“Hey,” Prescott said, appearing then. “Breathe. What happened?”
“Nothing. Just… I don’t know.”
“Breathe again. Fast inhale, slow exhale.” She took a deep breath as Prescott put his arm around her. He laughed at nothing and gestured to where Fordham was standing with Wynter. “This can’t be easy.”
“It’s fine. These women just brought up… Dacia?”
Prescott stilled, suddenly looking so much like his cousin. “Did they?”
“Yes, but …”
“Don’t say that name to Fordham.”
“But …”
“Listen, Kerrigan,” he said, leaning his face into her neck, as if he were nuzzling her. “This is as hard for him as it is for you. We all play our parts here.”
As much as she wanted answers, she needed to bury it for now. It wasn’t going to help them get through the evening. Maybe she should have had more to drink so that their words couldn’t touch her.
“You good?”
She nodded.
“Good, because Fordham is gesturing us over.”
Kerrigan’s gaze met Fordham’s across the room. He looked ever like the imperious prince. She’d learned to read him over the weeks that they trained and worked together, but from here, he was utterly blank. If even she couldn’t guess at his thoughts, then no one else would be able to either.