Gleam (The Plated Prisoner 3)

> Murmuring goes on inside me.

And there—a dark, quiet voice.

Remember.

Midas’s palms rest steadily on the balcony. “There is one such beloved queen,” he says, gaze passing over the hundreds of people below. “In fact, she is here tonight.”

He motions toward the opposite end of the room, and everyone turns to look where Queen Kaila stands up from the throne, hand cupped as she gives a proud wave. She looks striking in a deep blue dress, yet with a glimmering gold crown on her head woven into the loops of her black hair. I squint my eyes, flicking my attention from the familiar crown to the fur shawl around her shoulders, to the shell necklace around her neck. All gilded.

The things Midas touched against my arm.

“I am pleased to announce that Queen Kaila of Third Kingdom and I have decided to wed!”

My brows pull together. Midas is remarrying, but...I knew that. I knew, and I didn’t care, because...because...

The crowd gasps and claps, the sound rustling in my head like running through dry leaves, every step another whoosh of air, another crinkle and snap beneath bare feet.

And those feet take me right to Slade.

My heart stops when my gaze lands on his dark presence standing in the middle of the colorful ballroom, like a pitch-black pupil in the middle of a multi-colored iris. He doesn’t see me, but I see him, and it’s enough.

It’s enough.

The wavering, drifting boat of my mind yanks to a stop, suddenly grounded by his anchor. My grip closes around dandelion seeds. The tumbleweed stops its roll. Ripped paper fuses back in place. A last drip of water settles at the tip of a stalactite.

A head of feathers lifts up in my chest, a beast of anger blinking both eyes open. And that’s when she turns, spreads her wings, showing me a tail full of feathers that stream down like golden ribbons.

Ribbons.

My breath catches. My back throbs.

I bring my trembling hands to come up and ghost over my back. My aching, empty back.

Remember.

I do.

Everything suddenly comes rushing in. It’s a barrage of rain that floods my mind and roars in my ears. Or maybe that’s the anger that just awoke, shaking off the groggy drug with a grind of a fang-filled beak.

Midas’s voice rises, competing with my own internal noise, and the crowd is eating up his announcement like sheep eating grain right from his hand. They don’t see that he’s no shepherd. They don’t see the predatory teeth. “I will bring the prosperity of my power, not only to Sixth and Fifth Kingdoms, but to Third as well. With the union of Fifth Kingdom and now my betrothal to Queen Kaila, we will take care of our people, and as the Golden King, I will bring Orea into a Golden Age!”

A clamor of applause breaks out, and Midas drops his hand at his side, pointing his finger covertly. His signal. The one for me to put on a demonstration to perfectly end his pretty little golden speech.

But I don’t move.

At the lapse of a second, his eyes cut over to me. “Gold-touch the railing,” he orders, speaking from the side of his mouth, but I still don’t do it.

Maybe it’s my fae heritage that allowed me to burn off the dew, or maybe it’s something else, but either way, I’ve cut through the last of the haze with a billowing breath.

Midas’s face darkens for a split second before he flicks a look back down at the crowd. He says something to finish the speech, making up for his lack of a flashy presentation of turning the mezzanine gold. They laugh at whatever he said, not noticing anything is amiss, but then, he’s always been good at charming a crowd. At charming me.

He used a silver tongue against a golden heart, and the glint of his lies dimmed every truth I knew.

Midas steps away from the railing, away from the crowd’s eyes. It’s only in private that he ever shows his true color, and it sure as hell isn’t gold.

The music starts up again, going along with the mingling voices and clinking glasses. There are hundreds of people down there. Slade is down there. But up here, in the shadows of the mezzanine, it’s just Midas and me.

Creases of anger line his forehead as he bears down on me. “What the hell was that, Auren? I explained what I needed you to do. It was fucking simple. You’ve completely ruined my golden speech!” he exclaims, brown eyes gone as dark as flooded dirt.