The Gilded Fae (Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods 2)

I offer him a wry smile. “Are you afraid of me now?”

“No.” He grins. “Should I be?”

“Hmmm…” I cannot lie. “Probably.”

He responds, but I don’t hear him. We’ve stepped into the house, and the stage lies in front of us, larger than I expected and so grand.

The lamps have been dimmed, giving off just enough light patrons can find their places, but spotlights shine upon the heavy curtains. They’re scarlet, just like the ones in my memory.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, taking in the ornate space.

The theater is divided into three seating sections, with two aisles separating them. The floor slopes toward the stage, giving all the patrons a clear view, even those in the back. Three levels of balconies encircle the space, stacked right on top of each other and supported with white marble pillars. They contain additional seating.

On either side of the stage, there are curtained rooms in the leveled galleries, holding only a few elite patrons.

At the front of the theater, framing the stage, is a marble proscenium arch, masterfully carved with whirls and delicate curves.

“It is rather beautiful,” Frederick says with a chuckle, escorting me to our seats. “I suppose I’ve always taken it for granted.”

We end up toward the front, right in the center. The orchestra sits at the foot of the stage, playing a soft piece as the patrons take their seats.

Frederick leans close once we’re settled. “Look at the ceiling.”

I turn my eyes up, and my breath catches. It’s painted like a sunset, with soft blues and clouds of blushing pink, fading toward twilight purple. Stars dot the evening section, and in the lamp-lit theater, they seem to glow.

It’s just like my first experience with human arts—it feels like magic. A different kind of magic, one that touches the senses instead of the physical world. It’s a feeling—the quickening of your heart and excitement building in your chest.

Suddenly, the music crescendos, and the house lights fall.

It’s beginning.

* * *

I standwith the others in the audience, applauding as the performers make their final curtain call. People gather at the edge of the stage, giving the prima donna so many bouquets, her male counterpart must help her carry them all.

What would it be like to receive the crowd’s admiration for a part well-played and not simply because you’re destined for a crown? The memory of my sole time on a stage comes to mind, making the experience bittersweet.

I’ve dreamed of this day for five years, and now it’s over.

And though it was foolish, I’d hoped to see Alex perform tonight. All day, I wondered if he’d be up there, stealing my heart just as he did when we met.

But this isn’t the only theater in Davon, much less Valsta, and who knows if he’s performing these days. He could have left the kingdom altogether, off for bigger and better things.

“What did you think?” Frederick asks as we filter out of the house with the others. “Did you enjoy it?”

“It was spectacular,” I say. “I wish it wasn’t over already.”

Frederick laughs. “The show was three hours long.”

It still wasn’t enough.

Frederick said another show will begin in just a month, but I won’t be in Davon to see it.

“Shall I take you backstage?” he asks, offering me his arm. “I can introduce you to our prima donna and let you meet the rest of the cast.”

Shaking off my gloomy thoughts, I say, “I’d like that.”

Frederick escorts me up the side steps and through a door that leads backstage and into a brightly lit hall. Several of the chorus members gather in a group, talking amongst themselves.