Page 19
“And the sithe’s stability,” she adds.
“Yes.”
“At least you’re honest about using me.”
“Amalia—”
“When this is done,” she interrupts, “when we find Elionn, will you give your word that I can leave?”
My lips part, but she holds up her gloved hand.
“Before you answer, understand this. I killed the last man who took away my freedom, so be careful of any lies you’re about to spin.”
“You are not our prisoner,” I say with care. “If you wish to leave, it is your choice.”
She studies me as if searching for deception. “That’s a very princely way of promising nothing.”
“I am not a soothsayer with the future laid bare before me, and I will not make a promise now that could cost me my life later.”
She snorts, but her shoulders relax. “Your tongue should be silver with how prettily you spin words.”
“My tongue is good for more than words,” I tease, which earns me a heated stare.
“I think I like you best when your tongue is occupied.” Amalia buckles the vest, the silver-thread embroidery marking her as a member of the Silver Sithe’s retinue.
The pale fabric only emphasizes the dusky hue of her skin, a clear sign she’s not a child of the moon.
Theron and I had discussed a different glamour, one to lend her the appearance of a Silver fae, but should she lose the ear cuffs, her appearance would be that much more obvious.
Also, in different clothes, she could blend in with the wildlings of the Dark Sithe. It will make it easier for her to slip away and search for my brother.
Still, the idea of her catching the Dark King’s eye unsettles me.
“Under no circumstances should you reveal that you are fae-touched.” I circle to adjust the clasp at her shoulder, so it sits flush. “And take care not to use magic in front of the wrong fae. My king’s protection will only go so far once you are outside our borders.”
She does not flinch at the warning. “I can protect myself.”
“Against the powers of space?” I shake my head as my hands fall away. “You are strong, but if they suspect the truth of your blood, they will not care what must be broken to claim it. Better to stay hidden.”
Her mouth tightens. “That’s the plan.”
I wish we had come up with any other plan. But Theron believes this is the only option we have left, and I agree with him. If we are to bring Elionn home, we must put Amalia in danger.
She tugs on her boots and, as she straightens, the polished buckles catch the first threads of dawn’s light through the shutters. “What should I expect? More royal assholes with superiority complexes?”
A laugh escapes me before I can contain it. “More like excess, debauchery, and no sense of shame.”
I pass her the glamour cuffs that she had placed on the nightstand before we tumbled into bed. “The fae have a saying. The lesser the point, the more human the vices.”
“The point?”
I touch the tip of my ear. “The Dark Sithe and the Earthen Court are the only sithes with round ears. They pride themselves on it, claiming it’s proof they’re more adaptable.”
Amalia studies me as she slips on the cuffs, and a subtle shift happens in her appearance to give her the illusion of a wildling. “You’re not too pointy yourself.”
Heat creeps up my neck, turning my skin a faint purple. “By Silver Sithe standards, my proportions are quite ordinary.”
“By human standards, they are anything but.” Her fingers work through her thick, black hair, weaving it into a simple plait, and I resist the desire to take over, to adorn her in jewels and stones until her dark tresses shimmer like a night sky.
