That final statement was so unexpected that I couldn't keep the surprise off of my face. What?

Lord Yllavar made a satisfied sound and leaned away from me. "I thought not," he murmured, turning us and heading back towards the ballroom. "You might consider asking him to show you, if you would truly like to experience horror, your highness. I doubt he'll offer to reveal his little secret on his own."

I could practically feel the satisfaction oozing off of him as we re-entered the light and sound of the ballroom. One last wound to inflict on Dain before he left; one little poisoned barb that I knew would fester under my skin. The fae lord had found the chink in my armor, pitting my desire not to take anything from Dain that he didn't want to give against the knowledge that the secret he'd been keeping all along was what he truly was.

Consent against curiosity. I felt like a girl who'd just seen her boyfriend's phone get a text message from someone named 'xoxo': knowing it was wrong to look, but hugely tempted, nonetheless.

He turned and bowed to me again, with that same glinting look in his eyes. "May you enjoy your evening and your remaining days in Faery, your highness."

"Safe travels and a warm welcome, my lord," I replied in kind, though I knew my face gave away my turmoil.

The fae lord merely smiled like a fox again, and left me there without another word.

For a long moment I stood there, staring at the space where he'd been, before I turned away. My eyes automatically went to Dain's throne, and found it empty. Well, he'd been spending a decent amount of time at the revels talking to courtiers from the Court of Mercy. Probably that's what he was up to still.

My feet started wandering without me telling them to, and I knew it was because I wanted to at least look at Dain. Lord Yllavar had been completely wrong about why I looked at my prince. He was such a comfort for me to see, a piece of solid ground, familiar and gorgeous and mine.

You are so fucked, Leah, I sighed to myself.

The sound of his name caught my attention, and I moseyed in the general direction of that conversation, until the words resolved through the music. A little cluster of courtiers from the Court of Mercy stood together, Dain just beyond them, his back to me as he spoke to one of the lords.

"They've been together for more than three hundred days," one woman said, mocking laughter in her voice. "Can you imagine? Apparently he's not even worth hating."

"What did you expect, though?" a lord asked in return, his voice low and purring. "The man might as well be an animal. He played one well enough, at our King's feet."