Black Magic Shadows (14 page)

"You look smashing, boss." Or ready to start smashing, as his smile disappeared when he refocused on Thorandryll.

"We have something to discuss, sir. My office, tomorrow at ten."

"O-of course, my lord."

"Ooh, can I come too?" I really wanted to be there when the boss ripped Prince Snooty Pants a new one.

"Certainly." Mr. Whitehaven patted my shoulder and left, but not without narrowing his eyes at Thorandryll.

I giggled. "You messed up good."

"He does appear displeased."

"You think?" The champagne was going straight to my head, giving our surroundings a mellow glow. "Wow, really swanky."

The ballroom looked larger, and so did the crowd. I wasn't the only woman present who'd chosen simple over glittering when it came to a gown, which made me feel better. Of course, everyone else's "simple" probably cost four times what my ensemble had, but I decided it wasn't worth worrying about.

The floor was black and glossy, the walls white, and golden-edged niches displayed paintings or statues. Six white columns held the ceiling high above our heads. I looked up to find a mural decorating the ceiling, of elves, their beautiful white horses, and black and tan hounds rushing through a forest.

Whatever the painted figures were after wasn't visible, to my relief.

"You like it?" Thorandryll placed his hand on my back, a little too close to my rear for comfort. "It could be yours."

My laugh turned heads. "Seriously? Didn't we already agree that wasn't happening? Like, ever?"

"You made a statement to that effect. I hardly agreed," he said, his breath warm on my ear. "You should reconsider. Such a match would be quite advantageous for us both."

"Yeah, right. Hey." He'd taken my glass of champagne. "I wasn't done with that."

"We're expected to begin the dancing. I do hope you can waltz."

Crap, looked like more "center of attention" was in my immediate future.

––––––––

B
y just after nine, my feet hurt and I'd lost all hope of remembering a single name that didn't belong to anyone I already knew. I was also slightly drunk from sipping champagne between turns around the floor.

Fortunately, a servant announced it was time for dinner, and the exodus from ballroom to a grand dining hall took less time than I'd have thought, with so many people.

Thorandryll's theatrics weren't limited to the ballroom. Our table, a long rectangle topped in dark green, bountifully laden with vases of flowers and gorgeous place settings, dominated the end of the hall.

All the other tables were round, and spaced comfortably apart to fill the rest of the cavernous space. The floor was green marble with glittery streaks of gold, the walls golden panels decorated with flowering vines.

No columns here. They would've blocked the view of the head table. Thorandryll seated me on his left, and I nodded at Queen Maeve, who sat to the right of his chair.

Alleryn slipped into place on my left. "Enjoying yourself?"

"You betcha. I've thought of a dozen ways to murder your prince since we arrived." I slipped my shoes off, having noted the tablecloth reached the floor in front. The cool marble felt fantastic against my poor feet. Heels weren't my usual choice for footwear.

Alleryn chuckled. "He has been flaunting you."

"'S alright, because I'm sure the boss is going to flaunt him about the head tomorrow." I leaned to look past him. "Where's Kate?"

"Seated with the rest of your friends from work."

He used his chin to indicate where I should look. Their table was halfway across the dining hall, not quite center. I checked the tables around them, to find the lions and tigers sharing one, and at another, a quad of people I vaguely remembered having been introduced to as cougars sat with Patrick, Nick, and their parents.

How had I missed running into them? I turned to Alleryn when Nick's head rose and began to turn in my direction. "What are they doing here?"

"My prince extended invitations to all the city's leaders." He gave a slight shrug. "We didn't actually think they'd all accept."

"Is he looking at me?"

"Nick? Yes."

"Great."

Thorandryll touched my forearm, and I turned to find him leaning toward me. "I'll have him ejected if his presence offends you."

"No, don't do that. Everything's cool." I could deal, to avoid Nick being embarrassed, and his father causing a scene.

"As you wish." Thorandryll stood, collecting a small golden bell, and rang it twice. Conversations stopped, leaving the hall entirely silent. "Allow me to extend my appreciation to you all for attending tonight."

I tuned out as he gave his speech, peppering it with words like "grand" and "momentous". My stomach quietly growled to inform me it wanted food, but I couldn't do anything to fulfill its request.

No big surprise that Thorandryll loved the sound of his own voice, and managed to speak for a good ten minutes before sitting down to overly enthusiastic applause.

I poked Alleryn in the ankle with my toes. "What time is it?"

"Nine-twenty-three."

"Argh."

He chuckled. "We'll eat, and return to the ballroom by eleven-thirty. Bit more dancing, drinking, and mingling before a midnight toast."

"Can I go home after that?"

"Oh, you poor dear. People won't begin to take their leave until two. No one will want to be the first, or the last, to leave."

I sighed. "I volunteer to shoulder the burden of being the first to go."

An appetizer had appeared, some sort of beautifully presented fowl. "Ooh, food."

Alleryn laughed, but I didn't care. I picked up the proper fork an instant after Thorandryll did, and tried to forget some people were slyly watching us.

"I need this recipe," I said after my first taste of the squab.

"You cook?" The question came from Maeve.

"Yes, ma'am. It's my hobby."

"Interesting." Her tone indicated cooking was beneath her, but she was Queen of the Unseelie. Probably didn't even know how to boil water. At least not on a stove.

"I'll see that you receive the recipe," Thorandryll said.

"Thanks."

Logan's calm mental voice sounded in my head.
How are you holding up?

Better now that there's food.

Have you noticed that Nick's here?

Yeah, Thorandryll offered to kick him out. I said no.

That was a nice decision.

It's not like I hate him.

I know
, Logan said before changing the subject.
Any chance you have room on your dance card later?

I hid my smile by taking another bite.
If my feet have recovered, you're on.

I'll pray for their recovery.

"When do you plan to make the announcement?" I heard Maeve ask.

"The negotiations aren't complete," Thorandryll answered. What were they talking about?

"It's necessary to complete them quickly."

Exasperation sharpened his reply. "She's not exactly open to the thought."

"Then make her open to it."

"Mother..."

"Or I will." The ice in her voice made me shiver. Who were they talking about? I noticed Alleryn watching me, his expression as smooth as a mannequin's.

Uh-oh. They were talking about me, weren't they? All of Thorandryll's comments tonight...was she the reason he kept harping about us becoming a couple?

Something wrong?
Logan asked, startling me.

Why?

You felt scared there for a second
.

I needed to pay attention to whether or not I shut down links after mental conferences with people.
Just overheard something I don't like the sound of.

What?

Have to tell you later. Maybe if it's not too late, you could come over for coffee after this shindig?

Sure.

Okay. Talk later
. This time, I made certain to cut off the link, while putting my fork down.

"Cordi?" Alleryn murmured.

"What?"

"Do you want more wine?"

A perfectly innocent question, yet I immediately wondered if he was trying to get me plastered. People had a tendency to make terrible decisions under the influence. "Actually, I'd like to switch to water."

He smiled, and lifted a hand to summon a servant. "Lady Discord would prefer water with her meal."

"Yes, my lord."

"I would too," Alleryn said, with a sly wink for me. I felt bad for suspecting him of conspiring against me. Then again, he was an elf and had been Thorandryll's healer long before I'd come into the picture.

Looking back at my plate as the servant switched our glasses, I discovered the second course had arrived. It was gazpacho, garnished with green onions and a dab of sour cream.

In sixth grade, Tina Baines had given me the unwelcome nickname of Cordi the Pig during lunch one day. I'd spent two miserable weeks "dieting" in an effort to lose the baby fat tenaciously clinging to my cheeks, stomach, and thighs.

Ginger told my mom about it, after hunger made me cranky enough to yell at her. Mom had immediately called a family council, during which both parents repeated their advice about not allowing other people's words to change my perception of my physical appearance. They'd also pointed out I hadn't even hit puberty yet, and that I'd see big changes once I did.

They'd been right, because puberty had struck the following summer, and I'd started 7th grade 6 inches taller, lean, leggy, and pretty self-conscious about two new additions that required my first real bra.

Absolute vindication for me, after the misery of 6th grade, because Tina and her clique hadn't given up their name calling. Nope, they'd tripled their efforts to shame me because I enjoyed food.

Luckily, they hadn't shamed me into an eating disorder, and I still loved food. More at that moment than ever, with a small bowl of gazpacho awaiting transfer to my stomach.

Forget scheming elves. I had a sumptuous meal ahead of me, and was going to enjoy every bite.

After that, there was an excellent possibility I'd want to meet the chef and beg for cooking lessons, judging by the first courses.

The fish course was halibut garnished with tiny flowers and pearl onions. It took all my self-control not to moan my way through it and the following courses, from the lemon-basil sorbet to the absolutely sumptuous baked meringues drizzled with a reduction of cherries, rosewater, vanilla, and topped with dark pink rose petals.

I ate every bite, busy planning a way to kidnap Thorandryll's chef, because I obviously knew jack about cooking.

The prince waited until I'd finished dessert before asking, "Was everything to your liking?"

"I really want to meet your chef," I said, wishing I had seconds of desert. "I need to worship."

Thorandryll's smile made it clear he was about to respond with another pushy remark, and he did. "He could prepare all your meals in the future."

"Why do you have to keep bringing that up?" I leaned closer, lowering my voice. "I told you I was willing to give being your friend a shot, and would consider a public declaration of alliance. But that's it, all that's on the table."

"So you've repeatedly said, which brings to mind 'the lady doth protest too much'."

My breath huffed out. "Maybe because the man in the equation doesn't seem to comprehend the meaning of 'not gonna happen'."

"I will give you anything you desire." Thorandryll rose from his chair, and helped me out of mine. His eyebrows scrunched. "You seem shorter."

"I took off my shoes." About to duck down to grab them, I stopped when his fingers closed around my hand.

"Allow me." He went to one knee, and I tried to free myself, because damn if it didn't look like he was about to propose. Thorandryll easily kept hold, because I was trying not to make a huge scene, aware that a lot of people were watching, as they left their tables.

He gestured with his free hand, and my pumps slid out from under the table. Placing them in front of me, he smoothly stood, and caught my other hand. "There."

The pointy-eared bastard smiled. I stepped into my shoes, inching closer to him. He didn't back away. I gritted my teeth. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me, but I hissed and his smile widened. He stepped back, releasing one of my hands, and gestured. "The night's not over."

"Dinner is, and that was the deal." I wanted to go home, change into my pajamas, and snuggle with my dogs. I wasn't cut out for the game-playing and the illusions of elven politics. There was no telling what people thought after all of his crap.

"I did clarify 'an evening'."

Had he? I couldn't remember the exact wording.

"Fine, but I won't need a ride home."

Thorandryll tucked my hand over his forearm to lead me away. "It'd be the height of discourtesy for me not to ensure you arrive safely at home."

"A swift kick in the family jewels is more discourteous."

He actually laughed. "Very well."

To my immense relief, Kethyrdryll stopped us at the foot of the ballroom stairs. "My apologies, brother, but my evening won't be complete unless I have the honor of a dance with Lady Discordia."