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Chapter Nineteen BETWEEN THE ELEGANT BALL GOWN AND THE ENORMOUS STAIRWELL, I FELT like Scarlett O'Hara descending the grand staircase at Tara. Dozens of people stood in formal attire at the landing below. Sipping from crystal glasses while they mingled, the crowd slowly moved toward the double doors off the main room. Had I not known they were Fae, I would never have suspected the guests were anything but human— aristocratic humans at a fancy retro costume party—but humans, nonetheless. Several sets of eyes were drawn my way as I approached the last few steps. Could these people tell I was different? Had they been informed of my presence? Would they care? Does it matter? You’re stuck with them regardless. I sucked in a deep lungful of air and merged with the crowd. We wound our way through a large set of double doors into an enormous dining room. Elegantly crafted crystal chandeliers hung from soaring paneled ceilings with matching crystal sconces lining the walls. Still-life paintings, portraits, landscapes, and any number of other subjects adorned the walls in the hundreds. A single long table that seated what had to be nearly one hundred people filled the middle of the room. Pristine silverware sets were arranged around sparkling white dinner plates. Down the center of the table, among dozens of silver serving dishes, were grand candelabras and opulent bouquets of fragrant flowers. Without realizing, I had stopped in the middle of the entrance to take in the room’s grandeur. I was not brought back to the present until a man spoke softly near my ear. “Let me escort you to your seat.” The man extended his elbow. He was about six feet tall with light-brown hair swept to the side and dark coppercolored eyes. Relief brought an easy smile to my face. I would have had no idea where to sit with so many options. I gladly placed my hand on his forearm, and he led me to the far end of the room where an opulent gold armchair presided over the table. I should have known I’d be stuck sitting with the queen. Holding back a grimace, I followed the man to the chair just left of the queen's. I gave him a quiet thanks for his help before he took a seat several places down on the opposite side. All at once, the crowd stood. The room instantly grew hushed as the queen approached, her head held high and shoulders back in a statement of supreme authority. Once she rounded the table to her chair, she gracefully bowed her head. Her subjects took their seats, resuming conversations as if they had never been interrupted. I bowed my head to the queen as she sat in her demi-throne, unsure what else to do. It was clear she wanted no question as to who was in charge, so any sign of deference seemed a safe bet. As soon as she was seated, hordes of servers appeared, placing small plates of food with a savory aroma on top of the charger plates in front of each guest. Those around me took their utensils and began to eat with relish. However, Ashley had told me that under no circumstances was I to eat Fae food. But refusing dinner with the queen seemed a grave insult. Indecision held me motionless. “Go ahead, girl. There is nothing to fear in eating the food at my table,” the queen said as she raised her glass of wine to her dainty pink lips. My chin dropped in acknowledgment, but my eyes again wandered until they met with the eyes of the man who had walked me to my seat. He held his fork out meaningfully and placed a bite of food in his mouth, keeping his eyes fixed on mine the entire time. I took a deep breath and picked up my fork to place a bite in my mouth. Rich flavors that I had never experienced burst across my tongue, and my eyes fell shut in pure delight. When they reopened, the man still watched, but this time the corners of his mouth hooked upward in a smile. The food was indescribable. Course after course, I gorged myself until I could not eat another bite. I hadn’t touched the food Cyrene had brought, so I’d entered the dining hall starved. Throughout the meal, the man glanced in my direction periodically. I rarely caught him engaging with anyone around him. Near the end of the meal, my curiosity got the better of me, and I turned to the queen. “Who is the man in the gray jacket just down there?” I motioned with my fork down the table. “We do not discuss any matters of politics at dinner,” she said with a dismissive tone before continuing. “You and I shall walk the gardens after the meal is done. We will talk then.” I hadn’t considered my question to be particularly probing, but I wasn’t going to argue with the queen. Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long before the queen rose. On her mark, the rest of the guests stood. She motioned for me to join her, and with all eyes on us, we strolled the length of the room and beyond to the formal entry. The gardens were lit with an ethereal light emanating from Faery lanterns. They hung throughout the area, casting a soft blanketed glow on the landscape. Every now and then, I caught a glimpse of what I initially thought were hummingbirds flitting about but quickly realized were tiny Faeries tending to the plants. They moved too quickly to get a good look at them, but I could tell they had gossamer wings the full length of their bodies. “Are they pixies?” I found myself asking. “Yes. They are useful in the gardens but can also be quite an annoyance. They do not let their small stature hinder their demands and expectations.” Her wry sense of amusement intrigued me. The Faery queen maintained a seamless image of power, but she was a woman just like any other beneath it all. She was more than just her station in life, and I was curious about that side of her. “I have to say, I can hardly wrap my mind around the fact that I'm walking in a garden with Queen Guinevere. That you're real—you, and Arthur, and Merlin, and the rest. I could never have imagined that there was truth in the old stories.”
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