𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)

Seventy-One

The water was calm and soft as it flowed against itself. I wasn't sure if it was Tarquin who had willed it to tranquility, but the pleasure barge had hardly rocked at all in all the hours we'd been drinking on it.

    It was crafted of the richest wood and gold. The boat was filled with a hundred or so High Fae, trying their best not to observe every action Rhys, Amren, and I made.

    The main deck was decorated with low tables and lounge chairs to relax as everyone sipped their wines. On the upper level, underneath a large canopy of colorful tiles, our table had been set. Tarquin was very much summer incarnate as he sat in turquoise and gold, bits of emerald scattered across his outfit, casting small shimmers as the last dregs of light hit them. A crown of sapphire and white gold sat on his white hair, fashioned like cresting waves.

    It was quite the jewel. So exquisite even my eyes were drawn to it.

    Tarquin turned to me on his right, catching me staring at it. His lips turned to a small smile. "You'd think with our skilled jewelers, they could make a crown a bit more comfortable. This one digs in horribly."

I was here to find the book. And here, sitting in front of me, was a jewel Amarantha would have loved. How, indeed, did he keep it out of her hands? And had he done the same with the book? "How did you keep it out of her hands?" I questioned, voicing my thoughts aloud.

    It felt rude to speak such a vile name such as Amarantha's in front of such careless and happy people.

    Seated on Tarquin's left sat the bane of my existence, deep in conversation with Cresseida, of all people. I wondered if her conversation was as bland as her threats. Why on earth converse with her of all people?

    He frustrated me incredibly.

    We hadn't spoken since earlier. I didn't care. I wasn't here to talk to him.

    Tarquin answered my question, "We managed to smuggle out most of the treasure when the territory fell. Nostrus—my predecessor—was my cousin. I served as prince of another city. So I got the order to hide the trove in the dead of night, as fast as we could."

    Amarantha had killed Nostrus after he'd rebelled.

    I lied, "I didn't know the Summer Court valued their treasure so dearly."

    Tarquin huffed a laugh, "The earliest High Lords did. We do now out of tradition, mostly."

    I grinned at him, my best show of curiosity as he gave me small bits of information. I crafted my words carefully, "So it is gold and jewels your court values, then?"

    "Among other things." he replied. Vague. Purposefully, vague.

    An idea struck my mind. "My father was a merchant in the mortal lands. I admit, I've always been fascinated with treasures like the ones you speak of." I spared him a nostalgic smile, "Are outsiders allowed to see the trove? I'd love anything that would remind me of my family."

    What do men want?

They want to be heroes. A male's greatest weakness. There is nothing more compelling to a man than a vulnerable woman. The instinct to swoop in and save me from whatever caused me distress was a basic interest for any human or Fae male.

    I looked down, winding my hands together as I forced my features into a slight sadness before I looked back up at the High Lord of Summer, giving him a fake sweet smile.

Tarquin's eyes were fixed on me. He grabbed one of my hands, drawing my eyes back to his as he gave me a reassuring smile. "Of course." he agreed kindly, "Tomorrow, after lunch, perhaps?"