Ivette pulled uncomfortably at her golden sleeve, wondering, as she had every day since arriving in El Dorado, how the members of the Seelie Court could be comfortable wearing such gaudy clothing. Within an hour of her arrival several weeks earlier, she’d been shown the Court’s “hospitality.” Attendants had directed her to the chambers she would occupy throughout her stay, and while she’d stared at the lavish silk bedclothes and the mirror made of solid gold, she’d caught sight of the attendants eyeing the simple black gown she’d arrived in with distaste.
She was ready to leave. In the Unseelie Court, she was a noblewoman, and though her rank came nowhere near that of the Seelie princess she’d been sent to see, she was respected at home. Here, Ivette was certain she looked as out of place as she felt wearing an ornate monstrosity of a gown with a flowing skirt and a gemstone-embellished bodice. Her people didn’t rely on gold and jewels to convey their power. Their magic was their power, and anyone who knew of them knew to fear them for it.
“My apologies for keeping you waiting.”
Ivette looked up at the sound of the smooth, melodic voice from the doorway. Her breath caught in her throat. No matter how hard she tried to deny it, Princess Liliana was the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. Her hair fell in black waves that seemed to shine even when the lamplight didn’t touch her, and her smile was brighter than the gold that plated the palace’s rooms. Her iridescent wings were tucked neatly behind her, and a blue bellflower was pinned just above her left ear. Her eyes were a deep brown, and her gown, which was inlaid with far more jewels than Ivette’s, seemed to float around her when she moved. Ivette’s cheeks burned—she was sure the princess had noticed her staring.
“It’s no trouble,” she said. Her throat was dry. She reminded herself why she was there. She was the delegate sent from the Unseelie Court to oversee negotiations with Liliana over their territories’ borders. Specifically, Ivette’s queen wanted to push for Unseelie control of Monte Roraima, a matter on which Liliana didn’t seem willing to budge. She’d expressed concern for the humans who had settled in the surrounding area if the Unseelie were to take over, and though Ivette hated to admit it, she knew the princess was right to worry. The Unseelie Court didn’t concern itself with the welfare of humans unless it could take something from them. Queen Adela was more likely to curse them than to attempt coexisting with them, and the rest of the Court agreed with her.
Ivette was supposed to observe Princess Liliana. To report any weaknesses she might have—anything that might be exploitable. She was supposed to stay as long as she needed to in order to finalize negotiations and pass on the information she gathered on the princess, and she’d been authorized to offer whatever Liliana wanted for Monte Roraima, within reason. The trouble was that Liliana had stopped wanting to discuss the trade at all within the first week of Ivette’s stay. She’d remained polite, but she’d taken to inquiring about the welfare of Queen Adela and the rest of the Unseelie royal family, trying to persuade Ivette to relax and enjoy her time in the Golden City instead of making any offers that Ivette could use.
The longer she spent in the princess’s company, the harder Ivette found it to focus on her mission. She wanted to ask her a thousand questions more interesting than what could be traded for a mountain—she wanted to know everything about this woman whose people seemed to adore her. Since her arrival, Ivette hadn’t heard a single negative word about Liliana. Even the palace staff seemed to worship the ground beneath her feet. But anytime she grew close to letting her guard down around the princess, she reminded herself that every Seelie shared one trait: their disdain for Ivette’s people.
Ivette couldn’t show vulnerability to this woman. No matter how charismatic or beautiful she was.
“Would you like a drink?” asked Liliana. “Something to eat?” She drifted to the table along the wall, which bore more varieties of fruit and bread than Ivette had ever seen in one place before she’d arrived in El Dorado. The food was surrounded by pitchers of drinks in a rainbow of colors. The princess had wanted to meet in her study, as she often did, and though Ivette knew the books and maps lining the shelves would be of much more use to her than a piece of bread or fruit, Liliana didn’t seem to care.
“No,” said Ivette. Her own people often laced their food with magic, and she knew better than to trust their enemies not to do the same. “Thank you,” she added hastily.
Liliana sighed, lifting a green mango from an overflowing basket. She turned the fruit over in her hands. “I keep hoping I’ll find a way to make you comfortable here.”
Ivette blinked. Over the past few weeks, she’d met with the princess at least once a day, but Liliana had always remained formal. Distant. Now her wide brown eyes were downcast, studying the mango she held, and though it looked like she was trying to hold her magnetic smile in place, she was failing. Ivette’s stomach lurched.
“I… I’m comfortable,” she said. “I appreciate your hospitality.”
For an instant, Liliana’s smile brightened again. “I’d love to believe that. I hope I haven’t done anything to earn your distrust. I know relations between our people haven’t always been ideal, but I truly want to fix that.”
Silence hung between them for a moment, and then Ivette pulled in a deep breath and stepped forward. Her golden gown felt too heavy as she moved, but when Liliana’s eyes flicked up to her face, and the princess’s smile returned in earnest, Ivette felt lighter than air. Liliana held out the mango to her, and she took it.
By the time night had fallen and she no longer heard footsteps patrolling the hallway outside her borrowed chambers, Ivette still hadn’t managed to get the princess’s face out of her mind. Their hands had met for only a second as the fruit had passed between them, but that small touch had sent electricity up Ivette’s arm. She’d pulled back quickly, unwilling to let Liliana see her react.
Stop it, she ordered herself as she paced the cold floor of her bedroom. It’s ridiculous. There was no way Liliana had felt anything at that moment, and Ivette told herself she had no business hoping otherwise. She was there to observe Liliana and pass information about her on to the Unseelie queen, not to think about how beautiful she was or to try to impress her. Besides, even if by some small chance the princess had felt something too, she would never be permitted to act on it. She was royalty. The idea of her being with an Unseelie would be unspeakable to her people.
Ivette paused in front of the dresser, bracing her hands against its smooth metallic surface, and mentally shook herself. She inhaled and rolled her shoulders backward, drawing herself up to her full height. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the dresser, and as she looked into the reflection of her black irises, her pointed ears, and her grey wings, she thought for what had to be the thousandth time that she would never fit in here.
She moved to the door and pressed her ear to it, and when she heard no one nearby, she slipped out into the hallway, closing the door behind her quietly. She retraced the steps she’d taken to get to Liliana’s study that morning, glancing over her shoulder every few paces to ensure that she wasn’t being followed. She could easily cast a glamour to disguise herself if the wrong person were to find her out of her assigned area, but the Seelie had a habit of moving much more quietly than Ivette’s people. She wasn’t certain she would know until it was too late.
As she passed solid gold statues of the princess and the pair that had to be her parents—Ivette had yet to meet them; she doubted they wanted to negotiate with an Unseelie themselves—she wondered what it would’ve been like to grow up there. As the daughter of a noble family, Ivette was raised with wealth, but her family found value in expensive weapons and potion ingredients rather than in lavish decorations. Still, she’d studied enough of her people’s history to know that when the two fairy sects had divided the continent a millennium earlier, the Unseelie had resented that their territories yielded much less gold.
Ivette paused outside the door to the princess’s study, casting another glance over her shoulder to find that she was alone in the hallway. Her pulse raced as she laid her hand on the knob, and when it turned, a thought flicked through her mind of how the Seelie were far too trusting. She crept into the study, which was lit by a dim lamp resting on a desk opposite the door. At the sight of a familiar face in her periphery, she froze.
“Can’t sleep?”
Ivette’s pulse pounded in her throat. She turned to face Liliana slowly, excuses flooding her mind. Liliana still wore the extravagant golden gown she’d had on that morning, and Ivette wondered how she could be comfortable in it. The princess watched her with a dark brow raised, but there was no anger in her eyes. Only curiosity.
“I’m sorry,” said Ivette. “I—I was—”
“You were sent to do more than discuss Monte Roraima?” Liliana offered.
Heat rushed to Ivette’s cheeks, and she folded her arms across her chest, suddenly wishing she’d worn more than the flimsy golden nightgown the Seelie had provided her. The princess already saw straight through her, and she didn’t need another reason to feel vulnerable.
“Please, sit.”
Liliana turned away and started for one of the chairs in the corner, and for the span of a heartbeat, Ivette wondered what would happen if she ran for the door instead. She sighed. Squaring her shoulders, she followed the princess and took the chair beside hers, settling onto the edge of the plush white cushion.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered.
“Don’t be.” Liliana folded her hands in her lap, and even then, her every movement was delicate. Elegant. “You’re not the first to try to pass information to the Unseelie Court. You are, though, the one who held out the longest. I appreciate that.”
Unable to continue looking at her, Ivette scanned the room. The table that had been drenched in food and drinks that morning was almost empty, though one pitcher of green liquid remained. A cup of the same drink rested on the end table on the other side of Liliana’s chair. Now that she thought about it, Ivette hadn’t seen Liliana eat any of the food that had been laid out. She wondered whether any of it had been for the princess or whether it had all been part of Liliana’s attempt to make her comfortable.
“Is that why you’ve stayed so long?” Liliana asked.
Ivette returned her focus to the princess’s face. For the first time, hesitation lurked in her eyes, along with the slightest hint of worry.
“It was my duty to my people,” said Ivette, her fingertips skimming absently along the fabric of her skirt. “I meant no disrespect to you, Your Highness. My queen is desperate to bargain with you, and she thought if we had more information about what you might need—”
Liliana’s face fell, and Ivette’s heart missed a beat.
“I see.” Disappointment had crept into the princess’s expression, and Ivette wondered what answer she had expected. The hint of a blush colored Liliana’s light brown cheeks, and all at once, Ivette understood—or, at least, she hoped she did.
“It’s not the only reason I stayed.”
Liliana met her eyes again, and when she didn’t look away, Ivette slid closer in her chair. Liliana held still, watching her, the worry slipping slowly from her face. Ivette laid a hand against the princess’s cheek. Her skin was so smooth that Ivette wondered for an instant whether magic kept it that way, but she realized she didn’t care. She leaned closer and kissed Liliana gently. The princess let out a soft sigh and laid her hand on Ivette’s shoulder, and as she kissed her back, tenderly at first and then with increasing passion, Ivette’s fears deserted her. Liliana rested a hand on her waist, pulling her closer, and her heart flew into her throat. For the first time since her arrival in the Golden City, there was nowhere Ivette wanted to be more.
