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But Roark held up his hand, eyes widening. “You’re going to be the death of him tonight.” He grinned and extended an arm. “I promised I’d get you to court, but I need to stop in the lobby and speak with the guards on duty.”
I nodded, looping my arm through his as the lump in my throat swelled. Maybe Lach planned to pawn me off on everyone else this evening, starting with his penumbra.
“Let’s take the old-fashioned way.” Roark pressed the down button on the elevator panel. The doors slid open instantly, and he held an arm out to keep them open. “After you.”
I was holding back tears as I stepped into the compartment.
Roark surveyed me as he punched the button for the lobby. “Want to talk about it?”
I lifted a brow in surprise at his offer. We’d never spent a lot of time together, so either my feelings were written all over my face or Lach had told him why he would be chaperoning my arrival to the Nether Court this evening. I wasn’t sure which option sounded worse. “Just wondering if Lach hates me after what happened with Channing this afternoon.” Or, rather, what had happened after.
“Hate?” He chuckled softly. “I don’t think Lach is capable of hating anything about you.”
My heart jumped as I considered if he was right. Finally, I gulped. “I don’t understand how he balances it all. The magic, the shadows, the pressure. I can barely handle one confrontation with my brother without wrecking everything.”
“Lach fucks up plenty,” he promised me. “But our world is light and shadow. We are light and shadow. They are the very elements of our magic. One cannot exist without the other. It is in every one of us. We have to embrace the balancing act even when it feels impossible. It’s harder for those who sit on the throne. The light is stronger in those courts; the shadow’s stronger in ours, in Bain’s. As Lach’s penumbra, I’m supposed to help him with that balance. Help him decide what choices he can live with and pray he’s never forced to make one that he can’t. But, really, it’s all any of us can do, and if we’re very lucky, we will find someone who helps us choose the right path and loves us when we don’t.”
I sucked in a breath at the implication of his words, at the intensity of the stare he pinned me with as though he was passing some invisible torch and waiting to see if I would accept it.
“I’m not sure I’m enough,” I confessed as the elevator arrived on the lobby floor.
Roark pressed the button to hold the doors closed. “He thinks you are, and even if you aren’t, he wants you anyway.” He offered me a small smile. “Besides, that balance and acceptance bit works both ways, princess,” he added with a wink.
I swallowed, digesting what he’d said. “Thank you.”
“It’s my job to look out for him, for both of you.”
I cocked my head, realizing that maybe that was why Roark had been keeping such a close eye on us. “Is that why you’ve been…interrupting us?”
He smirked, reminding me so much of Lach that my heart hurt. Had they perfected that look together over their lifetimes? “You two were in way over your heads.” His grin widened as I gaped at the fact that he would admit it. “Chaperoning you was all part of the job.”
“But you stopped. What changed?” I needed to hear it from him, the person who knew him best, the shadow that was always watching and weighing.
He released the button, allowing the doors to slide open, but as he stepped to hold them for me, he whispered, “The way you two look at each other.”
I stewed over his answer while he spoke with the guards stationed in the lobby. I was still thinking about it when we nipped to the Otherworld, arriving outside the Nether Court’s ballroom.
The ballroom had been divided into four sections, each adorned with decorations that venerated the unique magic of an individual court. Tables and chairs had been placed for the visiting courts’ respective guests. The light courts mingled on one side of the hall. The Astral Court’s attendees were gathered around high-top tables and seats swathed in a palette of purples and blues as nuanced and lovely as the night sky that glittered above them. Stars sparkled over their heads, and as I watched, the moon at the center of the enchantment shifted slowly between phases, from waxing to full to waning again. The space next to them was covered in shades of pure ivory accented with gold. Starbursts illuminated the center of each table, lighting the faces of the Hallow Court fae as they visited with one another.
And on the far side of the ballroom, across from the light courts loomed their shadowed opposites. Crimson textiles hung over gold-lacquered chairs and tables, smoldering and flickering like fire. Even the members of the Infernal Court seemed to dance with the dark energy drawn from the molten magic that flowed below us.
But it was the final corner that beckoned me. Flowering ivy wove around the gleaming black chairs stationed in rows, the Nether Court requiring more seating than the others. But its darkness didn’t hide the fae assembling there. Instead, the shadows wrapped around them, promising safe haven, shifting and clinging like those twisted vines.
Roark guided me to a seat in the front row of the Nether Court section before claiming the one next to it. The lights dimmed overhead and a hush fell over the assembled guests as a door opened to the ballroom.
Bain strode down the aisle that divided the Infernal and Hallow Courts. He was dressed in all black save for a slip of crimson silk tucked into the breast pocket of his tuxedo. The darkness of his attire accentuated his cold, chiseled features, and with his silver-white hair, he looked like he had been cut from ice. When he reached the open space in the center, another door on the opposite side of the room opened. Ciara and Lach stepped into view.
My friend had chosen a gown more demure than her usual style. Its ivory silk draped her loosely, gliding over her curves. It gathered in a twist at her throat. Ciara wore no jewels, and her face was fresh with only a pale blush swept over her cheeks and a slight shimmer of gold dust on her skin. She’d worn her hair in loose curls that cascaded down her back. She was astonishing, but it was the fae at her side who stole my breath.
Lach’s classic tuxedo was cut to fit his muscular torso, the savage, hewn body beneath the fabric impossible to ignore. He’d slicked back his dark hair, showcasing his beautiful face and those glowing eyes. But his gaze was vacant, as haunted as I’d felt since this afternoon’s argument.
The pair walked more slowly than Bain, as if both dreaded each step. Lach had mentioned that Bain suspected Ciara wasn’t enthusiastic about the betrothal. Few would suspect after tonight. Most would know. But somehow Lach looked even less thrilled about the situation.
“Why is he going through with this?” I whispered to Roark. Looking up, I found his jaw clenched.
Roark’s eyes followed Ciara, his voice low and strained when he answered, “Lach calculates his choices through suffering and loss. How much others will suffer, who deserves to suffer, who will lose, and what he can live with. But one person always suffers, always loses the most. He accepted that a long time ago. I think you were the first selfish decision he ever made.”
I couldn’t look away from Ciara’s serene face or the fear shining in her eyes. “Can he live with this?”