Fires of War (War and Deceit #4) - Erin O'Kane Page 0,97

I also know that by refusing the gown it would cause more issues than it was worth, right? Surely there can’t be any harm in wearing it? It’s only a dress.

As if he can read my mind, Naril shakes his head, frowning fully now. “You know what he’s doing by making you look like that, right?”

Suddenly feeling naïve, I touch the goddess mark on my left wrist, tracing the symbol with my finger, something I do when I’m anxious. I have to fight the urge to back away from Naril, and instead, glance over at my mates for confirmation of what he’s saying. Grayson is standing apart from the others and is the closest to me, his face set in a scowl. He had been the most vocal about me not wearing the dress, so I know it must be difficult for him to have to agree with the elf.

Tor is leaning against the bed in his tribal outfit, the same one he wore to the ceremony when I was accepted into the tribes. He looks relaxed, and I know the tribes’ view on clothing is much more lenient. Vaeril and Eldrin are standing together with matching expressions of frustration and anger.

“Naril…” Eldrin snarls, stepping forward when he sees my expression. He places his hand on my lower back, and I instantly feel grounded as he glares at his twin.

“No, brother, she needs to understand what’s going to happen in there,” Naril retorts. He’s right. Beyond being my friend, one of the reasons Naril’s so useful to me is his knowledge of court life. However, there is a slight note of apology in his tone as he returns his attention to me. “You look beautiful, but you look dangerous.” He emphasises the last word before continuing, “You look like a sex symbol. You’re going to walk into that ballroom with their enemy on your arm, dressed in a risqué outfit. We all know it’s not true, but from their point of view, you’ve turned their magicians against them.” A growing sense of dread fills me as he speaks, gesturing from me to my mates. “If things go badly and you don’t come to a deal with the king, whose side are the people going to be on?”

I realise he’s right and I’ve walked right into the king’s trap. By bringing my mates with me, I’ve shown I’m happy to ‘consort with their enemy.’ Then by having the magicians as my protectors, I essentially flaunted to the entire city that I’ve taken away their warriors. If Naril is right and this dress is being used as a statement, then we’ve played right into the king’s hand. Cursing, I look wide-eyed at my mates as I run through my options in my mind. Eldrin purrs low in his throat, pressing against me as Vaeril drifts closer, needing to comfort me.

Blowing out a breath, I turn my attention back to Naril. “So I should refuse the dress? I should change?” The decision seems simple now. If the dress is going to be the catalyst in this whole situation, then I just won’t wear it.

“No, refusing the gift would be unwise too.” Grayson sighs, his frustration evident, reminding me of our earlier conversation. “Wars have been started over less.”

“Let me in, elf, so I can see what all the fuss is about.” Revna’s voice sounds from behind Naril in the hallway, frustration and humour evident in her tone. The elf huffs a laugh and moves from the doorway to allow my aunt entry. Her gaze instantly falls on me, her eyes widening slightly for a second before she quickly blinks, a critical expression taking over.

Humming low in her throat, she looks at the others and shrugs. “A dress is a dress.” She turns back to me, and a slow smile spreads across her face, her eyes lighting up. “She looks like a queen.” Her awed words send a thrill through me that I don’t understand. I’ve never wanted to be a queen, I’ve never wanted to have any position of power, so why did I feel that way when she said that?

Sharing a look with Naril, Revna reaches into her cloak and pulls something out of a small bag she had tied to her waist. “We have something for you.” Pausing, she holds the object in both hands, suddenly seeming…hesitant. Raising her eyes from the item, she meets my confused gaze, and I realise the hesitation is actually excitement. Whatever this gift is, she’s