Forever - Chanda Hahn Page 0,58

looked around the Great Hall.

A small Fae light spun in circles to get her attention, signaling her to follow it. It led her up the stairs and down an empty hall to a large storage room. The beast followed her, always a few yards back.

The Fae light zipped into the locking mechanism, and the lock grew brighter from within. A loud click followed, and the door swung outward to reveal darkness.

The Fae light pulled on a curtain, and a few seconds later, the room was bathed in light. Mina gasped. It was like walking into a museum. There were tapestries, paintings, and statues all carefully stored on swinging racks or marble shelves.

She took her time walking among the paintings and studying each and every one, while the yeti waited in the hallway. Quite a few paintings depicted the Fates at various celebrations or events.

Mina paused when she came to one in particular. Teague was obviously happy, excited about something. The joy, deep in his eyes, made her wish desperately that she knew how to make him look that way again.

The painting showed his betrothal ceremony.

She remembered that day. The artist had captured the moment perfectly. Teague stood in front of the twelve girls who would take part in the choosing ceremony. Most of the girls’ faces were hidden, since the painting portrayed them looking up at Teague, but Mina could easily recognize Ever’s long black hair, Annalora’s gold-blonde locks and her deep amber dress. She smiled when she recognized Dinah’s beautiful tanned skin and dark green hair. But there was one girl who wasn’t looking at the prince, one girl whose head was slightly turned toward the painter, and he had captured her worried expression as she looked for an escape route. She wore an elegant white dress of moon crystals and feathers. The painter had centered her in the painting, the only one of the twelve whose face was visible.

And it was also obvious that the prince was looking straight at her. Even now, Mina’s stomach filled with butterflies at seeing his reaction to her.

“This one. I want this one in the throne room.” Mina pointed to the painting.

The Fae lights carefully entered and took the painting out.

Mina paused and moved to the next painting—another of the ceremony, although she couldn’t remember when it took place. Teague stood in the middle, with the final four girls on either side of him. Most of the girls were smiling and trying to appear as regal as they could. Only Mina, next to Annalora, looked as if she wanted to be somewhere else. And once again, Teague was staring at her over Annalora’s head. It was obvious that the artist had figured out, before everyone else did, the story being played out. He could see the feelings Teague had for her.

The next portrait made her step back. Teague’s Royal engagement portrait. He stood tall and proud, his face lacking the joy so obvious in the earlier paintings as he held the hand of his future bride. It wasn’t Mina.

Teague held Ever’s hand.

She stopped, unable to look at any more. She wanted to run out of there and hide from all of her mistakes. How could that painting be true? The artist had captured so many moments of the choosing, but this seemed out of place. Ever hadn’t made it to the tower. Mina had.

Maybe she wasn’t supposed to make it.

Mina was confused and taken aback, and then she was filled with guilt again.

She pushed back her feelings and moved on to the next painting—another engagement portrait. But this one featured Teague and Annalora. Curiosity pushed her to keep moving the frames, and she wasn’t surprised when she noticed a third depicting Dinah and Teague. Three engagement portraits painted for three possible outcomes.

Longing to see her own portrait with Teague, she searched the whole room top to bottom. It wasn’t there. Puzzled and a bit annoyed, she moved on with her original task and picked some tapestries. She chose fantastically colored pieces featuring the woods, mountains, and valleys—the life of the Fae world.

Then Mina came to a section that housed the thrones, and the yeti joined her. She studied the various matching sets of ornate chairs and saw some inlaid with gold, others with diamonds and gems. But none of them fit Teague. Then she spotted a dark ebony chair with a deep blue cushion. She could make out fine engraved detail in the wood. It was masculine but not flashy.

“What do you