Grave Destiny (Alex Craft, #6) - Kalayna Price Page 0,56

shields, looking at the mushroom ring through the planes. I couldn’t see the magic in it—I rarely saw Faerie magic—but I could feel it. I could probably break whatever enchantment was keeping me inside. Of course, I might do a considerable amount of damage to myself and Faerie in the process, so breaking the mushroom ring should probably be reserved for absolute necessity. Which left me with either stubbornly standing there or going inside the damn flower hut and granting the king his conversation.

I sighed but chose the higher road. I walked over to the tent and stepped inside.

As with most things in Faerie, there was more to it than it appeared from the outside. The small round table where the king sat should have taken up most of the space if the inside had matched the dimensions of the exterior. Instead, the table sat in the entry. Beyond it was a small pond that held the most enormous lily pad I’d ever seen and that I suspected was actually a floating bed. I shot a scowl at the king, but he only held out the glass to me again.

The king had lost the deerskin vest at some point, leaving his tanned and muscled chest bare. It was a nice chest, maybe even one of the better I’d seen, and I looked because he obviously wanted me to, but it really wasn’t doing anything for me. Nor was the come-hither smoldering look he was watching me with. Not so long ago, a casual romp with a handsome stranger would have been greatly welcomed. After all, he was attractive and clearly interested. Plus he was warm and smelled like sunshine, so it should have been easy to give in. But while his beguiling magics made my thoughts feel a little slow, a little trusting, they didn’t inspire lust.

If he’d kept using his enchanting glamour to make me think he was a great and kind king, he might have gotten somewhere—he’d already caught me up in it a few times. But the amorous vibe he was emitting now? It wasn’t working. He was a fucking Faerie king. I did not want to get tangled in that. My love life was already a trainwreck. There were two very attractive men I had genuine feelings for but whom I couldn’t have. Then there was my apparent and unwanted betrothal to the Shadow Prince. Nope. My dance card was full. Besides, I was realistic enough to know that while I was an attractive woman, I couldn’t hold a candle to some of the women I’d seen fawning over him earlier, especially not after a long day that had already involved raising two shades.

I took the glass he offered, but I did not sit and I did not drink. “Talk.”

The king frowned. I was pleased to see he looked far less charming when he wasn’t smiling.

“You are surely aware that a fae planeweaver has not been seen inside Faerie since the time of legends,” he said, after it became clear that I wasn’t going to throw myself at him.

“I have heard as much.”

“I am the oldest seasonal monarch, and they were long gone before my birth.”

I just blinked at him, waiting. I doubted he was risking the winter and shadow courts assuming he’d kidnapped me to talk about legends.

The king shifted in his seat, and for the first time, he actually looked uncertain. “After the courts discovered you, I asked our lore keepers about the planeweavers. The planeweavers of legend were rumored to have been capable of many amazing and horrible things. They were said to have been able to reshape the very structure of Faerie.”

“It sounds like you know more about them than I do.” It was probably true, and why I was looking for a teacher. Talking to some of these lore keepers might be a good idea as well.

“It is said,” the king said slowly, drawing out the words, and I got the feeling we were finally reaching the point of this history lesson, “that as well as weaving magics together, planeweavers could unravel magics that were otherwise unbreakable. Even magical bindings.”

I waited. Saying nothing. Committing to nothing.

The king watched me for several heartbeats. Then he lifted his glass and drained the pixie brandy in one long sip.

He set it down and stared at the now-empty glass. Then he took the one I’d abandoned and drained it as well. When he was done, he looked back at me. “I would take you into