Smolder (Crown of Fae #3) - Sharon Ashwood Page 0,1

all the fae—the one true enemy—were the Shades. The turncoat Lord Dorth of Eldaban had sided with the invaders, betraying the Kelthian tribe as well as the rest of the fae resistance. To be fair, it was the only reason his city still stood.

“I can’t blame the townsfolk,” Leena said. “They didn’t choose this fight.”

“They could have refused.”

“And we could have left Eldaban the moment Dorth swore to serve the Shades, but we’ve been glad to have shelter. Healing is how we pay our debt.”

Elodie opened her mouth to protest, but a black cat leaped onto the bench between them.

“Kifi,” Elodie squeaked, clearly startled.

“I know who the general is bringing to dinner,” the cat said in a small, childlike voice.

“Who?” Leena asked. “And what are you doing wandering the streets?”

“Temple cats are allowed to roam,” Kifi replied loftily, settling her sleek form between the two women.

“You are a temple cat in training.” Elodie’s tone was severe. “You don’t have permission to wander the streets.”

Ignoring the comment, Kifi curled her tail about her paws. “Do you want my news or not?”

“Who is Lord Dorth entertaining?” Leena asked, mostly to end the argument.

“General Juradoc, of course.”

He was the leader of the Shade army that occupied the lands around Eldaban. The name made Leena shudder.

“He has someone with him by the name of Morran.” The cat blinked golden eyes. “That one walks like a man with a storm cloud as his crown.”

“What does that mean?” Leena asked. Temple cats could be frustratingly vague, as if that were their job. “And who is he?”

Kifi’s answer was cut short by a loud, throbbing fanfare. The trumpeters had signaled the start of the banquet. Instinctively, Leena sat straighter, her pulse quickening at the sound. Pounding drums followed as the host and his guests paraded in. From where she sat, Leena could see the hall through the partially open door. She glimpsed Lord Dorth, his tunic stiff with gems and golden braid.

The Master of Revels circulated throughout the room, giving the performers their instructions. Tovas was squat and warty, as much goblin as fae.

“Be ready,” he said in a stage whisper, giving Leena and Elodie a wink. “The high and mighty are in a mood. We’ve got to be perfect tonight. Elodie, my sweet?”

Elodie hopped to her feet. She began checking the performers' costumes, ensuring laces were tied and buckles properly secure. There would be no mishaps on her watch.

The acrobats and jugglers were the first entertainment, meant to welcome the nobles filling the hall. They erupted from the room with a shout, balls flying as they somersaulted through the air. Leena’s feet twitched, aching to follow, but her turn would come. When she and Elodie took the floor, they would be the climax, the jewels of the feast, giving onlookers a glimpse of the sacred Flame. Nothing could follow that act.

Kifi crawled into her lap, her slight form surprisingly heavy. “There were portents about this evening. Dire events. I heard it at the temple.”

“Such as?”

“I’m not sure.” Kifi yawned, showing sharp fangs. “I was chasing a spider at the time.”

“You’re a terrible temple cat.”

“I am a perfect cat.”

“And therein lies the problem.”

Leena rose, Kifi draped in her arms, and stood closer to the door where she could see all the guests without being seen herself. The banquet tables formed a vast square along the edges of the cavernous room. The high table, where the dignitaries sat, occupied a raised dais at the front. Behind that were double doors to a marble balcony overlooking Eldaban’s main square.

Leena had a good view of the elaborate table settings and damasked silk cloth. Scarlet hangings draped the walls, the jeweled embroidery glittering with rubies. Servants hurried from the kitchens, adding food to the already-groaning tables. It seemed enough to feed the entire city twice over. Leena’s stomach growled again, earning her a sharp look from Tovas.

In the center of the room, the acrobats leaped and twirled for the guests. There were humans and fae, lords and merchants. Some of the fae were small and winged, while others sported horns or limbs covered in supple vines. One thing, however, was constant. Despite their fine clothes and practiced smiles, everybody looked nervous.

The figures at the high table had their heads together, conversing among themselves. These were the nobles Leena had to please. Kifi stretched to get a better view as well, her whiskers tickling Leena’s cheek.

“There is Lord Dorth. He’s scowling as if he’s eaten bad fish,” the cat said. “And there