For the umpteenth time in her life, Islinda was grateful that Queen Maeve couldn't summon her power with just a look; otherwise, they'd be reduced to a smoldering heap by now.
And by "they," she meant herself and Aldric. He wasn't making things any easier. Of all the seats in the room, Aldric had deliberately chosen the one directly across from Queen Maeve, where he sat grinning at her tauntingly.
The gods help me, Islinda thought, face-palming inwardly. Sometimes she wondered if she was dating a centuries-old Fae or a child. Aldric was unbelievable.
It wasn't just Queen Maeve who was eyeing them. Everyone in the chamber seemed to be focused on them, as if a spotlight had been fixed on their presence.
