Silver Eyes
By Laura Schiller
Based on the Faerie Path series
Copyright: Frewin Jones
"Tania," said Edric, "Will you dance with me?"
She looked up, her eyes wide – with incredulity, or was it disgust?
"You want us to dance?"
He glanced awkwardly at her two companions – to the right, her fierce older sister; to the left, her handsome Mortal childhood friend. How could he say everything he wanted to say with their suspicious eyes on him?
Of course Tania didn't want to dance. She was sitting there, ice-cold, not even wearing the onyx teardrop he had given her, looking as if the very idea of physical contact with her former lover made her ill. Edric, in turn, was seized by that half-freezing, half-burning, delicious torment that had gripped him every time he had seen Tania since their fight at the wedding; he was like a thirsty man looking at a well of poisoned water.
He could not stand it anymore. He had reached the breaking point. If he had to see her like this without ever touching her – just for one dance, just a few moments – he would shatter like glass.
It was not as if he would be forcing her into anything. She would be happy. One little spell … one little moment of pleasure for them both … was that too much to ask for a man who had been starved of affection for nearly his entire life?
He called up the spirits in his mind, felt the power pulsing behind his eyelids. He looked deep into Tania's eyes, her beautiful smoky-green eyes with the gold dust in their depths. The eyes that had captured his heart, six eternal months ago.
Dance with me, beloved.
Her shocked expression melted into a dreamy, unfocused smile. He took her hand in his and led her out to the floor amidst the blaze of the chandelier, the lively beat of the music and the whirl of smiling dancers. Her sky-blue gown, a loan from Lady Derval, shimmered in the light of a thousand golden candles. Her hair flew out like flickering flames as he whirled her around and around.
For a moment, everything was perfect. He could pretend that she still loved him, that she had never laughed off his proposal of marriage, never shouted at him or called him stupid. He could pretend that he had never been forced to use the Dark Arts to protect her, never been judgmental about her Mortal parents. That they were Romeo and Juliet, meeting each other for the first time at the Capulet ball. Just her hands in his hands, her eyes looking into his, spinning around and around …
He only broke eye contact for a moment, just to make sure he wouldn't bump her into the couple next to them. But that moment was enough. The banquet hall was lined with mirrors to make it apear even more bright and spacious, and in one of those mirrors, Edric caught sight of his own reflection.
He had silver eyes.
In his shock and revulsion, he almost let go of Tania's hands. Silver eyes. Of course. Gabriel Drake's eyes had been brown in his childhood, before he began his study of the Dark Arts, before he believed that he alone had the wit and power to rule Faerie. It was nothing but a side effect. All the same, Edric felt a chill wind blow across his soul.
He remembered watching Gabriel dance with Tania as he refilled the bowls of fruit cordial at Tania's welcoming banquet. His silver eyes had flashed with triumphant joy as he steered his partner in circles, Tania's expression completely blank and lifeless. Edric's own eyes had stung with fury and misery to see his beloved princess used like that, like a puppet in the grip of his master's sorcery.
Edric shivered.
Was he turning into Gabriel Drake?
No! He set his teeth and guided Tania through a complicated set of turns, this time avoiding looking into her eyes. No! He had all his moral principles intact. He had no intention of taking over the country. All he wanted was to make Tania happy, to save her … was that so wrong?
He led her out to the white balcony, to breathe the soft air of a summer night and watch the sky sprinkled with stars. How beautiful she was … how he wished he could talk to her, exchange banter, hear everything about her adventures on land and sea. How had his brave girl gotten past Lord Balor and that terrible fortress? But the spell did not permit that. It had wrapped her mind in cotton wool, leaving only a vague mist of contentment. Edric suppressed another twinge of guilt.
"Are you happy, Tania?"
"Yes," she answered. "Yes, of course." But her voice was flat, with no color in it; none of the laughter or irony he found so refreshing. He shivered. Something was wrong.
"Edric … " she slurred, "Where are we … ?"
She was waking up, resisting the spell. Part of Edric wanted to clamp down on her with all his power, swamp her with the force of his silver eyes until she agreed to everything he asked. But instead, he let go of the spell until it unraveled in the air like a ragged cloud.
"I should have known this wasn't going to work," he said bitterly, cursing himself.
The soulless look in her eyes faded away. She stepped back, her hands balled into fist, her eyes narrowed and smoldering with rage.
"What did you do to me?" she spat. "What was that?"
Yet even as his cheek burned with her resounding slap, even as he realized the full enormity of the crime he had committed against the woman he loved the most, at the back of his mind, Edric felt relieved.
This was his Tania again. Even an angry Tania who hated him was better than a mindless doll. He realized that if she didn't have the pride and independence to resist his enchantment, or the spirit to lash out when she felt wronged, she wouldn't be the Princess Tania he knew and loved.
He deserved the slap and he knew it. He had no idea if he could ever win her back. But if there was one thing he knew in the marrow of his bones, it was that he would do anything to try.
