Lady of Light and Shadows by C. L. Wilson

responsibility.”
    He didn't know. Relief at his ignorance warred with outrage over his indifference. She glared. "That's it? You're just going to let this pass?”
    He looked surprised. "Why would I not? What harm, really, was done to anyone?" His mouth curved in a slow smile. "You can't tell me you didn't enjoy at least some of last night. And I can promise you there were at least half a dozen older lords who'd probably pay the girl a king's ransom to ... er... invigorate them that way again." His smile became a roguish grin, but the expression faded quickly when she didn't respond in kind. "Come now, my dear, you're being entirely too tight-laced about this. It was an accident.”
    "It was dangerous, Dorian! If she can do that, what else might she do?”
    His face hardened. "The answer is no, Annoura. You will not attempt to punish the girl. If I know the Fey, they will find a way to accept responsibility for what happened so that any blame falls on them, rather than her." He stalked around the bed to the crumpled pile of last night's clothes and yanked on his wrinkled breeches. "And that, my dear, should made you very happy, considering your numerous attempts to discredit them.”
    "Dorian!" She gaped at him in disbelief. How had he turned this around and made her out to be the villain? No matter what she'd done to foment last night's weave, she was a victim of it! Her will had been usurped. Her pride and dignity trampled. The queen of Celieria had been enslaved by magic-and her husband the king would do nothing to avenge her! He saw it all as some humorous joke, some titillating farce.
    Dorian tugged his full white silk tunic over his head, leaving the neckline gaping open to show faintly bronzed skin and the dark hairs sprinkled across his chest. He left the rest of his clothes where they lay. "Last night was a pleasure beyond words-at least for me. I regret you don't share the sentiment. I will take my leave of you." He bowed with perfect, studied grace. It felt like a slap across her face.
    "Dorian." Despite herself, she took a step towards him, one hand extended in supplication, but he was already walking out.
    When the door shut behind him, her hand curled into a shaking fist. The Fey. Always, when he was asked to choose between the Fey and his own wife, he chose them. Never her.
    The betrayal bit deep. She'd turned her back on her own family for him. She'd been raised for the sole purpose of wedding a royal husband and directing the strength of his kingdom to further the power of Capellas. Only she hadn't done that. She'd loved Dorian too much to see him become a pawn of her parents. She'd established her seat of power in his court, to be sure, but she'd used every ounce of her will to make Celieria strong enough never to need or fall prey to Capellan might. Thanks to her, Celieria now led the world instead of Capellas-and her parents had never forgiven her.
    All she'd ever wanted in return was for Dorian to extend the same loyalty and devotion to her, but now she finally realized he never would. For Dorian, the Fey would always come first.
    With that realization, the love she'd always felt for him died a little, and a cold, stony seed of resentment took root in her heart. Fear and betrayal hardened to anger and new determination. Dorian might cling to the old ways and hug close his childish trust in the Fey, but she would not. Annoura of Celieria, born a princess of Capellas, now the most powerful queen in all the world, would not allow the Fey and their cursed magic to lead Celieria about on a leash.
    The Eld had offered an alternative-economic and military supremacy that did not include the Fey. More importantly, they possessed magic strong enough to thwart even Fey weaves should Dorian's immortal kin object to Celieria's independence.
    While Dorian would do everything he could to see the Eld trade agreement defeated, Annoura was going to make sure that it passed.

CHAPTER THREE
    Ellysetta's morning passed with