The Unseelie King (The Kings Book 6) by Heather Killough-Walden Read Free Book Online

actually left him speechless, but that was okay because it took him that long to process what it was she was asking for.
    Of course the Hollow Box could make her rainbow mille crepe cake… whatever the heck it was. It could make anything she wanted . But the fact that she was asking him for it in the first place made him want to stick his head out the jet plane window, loss in air pressure and all, and hoot at the tops of his lungs like a love sick moron.
    But he kept himself together with impressive and practiced expertise, turning slightly away so she couldn’t see him smile. Then he made his way to the counter, took the box, and went back to the bed. He held the box up in offering. It weighed almost nothing, as much as an empty gift box, no more.
    “Why don’t you see for yourself?” he suggested softly.
    Minerva watched him in very quiet contemplation for a moment before reaching up and taking the box from him. To be on the safe side, he then retreated to lean against the counter, where he crossed his legs at the ankles, and his arms over his chest.
    She continued to watch him for some time, the wariness in her eyes a combination of outright distrust and slowly simmering fury. Her parents had been murdered, after all, and despite the fact that he’d made it clear to her earlier that there was no one left alive who was responsible for the timed trap left for them eons ago, she very understandably wanted revenge. Revenge flowed through her blood; it was the very basis for Wisher magic.
    At last, she looked away, releasing him from his simultaneous apprehension and hope. She placed the box on her knees, stared at the top for a second, and lifted the lid.
    A wonderful aroma drifted toward Caliban, and he found himself rising off the counter, his neck craning to gain a peek into the box. Minerva made it easier on him when she reached inside and pulled out a plate containing what looked like a massive wedge of pastel rainbow. The layers must have been fifty deep, nearly as thin as paper, interspersed with layers of very fine white that smelled divine. The color gradiation was more perfect than anything he’d seen created by the fae cooks of his realm.
    “That’s… rainbow crepe cake?” he found himself asking.
    Minerva gazed steadfastly at the aromatic pastry for some time, and Caliban was well and truly lost as to what the woman was thinking. The expression on her face was completely unreadable.
    Her lips parted. And in the softest of voices, which he could now recognize was raw from screaming and crying, she said, “It is. I’ve never actually seen it in person.” She swallowed hard enough for him to hear it, then continued. “I’ve only ever seen pictures. On Pinterest and stuff.” She looked up at him, and when her eyes met his this time, a part of him, a part that had at one time been hard and cold and unyielding, uncurled and softened and died a little then and there.
    “I’ve always wanted to taste it,” she told him.
    Caliban had no idea what to say. Her complete and utter honesty in that moment, her fragile openness and suddenly delicate nature reminded him of diamond bubbles as hollow as the Hollow Box, and were just as wondrously surprising.
    The future Unseelie Queen licked her lips – tentatively, uncertainly. Then she moved, turning on the bed and lifting the plate of cake slightly toward him. She shrugged a little, and that raw voice asked, “Do you want to share it?”

Chapter Five
    When everyone had finally finished coming into the meeting room on the 65 th floor of the Sears Tower, by portal or front door or transportation, and taken their seats at the massive polished oak table, Roman knew that his instincts had been correct.
    There were only twelve kings at the table that night. There were four queens. Twenty seats, nine on each side, one at each head, only seventeen of them taken. Of course, Caliban’s absence was both understandable and excused, as was Minerva Trystaine’s, his