Lord Raelen stood cold and austere, glaring down at me with silver fey-fire eyes from his almost superhuman height. The noble lines of his face were taut with rage. Among my scattered laundry and dehydrated air plants, he looked like a high fantasy actor who'd wandered onto the wrong movie set. But there was nothing phony about this, about the rich magical fury crackling like static electricity on the bedroom air.
I closed the door quietly beside me, bowed my head, and curtsied low. I felt my uncle's rage stinging against my skin. I could not defend myself from that kind of power, even if I were bold enough to try.
“Explain," boomed my uncle, thunder in his voice.
I did not look up at him. “I cannot, uncle."
“I do not have the words to tell you what folly, what utter foolishness and
