Page 38 of Treasured By the Fae Royal
A pleased look enters his eyes. “It’s because you’re already absorbing my magic, sweetling. The same magic that will extend your life for thousands of years also gives you a few other abilities. You won’t have any magic yourself, but you’ll remain forever young, and you’ll feel stronger. You also probably won’t get sick ever again.” He pulls me close as a group of faefolk exit the inn, and we take a seat on a nearby bench. He wraps an arm around me and sighs with contentment, making me suspect he likes being among the regular faefolk.
“Wow, that’s incredible. I-I had no idea.”
He kisses my cheek and gives me an affectionate look that steals my breath.
As we watch the faefolk come and go, I find myself enjoying the jovial atmosphere and the anonymity that comes with being in a busy town.
“This reminds me of Trevos,” I say. “Before the war, anyway.”
“How so?” There’s a hint of wariness in his visage, and I know he’s thinking about my experiences during and after the attack on my home city. He was there. He was there fighting and killing humans.
“I lived in a house near the busiest marketplace in Trevos. The only bars and inns that were halfway respectable were on the street near my house, and though I was never allowed to go outside at night—as you might imagine, proper ladies aren’t permitted to visit bars—sometimes I would crack my window and observe the goings-on in the street and pretend I was out there having fun with a group of friends. Not that I had many friends on account of my father’s awful, hateful behavior that usually scared them all away, but I liked to pretend.”
He arches an eyebrow at me. “Proper ladies aren’t permitted to visit bars? Is that a human thing?”
“If a lady visits a bar or even works in one, she’s viewed as a harlot.” I shrug one shoulder. “But I would glimpse groups of men and women out together, and they always looked like they were having fun. I didn’t understand why that made the women harlots.” I go on to explain how my parents were always worried about my reputation and whether I would one day make a suitable wife for a decent godsfearing man, and I also mention how Papa refused every man who offered for my hand in marriage. For some reason, it all comes pouring out. I’ve never really told anyone how much I used to yearn for companionship and freedom, not even Mira, and it feels good to share this part of myself with Lucas.
He glances at the door of the inn. “Well, I was thinking we could stay here for a while. Rent a room upstairs. Then we can share a drink at the bar, if you’d like, and perhaps we could play some games and make friends with the faefolk.”
“Games? What kind of games?” Excitement fills me. Though we’re possibly running for our lives, or we’re at least lying low until Lucas learns who’s threatening us, visiting Giarrla is one of the most adventurous excursions of my life. I’m in a settlement of regular faefolk, in orc territory, no less, right between the Summer and Spring courts. And I’m with my new husband who’s offering to take me to a bustling tavern where I might mingle with faefolk and play games. Oh gods, I can scarcely contain my enthusiasm.
Lucas grins. “All sorts of games. Card games. Darts. Spin the pixie. And drinking games, of course, though I don’t want you playing any of those. Humans can’t hold their liquor as well as fae and orcs, and I don’t want you getting sick, sweetling.”
“Spin the pixie sounds fun.”
“Oh, it’s fun, until the pixie bites off your fingertip.” He taps at his chin. “Perhaps only card games and darts are suitable for you.” He stands and helps me to my feet, then guides me toward the entrance. The pack is still secured around his waist, and he reaches inside for a bag of coins. “Let’s rent a room and get settled first, then we will enjoy a night out among the faefolk.”
I move with a spring in my step, until I recall the danger we’re in. I think about the glimmering pool of blood beneath the tower and suppress a shiver. I pause in my steps and peer at Lucas. “What about the blood warning?” I whisper. “What if the threat has followed us?”
“Regular faefolk can’t summon wings. Even if this villain knew our exact location, whoever left the blood warning won’t be able to reach Giarrla for nearly a week on foot. So, we’re perfectly safe tonight and for the next few nights.”
I consider his explanation, and relief soon fills me. I nod my agreement, and we turn and enter the inn. He holds me close as we approach the front desk. A bespeckled woman with short purple hair looks up and clasps her hands. “Prince Lucas. Long time no see. Don’t worry. We replaced the window you broke last time you were here.”
I shoot him a look. “You broke a window?” I gasp. “Did you get in a bar fight?”
“Not a fight. Just a very intense game of darts.” He winks at me, and my excitement leaps.
Lucas requests the nicest room available and passes some silver coins to the proprietress. A short while later, I find myself standing at the window of a cozy room on the third floor of the inn. My husband removes the pack from his waist and sets it aside, then he walks up and hugs me from behind. I lean into him and soak up his summer warmth. He smooths my hair to the side and proceeds to trail kisses down my neck. Heated pulses surge between my thighs, and I can’t restrain a gasp of surprise when his hardness suddenly presses into my back.
I turn in his arms. “I thought we were going to get settled in our room and then head downstairs for a drink and some games.” I caress a hand over the collar of his shirt, allowing my fingers to graze his bare flesh. The heat in my core keeps building, and suddenly there’s not enough air in the room.
His eyes darken, and a smirk tugs at his lips. “If you wanted to head downstairs right away, perhaps you should’ve better controlled your urges.” His nostrils flare and he draws in a deep breath, and I flush knowing how easily he can detect my arousal. “Lift up your skirts and bend over the bed, wife.”
CHAPTER22
LUCAS
Warmth fillsme as I watch Yvette toss a dart at the moving target. She laughs and peers over her shoulder at me after missing the target completely. “You didn’t warn me that when fae play darts, they use magic to make the target move.” She laughs again. “I suppose I can see how you broke that window.”
A group of faefolk has gathered round to watch, and they offer friendly pointers as Yvette prepares to throw the remaining four darts. As the game continues, I keep one eye on my bride and another on the goings-on in the tavern. Though we likely won’t encounter the foe who left the blood warning beneath the tower tonight, I still intend to remain vigilant.
It doesn’t make sense. Most of my enemies, who in all fairness are more of my family’s enemies than mine specifically, are highborn fae from the other three courts. As I’d already explained to Yvette, a highborn fae wouldn’t bother with a blood warning. Yet I can’t think of a lesser fae who might hold a quarrel with me or disapprove of my mating union with Yvette.
Regular faefolk depend upon highborn fae for protection, and I’ve spent my life protecting them. It’s why Yvette and I have received such a warm welcome in Giarrla. The fae who call this settlement home probably hope I’ll stay and help keep them safe from marauding humans and orcs and other dangers. I won’t lie. It’s nice to feel wanted and to have a purpose, and as I watch my bride laughing with a group of my people, I can’t help but wonder if she might be happy living in Giarrla, or a place similar to it, permanently.
I think of the Summer Court army and my spirit sinks. In truth, I don’t wish to return to the army, though I know I must eventually do so and make provisions for my eventual departure. By now, my father must’ve received the missive I sent, and he knows I’ve taken a human wife. Will he understand my need to get away from the constant bloodshed?
I think of my brothers. Axton and Zandorr. Both were angered when my father declared I would take over the Summer Court army, and in my quest to prove myself as a capable fighter and leader, I’ve barely known a moment’s rest during the three hundred years I’ve held the position. But perhaps Axton or Zandorr will offer to resume leadership of the army, though I have no doubt General Dalgaard would be more than proficient at the helm. Gods know I wouldn’t have enjoyed victory after victory without his help. I’ve never met a war strategist quite like him, especially one whose soldiers hold him in such high esteem.
