Then, leaving her reluctantly, he heads toward the nearest table where drinks have been set. Food is still being brought out from the kitchens, though at the High Table, most everyone is seated. As he pours water into a glass, he notes that a few courtiers have crowded around Wren and seem intent on charming her. He watches her give a smile that is perfectly polite, watches her eyes narrow, watches her listen.
He cannot help but think of Madoc’s words.They will sidle up to your little queen tonight. They will introduce themselves and curry her favor. They will attempt to ingratiate themselves with her people and compliment her person. And they will gauge just how much she hates the High King and Queen.
“Prince,” the Ghost says, hand on Oak’s shoulder, making him startle. “I need to speak with you a moment.”
Oak raises his eyebrows. “I haven’t asked Taryn about Liriope yet, if it’s about that.”
Garrett does not meet his gaze. “Other things have taken up my attention as well. I overheard something, and I have been following the path of it, but I want to warn you not to go wandering out alone. Keep Tiernan by your side. No assignations. No heroics. No—”
The Ghost bites off the words as Jack of the Lakes approaches, the kelpie looking relieved and as unamused as he did when he swore his allegiance to Oak.
“Forgive the interruption,” says the kelpie. “Or don’t. I don’t care. I have need of the prince.”
“You presume much,” the Ghost says.
“I often do,” says Jack silkily.
Probably the kelpie doesn’t know he’s baiting a master assassin. Probably.
“I have heard your warning,” Oak tells the Ghost.
The Ghost sighs. “I will have more information for you tomorrow, although perhaps not what you will want to hear.” With that, he walks off into the crowd.
The prince looks over at Wren. She’s speaking to another courtier, her hand heavy on the back of the chair.
Oak drags his attention to the kelpie. “I think I can guess the purpose of this conversation. Yes, I will help. Now, I must get back to my betrothed.”
Jack snorts. “I haven’t come to complain. Your sister terrorized me only a little.”
“Then what is it you want?”
“I saw a most interesting meeting last night,” Jack says. “Bogdana and a man with golden skin. He was carrying a large trunk. He opened it to show her the contents, then shut it again and took it away.”
Oak remembers the hag with the golden skin from the Citadel. He was the one who didn’t give Wren a present. “And you have no idea what was inside?”
“No, indeed, prince. Nor did he seem the sort who would take kindly to being followed by one such as myself.”
“I appreciate your telling me,” says Oak. “And it’s good to see you.”
Jack grins. “I share that sentiment, yet I would be away from this place if you put in a good word with your sister for my release.”
At that, Oak laughs. “So you wish to complain after all?”
“I would not wish to turn your good nature ill,” says Jack, looking around him uncomfortably. “Nor would I wish that ill nature directed at me. But I am not well suited to your home.”
“I’ll talk to my sister,” Oak promises.
On his way back to Wren, he spots Taryn speaking with Garrett. Oak’s gaze picks out Madoc in the crowd, leaning heavily on his cane. Leander is telling a story, and the redcap is listening with what seems rapt attention to his grandchild.
It occurs to him how strange a family they all are. Madoc, who murdered Jude and Taryn’s parents—and yet somehow, they consider him their father. Madoc, who almost killed Jude in a duel. Who might have used Oak to get to the throne and then ruled through him.
And Oriana, who was cold to his sisters, even to Vivi. Who didn’t trust Jude enough to leave Oak alone with her when they were young, but asked her to lay down her life to protect him just the same.
And Vivi, Taryn, and Jude, each different, but all of them clever and determined and brave. Then there is Oak, still trying to figure out where he fits in.
As the prince approaches Wren, he clears his throat.
“Your water,” he says when he’s close, his voice loud enough that the courtiers surrounding her make their excuses. He offers her the goblet of water, which she drinks thirstily.
