Lily’s motionless, utterly frozen with that false bravery on her face. It dawns on me that while Alex and Salem are used to tables dressed like this, she is not. Under the table, I reach over and link my littlest finger through hers, only to find her knuckles rigid with terror. Guilt floods me that we’re throwing her into the deep end with very little coaching. It’s small, this contact we’ve allowed each other, but after a few seconds, she exhales, shooting me a covert half-smile that I return. She squeezes my finger, and I believe she knows I won’t abandon her. For now, that will have to be enough to get us through.
King Ronin is never untucked or unkempt, especially when outsiders are at the table. He’s wearing his dark suit that’s got purple silk lining, a matching vest, complemented with a white dress shirt. His bow tie is only ever tied when he has to address the territory, so the ends hang loose around his neck when he’s at home. That’s his version of “dressed down.” We look so very similar, but for his angular jaw always being clean-shaven, and the constantly aloof and controlled look about him I’ve never been able to pull off.
“Prince Alexavier,” King Ronin begins, shaking out his emerald napkin with a loud crack, “I see congratulations are in order. Who is this creature who’s enchanted you so wholeheartedly that you saw need to bring her here to meet us?”
I’m guessing we’ll run into this kind of thing a lot, but if Alex is put off by the insinuation, he doesn’t show it.
Of course he’s not offended. He’s got it bad for Lily.
Alex tilts his head at Lily, his expression light, as if we’re not about to blow the roof off this thing. “This is Lilya. We found her in Neutral Territory, the three of us.” He doesn’t say anything more, leaving it to me to drop the big reveal.
I open my suddenly dry mouth, but Harris steals the focus. “You look like you’ve got a headache, Grandfather. Here, have a caffure pill.” He takes a small bottle from his pocket and shakes it, like he’s trying to tempt a dog.
King Ronin’s jaw tightens, his eyes cutting to Harris with a guarded glare at mention of his malady in mixed company. “No, thank you. My head feels fine. It’s just the lights; they’re too bright in here.”
I don’t bring to attention that there’s a lantern and a few candles, and that’s it.
I finish my second drink, then stand and pour myself a third while I clear my throat like I’m auditioning for court minstrel. I shoot King Ronin an apologetic look as I position myself behind Lilya’s chair, my barrel-chested stance commanding the eyes of everyone at the table. It’s not my parents I’m worried about offending—they’ll hate me no matter who I bring home. King Ronin doesn’t openly despise me as they do. Though, I’ve never been sure he likes me, either. “Actually, Lilya is my girlfriend, not Alex’s.” I clear my throat again after taking a lengthy sip. I set down my glass and reach down to link my littlest finger through hers once more, then bring our joined hands up for everyone to see. “My fiancé. I mean, my wife.”
I’m certain my parents have gone deaf, because there’s no lashing out with cussing and vitriol. They merely shoot me disapproving looks while they sip their crimson cocktails. “Hilarious, Destino. I see you’re trying to test the limits of our immortality by trying to give us a heart attack. Well done, but you already tested that when you brought home that lion cub and told us you wanted to keep it as your pet.” When Melinda’s eyes narrow in on our joined fingers that haven’t moved, she shouts out a shrill, “Let go of his hand!”
Lily jumps at the volume, but holds tighter to my finger. And there I feel it again, that solidarity I usually only get from the guys. When she coils her finger firmly around mine with no air of aggression in her eyes, I know Salem chose the right woman for the job. There will be more than just shouting by the end of it, and most crumble under the weight of Harris and Melinda’s disapproval.
I’m the only one standing, and I take care not to sever the contact both of us are clinging to. I stand beside Lily’s chair now, and press the back of her hand into my abdomen and keep my spine straight, though each movement aches my shoulder. “Four months ago, I met the guys in Neutral Territory for a drink.”
Melinda’s face is gaunt. Harris looks like he’s actually choking on his rage. King Ronin is frozen, taking everything in with that undercurrent of control, even when he’s been thrown a curveball there’s no way he could’ve predicted. He looks like he’s my age, but his wisdom and cunning make him ancient.
“Neutral Territory?!” Harris finally spits out.
I do my best to sound like I know what I’m doing, what I’ve done. “Lilya was the waitress at the pub we visited. It’s not much more complicated than that I fell in love with her the first time I saw her. I tried to put her out of my mind, but I couldn’t. I can’t. I didn’t say anything to anyone because I knew how we’d be received. But it’s not worth it to me to sit on this. So we got married in secret. Lilya is my wife now.”
Melinda shrieks like she’s just been told there’s no more vodka in the cellar. “Let go of her hand! She’s bewitched you, you simpleton! She’s tricked you, as all fae are known to do! How could you let this happen?”
King Ronin winces, touching his aching head. “Can you please confine your outbursts to a reasonable volume, Melinda?”
Harris closes his eyes as he grips his fork and knife. “No matter. We’ll have it undone. If it’s within the first twenty-four hours of the certificate being signed, it can be undone.” Then, as if he’s just decided he’s brilliant and solved it all in a matter of sentences, he laughs, sets his utensils down and toasts his grand idea with his crystal goblet.
Now it’s me who needs to hold onto Lily, though I pretend to myself she needs me for support as much as I need her. It hits me hard that I’m leaning on this total stranger for moral support, that I trust her this much already. And she’s not pulling away. She doesn’t shrink at Mum’s volume, at Harris’ insulting plan, or King Ronin’s silent mulling that I know will deliver a grim verdict once he lands on a method of punishment for us.
I drop her hand only to down the rest of my drink. Then I connect myself to her again and meet my father’s eyes with confidence that’s believable but fake. “I married Lilya two nights ago, so that window has passed. She’s my wife, and you’ll accept it. In fact, you’ll celebrate it.”
I drop Lily’s hand to move over to the drink cart to refill my gin and blood. My hand feels empty and strange the moment we lose contact, so I make quick work of pouring my drink and return to her. After two swallows, I stand by her chair and hold her hand once more. It’s like we’re magnetized, only able to drop contact for half a minute at a time.
A foolish idea comes to me, so I run with it. “I want to throw my bride a big wedding. Ours was done in Neutral Territory in the middle of the night with only my mates and her mum around.” Though Fiora isn’t her mum, Lily postures that I understand that’s what the crone is to her. “This is Lilya’s first trip to Drexdenberg, if you can believe it, and our coach was attacked on the way here. I worry my sweet love will get the wrong idea about vampires, so I’d like to show her I’ve brought her into a civilized society.”
Harris is holding his head in his hands, his elbows on the table. “Your abomination is from Neutral Territory. I’m sure a cesspool would be considered the pinnacle of culture for her by comparison.”
My mouth tightens. “Enough, Harris.”
The corner of Lily’s lips twitches upward, and she covers her mouth to stifle the sin.
Harris is on a roll. “Take her out of this house and back to the den of thieves and murderers. You realize she’s not good enough for even her own people, yeah? There’s a reason they kicked her out. And I’ve got to tell you, I can’t think of something bad enough for Faveda to resort to turning out one of its own. They’re soft on crime because they’re all manipulative criminals to begin with. This one must be the worst of the worst.”
At this, Lily sniggers under her breath. The sound is so strange, it
draws everyone’s eyes, including Salem, who’s been avoiding looking at her ever since she put on a dress. She covers her mouth again. “I’m sorry. It’s just funny, is all. You’re right about the fae. Vicious scoundrels, every last one of them. How horrible and terrifying I must be, being the only fae in Neutral Territory. I just might have to send myself to bed without supper.” She stands, keeping tight to my side. “Are you ready to turn in, teddy bear?”
Her impromptu nickname for me is the worst, but it makes me chuckle, which I’ll admit, isn’t something I pictured myself doing in this conversation. She’s slender and dainty, and for a second, I think perhaps I wouldn’t mind being the thing she snuggles up to in bed. My enduring affection for Lily lies in her smirk that’s covering over her anxiety. She’s petrified, but she’s not a pushover.
I feign a yawn. “You know, I think I am, blue eyes.”
King Ronin is still unmoving, taking it all in with a calculating eye. He doesn’t even startle when Melinda starts screaming, and Alex and Salem have to stand to hem us in. “Get that trash out of here! She’s tricked you, you stupid boy! She’s done something to you to bewitch you into turning over the keys to our treasury! Don’t you see that’s all she wants? The fae love to take from us. This is no different. Let go of her this instant!”
Then Melinda lunges across the table, her steak knife in her hand. She knocks over one of the candles, making a mess of everything as her wild eyes zero in on Lily.
Alex and Salem are on it, but Lily is faster. She drops my hand, snatches up her napkin and grabs the blade charging in her direction, yanking Melinda closer instead of deflecting. Mum stumbles and falls forward, flat on the platter of sausages.
Everyone’s shouting, but I’m close enough to Lily to hear her calm seethe as she meets Melinda’s wild eyes with a craze all her own. “Now that I’m your daughter, I can teach you how to fight with a knife properly. See, if you come at me like this, I can just…” Then Lily jerks Mum’s arm over her head and then tugs in a winding motion, turning Melinda on her back before Lily slams her wrist to the table, knocking the blade free.
Alex snatches up the knife, his face gaunt at Lily’s calm. Salem’s already beside Lily, backing up her counterassault with the menace of his bulk.
Harris makes to jump across the table next, his fist cocked to defend the wife he’s been cheating on for years, but everyone freezes when King Ronin stands. He claps his hands twice, and we all find our way to our seats, waiting to be scolded like the rowdy children we are. “That’ll do. Child, I should like to see you in my study after dinner. Melinda, you may go clean yourself up.”
I nod, my palms sweating. “Yes, sir.” My heart is pounding, but as no one was actually stabbed, I suppose it could’ve gone worse.
King Ronin’s eyes land on Lily. “Not you, Destino. I wish to speak to the girl.”
Lily’s eyes whip toward his, all color draining from her face.
“It’s alright,” I murmur to her, though judging by the wary look she casts my way, she knows I’ve got nothing to back up my encouragement. King Ronin is a wild card, never showing his hand, and ruling in such a way that you never quite trust calm waters or the steady control in his cadence.
Lily cuts off the end of her sausage and pops it in her mouth, as if nothing at all has ever been wrong. While she’s chewing, she leans over and picks up my utensils. My brows furrow when she starts cutting my meat for me, like I’m five years old. “Your shoulder,” she reminds me, her eyes on my plate while she works. “You can’t be expected to cut this with one functioning arm.”
My spine slumps at the kindness she didn’t need to be asked to provide. If I’m to have a woman by my side, I guess this is a quality I’d like her to possess—meeting my weakness with humility and compassion without ever having to be asked. The only thing my mum’s ever done for my father is pour him another drink, and even that’s done with derision.
I lean my forehead to her temple and close my eyes. “Thank you.”
The knife clatters to the plate and her hand finds its way to my jaw, tracing my groomed scruff with her thumb, as if I’m the thing that centers her when life spins out of control. “I’m scared,” she admits in a whisper.
I want to tell her not to be afraid, but I can’t promise there’s no good reason to run for the hills. I want to push her into Alex’s arms to save her from my family’s many dysfunctions.
Instead I kiss her cheek, smirking at her weight when she leans into me. When she’s scared, I’m now one of the things that makes her feel safe. “I’m right here, blue eyes. All three of us. And it didn’t even look like you needed us just then when Melinda came across the table at you. But we’re here, just in case.” When my words don’t seem to offer any relief to her worries, I press further. “Say it back to me.”
Her breath comes stuttered and shallow, but her whisper pings my heart just as true as vows declared out loud. “Des is here. Lexi is here. Prince Salem is here.”
I smile and kiss her cheek again. “Glad I made top of the list. The other blokes will be jealous.”
I don’t listen to Harris bark his commands that we let go of each other. I don’t bother with anything but calming Lily as best I can by sliding her chair closer to mine so our thighs are touching. I don’t eat my first bite of sausage until she’s herself enough to take her second mouthful. Then I start to relax.
The others are talking quietly, but I can feel King Ronin’s eyes on Lily.
My stomach twists with dread at whatever he’s got in store for my wife.
16
Belief in Goodness
Lilya
If there was a time my knees were trembling more than they are now, I cannot recall it. The door to King Ronin’s study is cracked, but I’m too afraid to push it open.
“It’s alright, blue eyes. I’m right here.”
Des is wonderful. Truly a good guy, but this is something I have to do for myself. “King Ronin said for me to meet with him, not us. And I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean all of us.” I eye the guys, trying to fake confidence I don’t feel. “If you all go in with me, it’ll make me look weak.” Then I motion to Des. “Besides, Healer Clare told you to take it easy. She told you to rest. This does not qualify.” I lean up on my toes to kiss his cheek. Apparently, we do that now.
Des’ unshaven jaw is firm. “I’m not leaving you to deal with my family. We’re in this together. All of us.”
The guys nod, but I really don’t want to keep discussing this. Before I can open my mouth to protest, the door swings open the rest of the way, revealing King Ronin in all of his pressed and polished glory. Just standing there in his suit, his presence is so intimidating that my breath catches in my throat. “Gentlemen, she’s absolutely right. The child will be returned to you within the hour. Go on upstairs.” Then he ushers me inside and shuts the door in the guys’ worried faces.
King Ronin motions to a leather chair before taking his spot on the other side of the massive mahogany desk. There is a stack of papers to the left, but other than that, there’s nothing. Like this whole slab of wood exists simply to be intimidating.
Being this close to the king of Drexdenberg is daunting, for sure. He’s got Des’ black hair, but while Des’ is perpetually windblown on top, nothing about King Ronin is out of place. He’s wearing black fitted, pressed slacks with a vest beneath his matching suit jacket, and a crisp dress shirt that looks freshly ironed, though I know it can’t possibly be. His full head of hair is combed to the side, and his bow tie dangles open around his neck. While I know he’s Des’ great-grandfather, he looks no older than thirty-one, same age as Des. His sharp jawline match’s Des’, but where Des wears his nearly-trimmed five o’clock shadow at all hours, King Ronin is perfectly shaved and groomed, not a single eyebrow hair out of place. They have the same angle to their nose, the same height even, but the king has a way about him that is purely terrifying, like he could slice the head off a person and never get a single splatter on hi
s pristine, fitted suit.
“Sit,” he commands, since I haven’t moved from the entrance. The whole place is dark wood with too-big furniture and emerald accents.
“No,” I counter, though why I pick this particular hill to die on is beyond me. “No, thank you. If you’re going to attack me, I’d rather be near the exit and on my feet already.”
He sizes me up, as if my answer is strange. Given what he just witnessed his granddaughter do at the dinner table, I can’t imagine anyone would blame me for being cautious. “If I wanted you dead, you would be dead. What I want are answers, which are far more difficult to get if your head is rolling around on my floor. Though not impossible, with enough digging into your background.”
It’s not a threat; it’s the reality of his far-reaching power. As if I need a reminder.
I don’t speak, since he’s the one who asked me to come here in the first place.
King Ronin leans his elbows on the desk and feathers his fingers before resting his chin atop them. “I find it strange that my great-grandson, who has never been able to hold down a third date, stumbled into your bar and fell for you—a fae.”
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