To Wed The Goblin King (The Realm Trilogy Book 2)

by Lisa Manifold

Then he wouldn’t feel so foolish talking about his feelings about Iris.

  “Would you please join me? I fancy some of the dwarves’ brandy, and I don’t want to drink it alone.”

  Drake’s expression lightened. “Now you are speaking words I like to hear. I’ll be there shortly, lordship.” The mirror went dark.

  Brennan felt comforted by Drake’s teasing tone. It assured him that all was still well, in spite of not feeling that way. For all he didn’t want Iris in danger, maybe she was better off in the Human Realm. All Cian or Ailla or any of his enemies would need to do is harm her—even threaten to harm her—and he would give them anything they wanted.

  Not exactly the image of a strong, capable Goblin King. He sighed, and the door to his study slammed open.

  “Bring on the brandy,” Drake said as an announcement.

  Brennan waved to the side table. He’d poured a glass for himself earlier, stewing over what to do next with all the non-information he had.

  Drake hurried to the table and poured himself a large glass, then sat in the chair across from Brennan.

  “What is it?” He asked.

  Brennan wondered where to start. He certainly didn’t want to confess all his worry over Iris immediately. Better to lead up to it.

  “We have no further leads, Drake. I cannot find anyone in the Dragon Realm willing to talk to me.”

  “I told you I have a contact that may be more forthcoming.”

  “Have you discovered the writer of the note?”

  Drake looked away. “Yes. It’s a woman.”

  “A woman? What woman?”

  Drake’s nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply. Brennan felt a grin creep across his face. This was a sign that Drake didn’t want to tell him something.

  “Her name is Carlianah. And—”

  “Ailla hates her,” Brennan said without hesitation. “Even I know that.” He knew a lot of the gossip of the Dragon Court. Ailla had regaled him with it in times past.

  “Yes, well the feeling is apparently mutual. She sent the note because—”

  “What is her agenda?” Brennan felt his smile fall away. An eager informant was often not the most trustworthy.

  “She is furious at her king and his daughter. Apparently, her father had negotiations with someone from the Fae Court in process, and due to the Dragon Realm turning traitor, that family has broken off negotiations.”

  “Do you really trust this? I know that Ailla does not like her, but Carlianah is loyal to her court.”

  “What do you take me for? I went to the father of the family she named. Niko is the son—and I think it is, or was, to be a love match. Carlianah is furious, and Niko is as well. Niko’s father, Gardalion, is not as upset. He’s rather a sun-based sort.”

  Brennan knew what he meant—that the man was like the sun—always on the move, and never willing to be in the shadows. Having his son betrothed to someone from the traitor court would not be his choice, so if there was a chance to drop negotiations, Gardalion would do it.

  “What else does Carlianah tell you?”

  “Cian has been a fixture at court for some time, although not under his true name. He was called Kalen, and according to Carlianah, Ailla has been in his company often. She says that no one knows where Kalen came from or who his family is, which made many suspicious. She doesn’t know it’s Cian, by the way,” Drake added. “I merely asked her if there had been a scarred Fae in the court that she remembered. She told me that she was surprised when Ailla’s betrothal to you was announced. Most of the Dragon Court was, if she is to be believed, because it was obvious that Ailla favored Kalen.” He dropped his head.

  Brennan leaned it. It was time. He’d put it off for long enough. The small piece of conversation they’d had before had not settled it. “Brother, I am sorry.”

  Drake looked up, his eyes flashing. “For what, Brennan?”

  “That Ailla hurt you as she did.”

  “First, we do not need to discuss this further, as we have already done so. Second, shouldn’t you instead be angry with me?”

  “Why would I be angry?”

  “I had no business even having interest in your betrothed.” Drake’s shoulders sagged. “I know my mistakes.”

  Seeing Drake this way gave Brennan a feeling that the world was off kilter, and he just hadn’t seen it yet. Drake never sagged.

  “I don’t think for a moment that you planned it. I think it happened. You knew I did not love her,” Brennan shrugged, “and from what Iris supposes, in addition to our previous conversation, she made a play for you. ‘A hell of a play,’ to quote Iris.”

  Humor lurked in Drake’s eyes. “Is that what she said?”

  “Yes, along with a lot of uncomplimentary names directed at me for not noticing. And she even had the nerve to scold me for marrying someone I didn’t love. I attempted to make the case that it meant I was unmarried when we met, but apparently, that’s not the point.”

  Drake laughed, as Brennan hoped he would.

  “I’m really sorry I tried to kill her. She’s very, very good for you. It’s also nice of her to attempt to excuse me, but there is no excuse for my behavior.”

  “Nor mine, Brother. I am shamed by the admission that I didn’t even notice your feelings. Iris picked up on it very quickly. The two of you have not been on good terms, and she noticed. You are my brother, and I did not.”

  “That’s good. I didn’t want you to,” said Drake. “It was bad enough that I had feelings. Ailla noticed, and she slyly encouraged me. Not that I thought that at the time. I felt bad for her,” he said with disgust. “I felt sorry for her that she was being forced into marriage, but I tried to tell her what a good man you are. She always turned the conversation to hints of…” Drake stopped.

  “Of what?”

  “Of she and I.” Drake’s cheeks flamed. “I am ashamed to even speak the words. I am sorry.”

  “No, I am sorry. Had I noticed, I would have ended our understanding before it got to the point where it became official. You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” Brennan retorted.

  “What if I were to look favorably upon Iris?” Drake teased.

  “I would think you mad and never think on it again,” Brennan said. He was surprised to find that he meant it. He didn’t even feel jealous. He knew Iris loved him, although whether she understood what that meant in the Fae Realm, he wasn’t sure. Another uncomfortable conversation he’d need to force himself to have. But he had no worries about Iris with another.

  “Well, that’s probably for the best. The mad girl might try to kill me.” Drake smiled.

  “She’d only be returning the favor. How many times have you tried to harm Iris? What is it now, ten, twelve times?”

  They met one another’s eyes, and laughed.

  “She really is perfect for you, Brennan.”

  “I know. Who would think it? I would not have. I didn’t think such a one existed, and certainly not a human.”

  “She’s not really truly human.”

  “She is so young, Drake. I am sure of my heart. I worry that I am taking hers before she has a chance to be sure,” Brennan sipped his brandy.

  “Who cares how young she is? Everyone eligible for you looks young next to your aged self,” Drake said with a small laugh. “That love comes but once. You know that.”

  Brennan eyed Drake over the rim of his glass, considering before he spoke. “Do you feel you will not love again after Ailla?”

  Drake didn’t respond. He also drank, although deeper than a sip, Brennan noticed. There was a reason it was easier to talk over a glass of spirits. Gave one time for consideration.

  Drake looked directly at him. “We were not together. So while I may nurse my wounds like a delicate flower for a time, there is hope. I don’t really see any at the moment, in truth, but I keep telling myself to think positive.”

  “Probably a good thing I didn’t allow Iris to talk to you about this,” Brennan said.

  Drake choked on his
brandy. “What?” He sputtered. “She planned to speak with me?”

  Brennan nodded. “After calling me…what was it? ‘A shitty brother and a big candy-ass,’ she said, ‘if you don’t, I will.’” He remembered Iris arguing with him. Things will be weird between you two until you face this, and stop being such a candy ass!

  Drake looked down, but Brennan felt certain he wasn’t doing so to hide anything other than laughter. He didn’t speak. Drake’s shoulders began to shake, and finally he looked up and roared with laughter.

  “A…candy…ass…” he got out. “What…exactly is…a…candy ass?”

  No wonder he’d put this off. Far too much laughing at his expense, Brennan thought. “I don’t know,” he said, a touch of irritation slipping into his words. “She was very forceful with her opinions on this matter. I had to tell her that I would be extremely angry if she approached you about this in any way.”

  “Did that scare her?”

  “No. She just gave me the silent treatment.”

  Drake didn’t help matters by laughing again. “This is why you have lived as long as you have with no one catching your interest, Brother. You had to wait for this one to be born. She is perfect for you. I pity your goblins!” He leaned back in the chair, laughing more.

  Brennan didn’t laugh. “What if I am not perfect for her?”

  Drake sobered immediately. “What do you mean?”

  “Perhaps she deserves the chance to live—”

  Drake cut him short. “You are giving her the greatest chance of her life. She will live forever, in human terms. And she will be loved in a way that no human could be. I’m giving you the benefit of the former human’s knowledge here. Appreciate it, your lordship.”

  Whatever Brennan planned to say was interrupted by his steward, Bronoor, bursting in.

  “Many pardons, Majesty, but you are needed in the main courtyard!” The man panted.

  Brennan could tell he’d been running.

  “What is amiss, Bronoor?”

  Bronoor shook his head, clearly out of breath, and gestured to the door.

  As one, Brennan and Drake rose and strode from the room. Without words they headed for the stairs leading to the open courtyard that lay in the middle of the castle. Brennan could see shadows on the wall that were odd for this time of night.

  As they rounded the corner of the stairwell that emptied into the courtyard with Bronoor on their heels, Brennan drew up short.

  A large fire burned in the middle of the courtyard. Unlike a normal fire, there were flames of green that suggested magic. He heard the hiss of Drake drawing his sword, and felt in his pouch for a stone. He kept them with him at all times now, since both he and Iris were attacked recently. Since Cian was able to enter the castle unseen and unheard, as he’d done before, Brennan wanted to make sure that he had magical assistance should he need it. Thankfully, Taranath had a steady supply of the magic stones. His hand found one and he curled his fingers around it, waiting. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good.

  The flames went higher, the green tint increasing. A figure appeared in the middle of the fire—a figure twice as tall as Brennan.

  Cian.

  He knew without a doubt it was his brother. This was confirmed when the figure turned its head and caught sight of Brennan.

  “Ah. Little brother,” Cian sneered, his voice echoing off the walls of the courtyard.

  How is he doing this, Brennan thought.

  “I am glad I do not have to wait long for you. A king should not wait for anyone,” Cian said.

  “You are king of nothing,” Brennan said calmly. He would not let this shade see how bothered he was.

  “Figure it out,” he whispered to Drake.

  He felt Drake pull Bronoor aside, but couldn’t hear what they said. It didn’t matter. Drake knew what needed to be done. He could tell when Bronoor rushed away behind him that his message was understood.

  Now all he needed was to keep the shade talking until help arrived.

  “Oh, but I am, little brother. And you are still nothing…but the Goblin King.” The malice in the last two words penetrated Brennan’s bones.

  A thought came to him. Until his parents had enlightened him as to the true meaning of the responsibility of the Goblin King—how the Goblin King kept the magic of the Fae Realm in balance and ensured that no one realm gained too much magical power over the others—he had thought as Cian did. That it was punishment and something lesser than he deserved, and they hadn’t even told him until the eve of his coronation. He felt sure they’d kept it from Cian as well.

  In all this time, Cian had not been enlightened. Brennan thanked the stars that his parents, with their weakness towards Cian, had never told him the truth.

  “I am pleased with my place and my kingdom, Brother,” he said, ignoring the taunting. “Can you say the same?”

  Drake snickered beside him.

  The barb found its mark. The figure in the fire swelled, and the flames licked higher. Brennan crossed his arms and stifled a grin. As old as they were, Cian still had not mastered himself. It was a thing to note and make use of.

  “I will be the king of all the Realms!” Cian shouted. “Including your wretched Goblin Realm! Then you and your humans—” This spat towards Drake, “both your little human brother and the little human girl you hover around like an old maid—shall suffer with you!”

  “Really? How do you plan to attain this? I do not see Father abdicating to you,” he said, holding a hand low towards Drake. He could feel Drake’s anger, and he didn’t want him to react or say anything. “A more pressing matter—how is it you are still alive, Brother? I felled you in the garden that day with only my thoughts. I saw your lifeless form carried from the castle. I know now they took you to a hidden castle, kept away from all eyes. And they let your death stand. So how did you survive?”

  Cian had brought his anger under control. “Suffice it to say you are not as effective as you believe, and you should keep that in mind. Although you do a nice job of getting your human to heel.” The figure laughed. “As well, this is the, what?” The figure tapped its chin. “Second time—that you know of—that I have entered your castle without your knowledge or permission? Perhaps discovering that is a better use of your limited talents than mewling over the past.”

  Brennan could tell what he’d said hit a nerve with Cian in spite of his words. “That is true, you have managed to get in. But with what? Your shade? What can a shade do? You make much noise and create much display, but really, what good is that? I am not a child, and words do not frighten me.”

  “They should,” the fire-figure said. He began to shout something in a language Brennan didn’t understand. The figure got larger, and as he watched, he noticed that Bronoor stood with Taranath in one of the walkways that overlooked the courtyard, and he felt better.

  “You’ll have to do better than that, Cian,” he began, and the world went bright with a burst of sunlight in the darkness, and then black.

  ***

  He felt pain before he opened his eyes. What had happened? In an instant he remembered the scene in the courtyard. The fact that he was lying down with closed eyes did not bode well. Cautiously, Brennan opened his eyes a little, attempting to gauge where he was.

  Taranath’s surgery. Well, that was both good and bad. Good in that he was still in his own castle. He didn’t think Cian would haul him to the surgery, so there was that. Bad in that obviously he’d needed to be hauled to the surgery.

  What had Cian—or his shade—done?

  Brennan closed his eyes. He hoped that Taranath had some sort of explanation. And something to deal with the headache that opening his eyes brought.

  He let his mind drift, thinking over his conversation with the Cian shade. Everything had happened so fast. But the shade had threatened him, of course. Actually, the shade sounded almost exactly like the Cian he remembered from childhood. He taunted, and made threats. Had Cian not grown in all this time? He’d done his b
est to say all the things to upset Brennen. First threatening him, and then Drake and Iris. Iris! He pushed himself up, feeling lightening streak through his head. What if the Cian-shade had gotten to her?

  “Taranath?” He called. “Where are you?”

  Taranath noiselessly appeared in his field of vision, a glass bottle in one hand. “How do you feel?”

  “As though someone beat me repeatedly,” Brennan said. “It’s not pleasant. What happened? Where’s Drake?”

  “Drake is going through the castle making sure that all the wards I have set and reinforced are in place. The fact that a shade magic was cast here from elsewhere, is concerning. You feel beaten because the shade did something to you.”

  Brennan opened his mouth but Taranath held up a hand.

  “No, I don’t know what it did, exactly. There is a magic here at work that is an old, dark magic. It has the feel of dragon magic. I am aware you will be displeased, but I have contacted your father. He will know more of this magic and why it is no longer commonly used, and I need to understand it better.”

  Brennan leaned back, annoyed. He didn’t like it. He didn’t want his parents in his castle. He didn’t trust them. He didn’t know any longer where their loyalties lay now that Cian was involved. To steal a phrase from Iris, this sucked.

  Instead, however, he nodded at Taranath. “You are correct. I don’t like it. I understand why you did it. It was wise thinking on your part, in spite of how I might feel about it. I had requested they come here prior to this as it was. What did my father say?”

  A smile lurked at the corners of Taranath’s mouth. “He expressed great…anger at your brother, Majesty. A few things I think it better if I do not repeat. I believe your mother was present because I also heard something that sounded like a discussion of disagreement in the background. Your father is consulting his mage. I think he will arrive with the mage shortly. Whatever your concern is with your parents, Majesty, they understand that this sort of magic cannot be allowed free use in our realm, or any other realm. There is too much potential for harm.”

  Brennan said, “You are aware, are you not, Taranath, of the true purpose of the Goblin King?”