by Terry Spear
“Aye, my lady, at once.” Looking immensely relieved, the maid quickly vacated the room.
“I want you to pack your…” The lady glanced around the room, then motioned to the one bag. “…bag and clear out.”
“By Prince Creshion"s orders?” Sessily asked, not believing the woman could be so demanding of someone she didn"t know a thing about.
“By my orders!” the woman said.
“Oh. So you outrank the prince?” The woman appeared to be a couple of years older than Sessily, but way younger than the queen so Sessily knew she couldn"t be the queen.
The woman glowered at her.
Sessily shrugged. “I guess you"re not the queen. But if you"ll give me your name, I"ll be sure to tell the prince what you"ve told me.”
The woman stared at her, her mouth opening and shutting. Then she turned around, yanked open the door, and stormed into the hall. Sessily stalked to the door to shut it, saw three male fae watching her, felt her whole body heat with mortification, and slammed the door.
At least she"d been wearing a towel. She quickly dressed in the silky blue gown Creshion had given her before anyone else came knocking at the door.
The maid returned as Sessily admired the gown in the gold-gilt mirror. “Do you know where the prince is?” Sessily asked, as the maid combed out her wet hair.
“In the kitchen, my lady. Do you need me for anything else?”
“No, thank you. I"ll let the prince know how kind you"ve been.”
The maid gave her a timorous smile, curtseyed, and shut the door on her departure.
Not long after, another knock sounded but before Sessily could say anything, the door opened and three ladies strode into the room.
“Who are you?” the one asked, her gaze taking in the whole of Sessily as if measuring her worth.
“No one of consequence,” Sessily said, taking a seat on one of the cushioned chairs.
“Who are you?”
“If you are no one of consequence, why do you sit before us?” a blond fae snarled, her eyes sharp with hate.
“No one of consequence to you, mayhap, but of great importance to Prince Creshion,”
Sessily said, smiling.
That shut them all up. They had to know that if she had traveled here with the prince and was now sharing his room, she meant something to him. Even as a lover, she would not be ill-treated by those of lesser rank than the queen.
“You have seen me. You may leave.”
The women stared at her as if they couldn"t believe that she would dismiss them!
But having nothing further to say, at least to her, vowing revenge among themselves, they left her alone.
When they had cleared out of the room, Sessily slipped on her shoes and left the chamber. The maid was waiting outside the door, wringing her hands. “I"m so sorry, my lady.
The prince said…”
“Aye, that you are not to allow anyone to disturb me. And since it is not working, will you escort me to the kitchen?”
“Oh, aye, yes, my lady.” The maid had to know that the prince himself would not allow anyone to provoke Sessily, which is why Sessily decided to be with him.
When they arrived at the kitchen, Sessily found the prince alone, searching through a cabinet. “Looking for something?” she asked.
He whipped around and smiled at her with such admiration, she felt her whole body warm. “The gown is lovely, my lord. Thank you for such an exquisite gift.”
The maid was still standing nearby, and Sessily motioned to her. “Mistress Nesten has been so helpful, but I"m afraid some of the ladies of your court would not mind her protests.”
Creshion pulled out a basket, filled it with food he"d pilfered, and headed for Sessily.
“Then you will need my protection. Should they barge into my chambers when I am there…” He smiled.
She loved it when he wore that expression of pure dark delight. She would not want to be in any of the ladies" shoes should they barge in while he was there.
She glanced at the maid who looked as though she"d love to be watching the whole scenario should it occur.
“Come, my lady. Let us enjoy a feast fit for a king.”
Back in his chambers, the prince set out the meal on a table and pulled up two cushioned chairs. Sessily was much impressed, but just as she was taking a bite of the sharp cheese, someone shoved the door open without even knocking and in stalked two women, mouths quickly gaping to see the prince dining with Sessily, and both immediately mumbled apologizes, curtseying and backing out of the door, shutting it quickly with a clunk.
Sessily imagined the word had spread that she was alone except for the maid and anyone could intrude on Sessily"s privacy if they wished to give her grief.
Creshion chuckled. “What did I tell you, my lady? All you needed was my protection.”
Sessily smiled. “Why do you think I asked Mistress Nesten to take me to you?”
“Ah, well, I thought you just missed my company.”
“You have found me out,” she said, smiling again. She didn"t think he had such a sense of humor when she first had met him. But it was so subtle at times, she had to really pay attention to catch it.
When it was time for bed, Creshion pulled the trundle bed out from under his curtained bed and eyed it. It was shorter than he was, but Sessily had already slept on the floor, he needed her services, and she was not sleeping in the trundle bed that was drafty and the mattress not half as soft.
“The bed is small,” he said, glancing from the trundle bed to Sessily, looking hopeful that she would change her mind and take the trundle bed instead suited more for her petite size.
“Aye. But much better than the floor.” She climbed into his bed and shut the curtains.
***
The next morning, Sessily woke to voices speaking outside Creshion"s chamber door.
One was Creshion"s and the other male voices she didn"t recognize.
“She"s sleeping still,” the prince said. “And no, she will not be sharing meals today with the court. The king and queen will return to the castle tonight at the ball, and that"s when the lady will also make her appearance.”
“You know with all the secrecy, many are making up their own stories about you and the lady,” a man said.
He actually sounded very much like Creshion.
“Aye, well, the fae do love a good tale.”
“Would you mind if we join you? We could bring up the morning meal and—”
“You can bring up the morning meal, but we wish our privacy, Tarn.”
Silence.
Sessily stretched, rolled over, and fully intended to drift back into the world of fairytales.
“I"ve heard that the ladies of the court had mercilessly bothered your lady friend. Did you need us to fend them off?”
Creshion laughed. “As much as you both like. Now, if you"ll bring up the morning meal, just be sure the lady has a portion of some kind of meat—and no ale.”
Sessily smiled and closed her eyes. She was beginning to like the cobra fae prince. Which she knew could be a really big mistake.
***
All day long, Creshion had stayed with Sessily, ensuring her privacy as he described the layout of the castle, who was who, what to expect. He also presented her with another lovely gown, compliments of two fairy spinners who could weave a silky creation within a matter of hours.
Both were highly sought after for their skills, he"d told her, except last night they worked only for Creshion as he would have three gowns made for her for the time she was here.
She couldn"t believe after their rocky beginning, how much the prince was treating her like a princess. But she had to remind herself that it was all in the pursuit of her ridding him of a monster in his court.
The ball was in full swing by the time Prince Creshion escorted Sessily to the great hall, which was his intention—arrive late with Sessily on his arm when everyone was somewhat occupied in conversation and drink. Of course,
as soon as he arrived, a lord greeted them, bowing low, his gaze shifting to Sessily, then back to Creshion. “My prince, the lady"s name?”
She knew then the lord intended to announce the prince"s arrival, but he couldn"t until he knew her name.
Creshion said, “The lady is my companion.”
The lord still waited to hear her name.
“State her position as such,” Creshion said, sounding impatient.
Sessily thought Creshion seemed ill-at-ease. Was he worried about her having to face the fae women of his court at a function like this? She could handle them. She swept her free hand over her coiffure, then over her gown. Her pins were ready. Although she hadn"t intended to use them. She needed to keep her secrets so that she"d have the advantage when she could see the queen alone.
The lord glanced back at the room filled with courtiers, who in silence were all watching the prince and Sessily expectantly. The lord cleared his throat.
“Lord Montfort, do as I say,” Creshion insisted.
“Aye, my lord.” The man again cleared his throat and cast his voice across the huge room that was filled only with light music. “The royal crown prince, Creshion Fairhaven of Salamain and his lovely companion…”
He sounded like he was about to say a name, then realizing he didn"t have one to offer, he motioned in a most gracious manner for the prince and Sessily to enter.
The place was filled with bouquets of flowers, the floral fragrance filling the hall with the scent of honey, jasmine, sweet tea and the sweet waters the women and some of the men wore.
Women were dressed in the latest in stylish fashions, the colorful over-sheers covering darker gowns floating about them as they moved as if a constant breeze drifted through the room.
Even Sessily"s gown was of the latest style, violet and blue sheers intermingled that set off her dark hair and eyes. The cut of the gown was low enough to give the men pause, although she thought maybe the gown dipped too low at the bodice the way Creshion"s gaze had lingered there several times already. The skirt flowed with her movements, the weight of the fabric light and airy just like any fae loved when attending a ball. Most fae did not have wings, but this was nearly like having them as the women drifted around the great hall, floating like winged fairies.
She hated shopping for clothes. But she did attend the semi-annual ball of the Denkar and was loathe to wear something outdated and face the butt of tons of fae jokes. The men did not care, but the woman…
Did they not have anything better to do with their time than worry about the cut of their gowns or the fabrics or the colors they wore?
Everyone was looking at her, lips parted, eyes wide, studying the way she moved—was it noble enough? The way she looked—was she beautiful enough? Or had she glamoured herself to appear more lovely? What of the way her gowns appeared?—the fashion, the fabric, the hue of the dyes?
“I venture to say every man and woman is envious of you. The men, because you are with me. The women, because you are with me.” Creshion gave her a wicked smile.
“You…appear to be enjoying yourself.”
“The ball never has appealed to me. I usually get here right before everyone goes home for the night. I"m sure much talk will ensue that I am here even before the opening of the dance.”
He leaned over and murmured in Sessily"s ear, his warm breath tickling her, sending a frission of heat cascading through her blood, “The queen is not here yet, nor is my uncle. The dancing will begin as soon as they arrive.”
She nodded, somewhat relieved she didn"t have to meet them just yet. She wanted to mingle, get her bearings, study the others of the court before she had to watch her step while the queen was observing her as well.
Not seconds after Creshion had spoken to Sessily, a woman stalked toward them in the most viperous of ways, not ladylike in the least, but more like a tigress after her tiger, wanting to dispatch of the woman in her way.
“Prince Creshion,” the woman oozed, grabbing his arm and snuggling up close to him.
She was a redhead with sea blue eyes that danced with the warmth of the Caribbean waters of the human world. But as soon as she glanced in Sessily"s direction, her blue eyes chilled. She didn"t let go of Creshion, but seemed to tighten her hold even further. “You brought someone to our court to play with, eh, my prince?”
He frowned at the woman. “Lady Sessily bites back, Lady Fabian. I would take care around her if I were you.”
Sessily didn"t need anyone to warn off the fae who might find her a challenge. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.
The redhead still clung to the prince, and he didn"t make any effort to disentangle himself from Lady Fabian"s grasp, which irritated Sessily. How was she supposed to pretend to be his lover if he was letting another woman get her claws into him?
“Where are you from?” Lady Fabian asked Sessily, her words couched in hostility. She was sure to attempt to make fun of wherever Sessily was from, unless Lady Fabian knew Sessily was a dark fae or maybe a dragon fae. Neither was the kind of fae that most others took for granted.
But maybe the cobra fae females wouldn"t have enough sense to know that.
“Do you mind, Prince Creshion? I need something to drink.” Sessily didn"t need his okay. She was used to mingling in the courts of most kingdoms, mixing, blending, learning what she needed to in order to complete her missions. But she"d never been to the cobra court before.
How bad could it be?
Both men and women of all ages stared at Sessily as she moved through the small groups of courtiers gathered together as she headed for the refreshments set out on a long table.
“I haven"t formally met you,” a gentleman said to her, taking a glass of some kind of red concoction off the table and handing it to her. “Fairy punch, not fermented,” he said, when she hesitated to accept it.
Did he realize she had an aversion to fermented drinks? If so, how did he know such a thing? Even the wine Creshion had brought her earlier was too much for her. She just didn"t like the way that fermented drinks fuzzed her thought processes.
“Hmm,” she said, “thank you.” She thought the fae looked similar to Creshion, same dark hair, same blue eyes, though his smile was more mischievous than cynical.
“I"m Lord Eaton, and you are?”
“Lady Sessily.”
“You came with Prince Creshion.”
Though the lord had not asked her a question, she answered in the affirmative anyway.
“Yes.”
“I see.” He glanced back at the prince across the ballroom and smiled. “He doesn"t like it that you"re speaking with me. Now he has ditched Lady Fabian and is headed across the floor to protect you.”
“Do I need protection?” she asked, amused. She didn’t need protection. She was certain Creshion had felt she had needed his help in the dark alley when the thief was trying to crush her skull with the cudgel, but she hadn"t wanted to kill the man. Just do her assigned task. An assassin didn"t kill just anyone who got in his or her way. She didn"t believe in collateral damage.
And she thought if the thief had stolen from Lord Davenport, it would give the constable something to gnaw on when he tried to discover motive concerning the lord"s death.
“Do you need protection from me?” Lord Eaton smiled again. “No, from the prince, most assuredly. I"m his cousin and he ought to know I"ve lost my heart to a Lady Marguerite. But you, dear lady, are definitely at risk where the prince is concerned.”
She laughed, not believing it for an instant. Then she frowned. “You are not speaking of Lady Marguerite of the spinx fae?”
Straightening, Lord Eaton suddenly looked very interested. “Why yes. Do you know her?”
“Yes.” Vaguely. To save her. “So you intend to wed her?”
He sighed. “As soon as she"ll have me.”
Sessily narrowed her eyes at Lord Eaton, recalling what Creshion had said to Lord Davenport concerning being owed money. “You will cease gambling, sir.”
“Gambling?” Lord Eaton asked, genuinely looking puzzled.
“Lord Davenport owed you money. And you owed Lord…” Sessily hesitated. Creshion had referred to himself as a lord, not a crown prince at the time. She quickly amended, “Prince Creshion money.”
Lord Eaten raised his brows. “Is that what the prince said? He jests. I never gamble, nor does he. We believe only in a sure thing.”
That sounded more like the prince she knew. Although, in a way, wasn"t bringing her here to assassinate the queen, the biggest gamble of them all?
She wondered why Creshion would say anything about gambling debts to Lord Davenport then. Had he meant to give him another message? One that only he and Lord Davenport had been privy to? But why had he insisted on Lady Marguerite being present?
Unless to let her know that her new husband was gambling her money away.
Sessily watched as the prince moved among his people, several blocking his path to speak with him, probably asking her who she was. His expression was dark as he continued on his way, barely answering those who spoke with him, attempting to move across the floor to reach Sessily. His eyes narrowed and his lips thinned even more as he gave Lord Eaton another killing glower as another man stopped the prince from making any more headway.
“Yes,” Lord Eaton said, “I rather do believe the prince is not happy with me speaking with you. But he really ought to know I have no designs on you, my lady. So what fae…” He glanced down at the gold medallion mostly hidden by her gown. “…what fae kingdom are you with that you ventured into the snake pit of the cobra fae?”
“The Denkar. Royal house, cousin once removed from Prince Deveron.” Sessily didn"t want him thinking she was from one of the minor royal houses of the kingdom.
“Crown prince of the Denkar,” Lord Eaton said, making a very low bow, appearing to be most impressed. But she wasn"t sure whether he was impressed with her, or with Creshion for having brought her here. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. You are a duchess, then?”
“Yes.”
He smiled. “Lady Fabian will have fits. Well, more so than she already is having. She is a baroness.”
