by Terry Spear
“Are you?” he asked again.
“Yes, yes. I"ll be right down.”
“Now, mother says. You are already way too late.”
“Go away, Deveron. I"m doing the job Mother wanted me to do. If I miss the meal, I can eat in my chambers.”
“She won"t like it unless you"re sick.”
Ritasia stuck the ancient comb in her leather pouch.
Deveron"s eyes widened. “You cannot remove artifacts from the vault. You"re only to ensure they get there and stay there.”
“I"m going to try and clean up the gems and see if they are brilliant or of such a poor cut that they won"t shine at all. Surely the dirt on them isn"t valuable.”
“All right. Come on.” He took her arm and pulled her out of the vault, then locked it. “If I have to eat dinner with Mother, you have to.”
This time Ritasia widened her eyes. “Why? What"s wrong now?”
“More of a case of who"s coming to dinner.”
“Who"s coming to dinner?”
Deveron grimaced when he looked at her, but he didn"t say.
She slugged him. “Who, Deveron?” Then she got a really bad feeling about this. “Not that arrogant Duke Feneroal from the sphinx fae kingdom, is it? I thought we"d ruined his visit to such a degree he"d never come back.”
Deveron smiled.
“Unless he"s returned to get even. Micala and Niall might have gone a bit too far.”
“Our cousins?” Deveron snorted. “You"re the one that slipped the sleeping powder into his wine, making him fall fast asleep in his pudding. Talk about shocked courtiers. Not to mention Mother. Luckily, he didn"t suffocate in the stuff.”
“I didn"t expect him to pass out. Well? Is it him?”
“No, not him.”
“Who then?”
“Someone I"ve never seen before, but he wants Mother to allow him to court you.”
She rolled her eyes. Fifth fae in a week.
“And Prince Raglan was here earlier, looking for you, all in quite a state. He wouldn"t tell me what it was all about, and then Mother learned that he was there, she took him to task, though I still don"t know what was going on, and sent him back to his own kingdom.”
Ritasia frowned at her brother. “Whatever did he want?”
Deveron shrugged. “I have no idea.” Then he gave Ritasia an accusing look. “You"re not intending to pull any shenanigans at dinner with this potential suitor, too, are you? Mother said she wouldn"t tolerate it.”
“As if I"m the only one who pulls them. Between you and our cousins…speaking of which, where is Micala? He"d better not be with that human girl, Cassie, or Mother will be furious. She might even make him do the job she"s assigned to me.”
“I highly doubt it. She"s told me she"s much pleased with the way you"ve been so dedicated to your job. She only wishes she had tasked you to do it earlier on.”
Ritasia hmpfed under her breath. Then she wondered why Deveron had come for her when she thought Alicia was making a special guest appearance at dinner, and he would have been too busy visiting with her. “Has Alicia not arrived yet?”
Deveron didn"t say anything, but his expression darkened.
“She"s not coming,” Ritasia guessed aloud. “Why? Because she"s mad at you for not making Micala stop dating her friend Cassie?”
“There"s nothing wrong in it as long as neither of them make a big deal of it. And no one catches them at it.”
Ritasia stared at her brother in shock. How could he say such a thing? “Of course there is.
And you know it. A human is no match for a fae. Mother forbids long-term engagements between our people and theirs.”
“I"ve talked to Micala again. All right?”
“And?”
Deveron shrugged.
“Well, I"ve talked to him also. But he rarely listens to me. What about having Mother speak with him?”
“I don"t dare tell her.”
“Why not? Surely she would set him straight before this really gets out of hand.” Ritasia saw the worried look on her brother"s face. “What?” Then she frowned. “No. She wouldn"t.”
“Aye Mother might. One human girl is of no consequence.”
“Maybe not to most fae. But Alicia would be angered beyond reason if Mother should even think of eliminating Cassie. And she probably would be mad at you, too.”
“Yeah, well, don"t tell Mother.”
Ritasia gave her brother a sour look. “As if I"d want the human girl"s death on my hands.
And Alicia happens to be my friend, you know. So I totally sympathize with her. I like Cassie also, the truth be known.” Then she frowned at her brother. “So who is this dinner guest?”
“One of the hawk fae from halfway around the world.”
Ritasia stared at her brother. “We know very little about them. Almost nothing in fact.”
Then she frowned, recalling the one she had met on the plane. “The war minister from the hawk fae kingdom?”
“Who?” He shook his head. “Mother wants you to get to know him. She has all kinds of getting-to-know-each-other activities planned for the two of you.”
“When I said no to the other twenty-five, she dropped them as possible suitors. Why not this time?”
“He"s a king.”
Ritasia pulled her brother to a full stop in the hallway outside the great hall where everyone was gathering for the dinner and cheerful conversation filled the room. “How old is he?” If it was the war minister for the king, he was her age and handsome. But the king? She was thinking ancient, like Alicia"s grandfather who ruled over the dragon fae. Or Prince Raglan"s father who was middle-aged, for the fae, and set in his ways. Although he was seeing a fae who was not much older than Ritasia. A shudder ran through her body.
“Not much older than you. He"s just taken over upon his father"s death. And he needs a queen to rule alongside him.”
“Why consider me? Why not someone from his kingdom or one of the closer fae kingdoms? Is he an ogre? Everyone knows the truth about him for miles around so he has to come all this way to find an acceptable bride?” She shook her head. “It"s on the other side of the world. I don"t want to live that far away.”
“It"s not exactly on the other side of the world. And Mother wants you to seriously consider him.”
Ritasia wouldn"t. She wasn"t going to leave this hemisphere for anything or anyone, even if he was a king.
Ritasia was glad she hadn"t had time to change out of her dusty brown clothes that she"d worn just for going to the dig. Her mother would have a fit. Deveron, typical brother, never even noticed or he would have insisted she change before arriving at the great hall. Either that or he hadn"t liked the king and was hoping Ritasia could discourage him in this way. No king would be interested in a princess who arrived at the supper meal wearing dusty male breeches and a tunic. How could he possibly view her as his queen? She smiled evilly.
As soon as they entered the great hall, all conversation ceased and a hush descended, making Ritasia feel suddenly self-conscious. Everyone had already taken their seats, and everyone was dressed as if they were celebrating a regal affair.
Which made Ritasia stand out even more.
When Prince Deveron and Princess Ritasia walked toward the dais, nearly everyone but the queen rose in silent greeting, bowing their heads or curtseying.
Ritasia wished more than ever that she"d taken her meal in her room.
Her mother was glowering at her. Partly, because she was late. But also because of the way she was dressed.
Ritasia was not at fault that her mother had given her this job to do. The work took longer than she"d expected. And her mother hadn"t given her time to change clothes either. Well, Deveron hadn"t.
Ritasia stood straighter and headed for her seat at the high table, then saw that a man was seated in her chair. “Why is that man sitting in my chair?”
“That is the king. He has a Celtic human kind of name that means regal.”
“Is he? Or ju
st some barbarian king? Or something else…” She let her words trail off as she studied the king, his posture, leaning forward at the table, interested.
Wavy light brown hair and smiling blue eyes caught her attention. She wasn"t certain if he was amused in a way that said she looked comical to him—especially the way she was dressed, or if he liked what he saw. She decided the way his mouth curved up, that he thought she served as the jester for the court.
He was as handsome as Brandolin, his war minister, just as tall and regal.
“His name is Tiernan. And you are to behave yourself,” her brother belatedly told her.
“Right.”
Was he a soft ruler? One who didn"t really work for a living but was more of a figurehead? Some rulers were and their advisors or counsel of advisors ruled instead. She certainly didn"t want to be married to anyone like that. Not that she was even seriously considering such an arrangement. She did not want to leave this part of the fae globe.
“I suspect that Prince Raglan knew something of this king, came here to warn you, and wanted to be seated at the head table with us, but Mother said no and sent him away.”
Ritasia sighed. “I will have to thank him for trying to save me.”
From the moment she had stepped into the great hall and noticed the king, his gaze had remained fixed on her. Probably judging her grace and bearing. Well, she had no intention of behaving in whatever way he envisioned his queen should perform. Which meant she would act the way she normally did and not put on any pretentious airs.
Although as soon as she reached her seat, she hadn"t quite meant to say what she did. Not with her mother looking on.
“You are sitting in my chair, my lord.” She said the words very civilly, she thought.
Although he quirked a brow and lowered his chin as if giving her one of those looks. Like really?
In a way that wasn"t a question. She was telling a fae king, a hawk fae king, and a guest of the dark fae, that he shouldn"t be sitting in her seat?
But she didn"t stop there. “You may sit there if it pleases you.” She pointed to Micala"s seat since he was not at the meal.
Her mother"s mouth gaped and for once she didn"t have an immediate rebuke ready for Ritasia.
The king gave Ritasia such a sinister smile, she was afraid she might have gone a little too far with her first encounter with him. She quickly remembered her manners, curtseyed, though because she wasn"t wearing a gown, she thought she looked a little ridiculous, then looked back up at him.
She immediately rethought her position when she saw how much her mother was glowering daggers at her. She realized moving the king would put her right next to her mother, which was normally where she sat and that was the point she was trying to make. But it would be too difficult getting away with much mischief if she sat that close to her mother.
Before she could amend her statement, the king spoke. “I take it this is your lovely daughter, Princess Ritasia, my lady,” Tiernan addressed Queen Irenis, his voice deep and appealing. Too appealing.
Ritasia wasn"t sure he was being sincere in his compliment, or being facetious instead, considering the way she had treated him.
“Yes, and she will take her cousin"s seat at once,” Queen Irenis said. Her biting words warned Ritasia not to take her disobedience any further.
Ritasia wasn"t stupid. But being the queen"s daughter, she had some of her stubbornness, and the notion still irked her that she would be relegated to her cousin"s chair instead of her own.
She had half a mind to sit at one of the lower tables where the queen made Micala sit when he displeased her. She swore her mother could not read minds, but the queen pointed at Micala"s vacated chair at the high table, as if silently warning her not to try her patience any further.
“Nay!” King Tiernan said. “If the lady feels more comfortable in her own chair, so be it.”
“I"ll take Micala"s chair,” Ritasia quickly said, curtseying to both the queen and the king, and trying not to look pleased that she had her way once she"d come to her senses. To her surprise and embarrassment, he quickly stood, pulled Micala"s chair out for her, then once she was seated, her face had to be as flushed as the red clay soil at the dig as hot as it was, she sat down.
She noticed just how quiet the great hall still was as every eye was on her. And him.
He leaned down and whispered into her ear, “It won"t work, you know.”
His warm breath against her sensitive skin made her heart thump irregularly. She looked up at him as he towered over her, that same elusive smile playing on his mouth.
He didn"t…intimidate her, exactly. But she was quickly coming to the conclusion that she couldn"t…manipulate him like she could the other men who had feigned the least bit of interest in her. Which was partly the reason she wasn"t interested in them in return, she belatedly realized.
Queen Irenis quickly signaled for the meal to begin as the king and Deveron—she finally noticed he"d been waiting to see what happened next, ever the protective brother and she loved him for it—took their seats and everyone else followed suit.
“I see by your clothes that you"ve just come from the digs. Your mother said you were verifying the finds.” He had pulled her chair too close to the one he was sitting in—that was normally hers—and his leg was indecently touching hers.
But when she tried to scoot Micala"s chair away, he seized the arm and shook his head.
“Sit still, unless you wish to provoke your mother"s ire further.”
He was a tyrant!
She ground her teeth, then said, “Why are you here?” She figured she"d get the truth out of him sooner than later.
He smiled again, but this time it was more as though she"d asked some inane question.
She continued, figuring she"d have to spell it out for him. “Have you no women from where you come from who would want to marry you?”
Well, that wasn"t exactly the way she meant to say it. She"d meant to be much more tactful, but when he wouldn"t let her move away from him, he"d provoked her ire.
“Oh, aye,” he said, his blue eyes darkening. “Women so beautiful, they take a man"s breath away. Who are so willing to do whatever a man desires. Who…”
“Ahh, then why did you come here? You will find no woman like that here.” Well, of course he would, but not when it came to her!
He grinned. “Which do you mean? Not beautiful, or…unwilling to bow to a man"s wishes?”
“A doormat of a woman. Unless she is paid for her services.”
Both of his brows lifted.
“A maid who works for the man. If you work for someone and he…” She didn"t like the look of amusement on his face. “Never mind. We don"t have the kind of women here that you seek. I"m certain my mother will ensure that you are well entertained before you leave, but—”
“Aye, she has planned several outings for us.”
Ritasia"s mouth dropped, but she quickly recovered. What part of she wasn"t going to be included in this whole scene didn"t he get?
“You cannot be serious.” She didn"t want to mention that she wouldn"t suit him as a bride, when he might not be considering such a thing at all and laugh his head off. Maybe he was bored and thought to seek some entertainment before he returned to his kingdom of beautiful, willing women.
“I"m always, well, mostly always serious. Tonight—”
“Tonight, I"m taking a bath and retiring for the evening after the meal. My mother might have mentioned she gave me an important job to do. I have to be up early for the digs.” She lifted her chin, waiting for his reaction, expecting he"d get her point that she was not going to roll over and play dead and do as he wished.
“After we walk in the gardens.”
His words were spoken so abruptly, she knew she didn"t have any choice. If she could just conjure up a rainstorm, she"d have it made.
“A brief walk,” she said, just as sharply.
The smile in his expression told her she wasn"t winning this game. She
assumed the only way to beat him was to solicit her cousins" help. She was certain Deveron wouldn"t go along with it. She wasn"t sure her cousins would either. Sometimes they could get away with their shenanigans. But when it came to defying Queen Irenis, the stakes had to be high enough. And she was certain her cousins wouldn"t interfere. Deveron would, if he thought Ritasia needed protection. But if he didn"t, well, she would be on her own.
Then she had an idea. She smiled sweetly. “Not the gardens. How about a trip to the digs?”
He frowned. “This late at night?”
“Aye.” She still wanted to see if she could find what the hinge in the ground led to.
His smile returned. “I see.”
She frowned at him. What did he see? “There"s something at the dig that I want to check out.”
He instantly sobered.
What? Did he think she was so taken with him that she wanted to be alone at the dig site with him? Please.
“Unchaperoned?” he asked, sounding a little surprised.
For an instant, she felt a flight of butterflies take off in her stomach. Why did the sound of his words, the lift of his brows, the interest in his voice, cause her such anxiety? “We would not be allowed to go to the digs this late at night, with or without a chaperone,” she said brusquely, keeping her voice low, but what did he think? She could do stuff like that without consequence? That was if she got caught?
So of course she couldn"t go there with a chaperone. And if she wasn"t forced to, she wouldn"t be taking him along either.
Chapter 5
The woman was an imp, King Tiernan thought. He was so surprised when she had told him— him, the king of the hawk fae—to move from her chair, that she had momentarily stunned him to silence. He couldn"t remember a time when anyone had done that too him. Not even his father, the king, as little as he"d seen of him.
Even the queen and all her courtiers hadn"t spoken a word when the princess had told him where to sit. Probably waiting to see his reaction. He couldn"t even imagine what his own advisor was thinking at the time, nor the lords who served as his entourage this trip. He envisioned them holding their breaths, waiting for him to tell the haughty princess just where she should sit. As the tyrant he was supposed to be would have done.
