House of Shadows: Royal Houses Book Two

by K. A. Linde

  His eyes gleamed. “I might have suggested it to my dear great-aunt. I missed you at the fall Season in Venatrix. It wasn’t the same without you. I hope we’ll get to spend more time together at this one.”

  “Perhaps,” she said coyly, searching for an excuse to get away.

  “I’d like to call on you while you’re in Rosemont for the week.”

  Kerrigan gulped. How could she say no to that? “I would like that,” she lied. He grinned, as if triumphant, and she continued, “However, I have training.”

  “Training? You have the week off.”

  “Not me,” she said.

  “Well, I could come watch your training,” he offered. “Or meet you afterward.”

  Gods, he was persistent.

  “I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”

  He blinked. “Whatever for?”

  She hated the words that were about to come out of her mouth. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this trip, but if she stayed in Rosemont, she’d be stuck with March the entire time. There’d be no escape.

  “I’m going home.”

  His eyes rounded. That was the last thing he’d expected. “To Corsica?”

  “Yes. To Waisley,” she whispered. She hadn’t uttered that word in twelve years. Couldn’t even think about Waisley without a fresh pang of despair. And now, she was committed.

  “I didn’t think that you still considered the House of Cruse home.”

  “It’s the first time I’ve been back. I’d like to see the estate and train on my own lands,” she told him, her heart aching at the very thought.

  “I could… accompany you.”

  They both knew it wasn’t proper for him to even suggest it. Courting had rules. Seeing her here was one thing, but returning home with her when they were betrothed without an invitation from her father was something else entirely.

  “You could write to Kivrin,” she said easily. “If he’s there…”

  He nodded. “I’ll do just that.” He bent at the waist once more, bringing her hand to his lips. “I look forward to seeing you again in your home. I have many fond memories of Waisley myself.”

  She shivered as he departed. Yeah, she remembered him skinning live squirrels and tormenting her. He didn’t seem like that boy any longer, but she couldn’t shake the feeling. She needed a way out of this engagement and fast. Perhaps her father would be home at Waisley, and they could correct this egregious error.

  38

  The Estate

  “We can’t train here,” Kerrigan told Fordham the next morning as she threw all of her clothes back into her traveling bag.

  He blinked at her in confusion. “Why ever not?”

  “Ashby March.”

  “Ah. And what does your fiancé have to do with this?”

  “He wants to court me. I had to think of a way to get rid of him.”

  Fordham was quiet for a moment before asking, “And what did you decide?”

  “I’m going home.”

  “All the way back to Kinkadia?” he asked in confusion.

  She sighed and looked back at him finally. “No. I suppose you will get to see my home, as I saw yours. We’re to go to Corsica, where the heart of the House of Cruse is. My father’s estate, Waisley.”

  Now, his eyebrows rose, and he crossed his arms. “All this to escape Lord March? Couldn’t you just break off the engagement?”

  “I don’t know. Kivrin said he’d look into it, and I intend to find a way to do it. I am not marrying him.” She sighed and threw her last cloak into the bag. “I have enough to figure out, Fordham. Basem’s killer is still loose, and we have no proof that it’s Lorian. Zina disappeared into the wind with our only hope of getting information about Mei. Not to mention, my probation.”

  “I understand,” he said, stepping up and holding her shoulders. “You’ve dealt with a lot. I should be on probation right there with you.”

  “But you never will be.”

  “Only because you sent me for help.”

  “We’re not having this discussion again,” she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “If I hadn’t sent you ahead, then I’d have been kicked out.”

  “I still think—”

  “Well, it didn’t happen. Now, get your bag. I have a month of training to make up for in ten days, and we have to be back for the party.”

  He glared at her interruption, but he went for his bag and came back with his pack. Kerrigan left a note for Audria, explaining as much of the situation as she dared. She’d gone into the spirit world this morning to explain to Tieran where they were going. He agreed to meet her in the stables. Though he objected to the name since he was not some ridiculous horse. Kerrigan laughing at the comparison hadn’t helped his ego.

  Still, Tieran waited for her when she came out of the glory of Belcourt Palace. Netta was beside him. She and Fordham saddled their dragons in companionable silence.

  “I thought I might find you here.”

  Kerrigan winced at the sound of March’s voice. She schooled her features and whirled around with a wide smile on her face. He held a small present in his hand.

  “Why, March, the holiday isn’t for another week.”

  He strode forward, narrowing his eyes at Fordham. “I thought you were going alone.”

  “Fordham is training me.”

  “Won’t he also need an invitation from your father?”

  Kerrigan swallowed and spoke the truest words. The ones that hurt the worst. “We’re not courting,” she said with a breezy laugh, as if unaffected. “It’s like bringing a riding coach with me.”

  Fordham’s shadows closed in tight around her at the words. The easy delivery. She could practically feel him wanting to snatch her away from March. But it also wasn’t wrong. No amount of time in the greenhouse could change that.

  “I see,” he said, rather skeptically. “Well, happy holiday.”

  She took the proffered box and opened it. A small gasp escaped her throat before she could stop it. A yellow diamond sat amid a halo of diamonds on a gold band.

  “March,” she whispered in what she hoped was awe rather than horror. “What… what did you do?”

  He plucked the ring out of the box, stripped her riding glove off of her left hand, and slowly slid the giant diamond onto her ring finger. “There. You always deserved a ring, and now, we are properly engaged.”

  She gaped at the giant thing on her hand. It was gorgeous and gaudy and way over the top. She loved it and wanted it off of her hand this very second.

  Instead, she put a hand to her chest. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

  He squeezed her hand, drawing her a step closer. “Come home to me soon, my love.”

  She nodded mutely.

  March flashed a smug look to Fordham. “Take care of my fiancée, will you?”

  “Oh, I will,” Fordham snarled.

  Her stomach dropped out as March just laughed and walked away.

  “Don’t say a word,” she snapped at Fordham. She dragged the ring off of her finger and threw it into her saddlebag. She couldn’t get the blasted thing off of her fast enough. She shoved her hand back into the glove and jumped on Tieran’s back.

  Can I say something? Tieran asked with mirth in his voice.

  “Not a word,” Kerrigan snapped.

  And then they were in the skies, and Kerrigan lay against Tieran’s back. What the hell was she going to do? Kivrin had better have a damn solution to this problem. She was going all the way to Waisley to get it.

  The flight to the Bryonican countryside took hardly any time at all. The seat of the House of Cruse was on thousands of acres of Corsica Forest. They bypassed the town of Lillington with its beautiful thatched-roof houses. Then, Waisley rose high on the next hill.

  Kerrigan’s breath hitched at the sight of it. She hadn’t thought about the house that she’d loved so dearly as a child. The various gray stones that created the exterior. The gardens were bare in the chill. Frost covered everything in
a soft winter wonderland, making it almost glow ethereally.

  When she’d been young with only a strapping father for company, she’d wanted to bring her mother to Waisley. She envisioned showing her the grounds and making her fall in love with the estate the way that Kerrigan was. But she’d never had a mother. Not really. Her name was Keres. She was a human woman, and she’d died in childbirth, giving Kerrigan nothing but her name. Human women rarely survived birthing a half-Fae child. The magic depleted and killed them. Which was still horrifying, considering most half-Fae were born of human mothers. So many unnecessary deaths.

  So, she’d never met her mother or taken her around the grounds. But still, when she looked at Waisley, she saw her there. All the hopes for a future that never came to be.

  Kerrigan signaled for Fordham to begin his descent, and they landed in an open field near the western gardens.

  This place smells of dragons, Tieran told her.

  “I descend from a long line of Society members. My grandmother, Enara, and great-grandfather, Coen, were both dragon riders,” she informed him.

  But not Kivrin. He’d lost the tournament to Lorian, and the feud had existed ever since. A feud she was currently embroiled in.

  One of the greats was here, Tieran explained. This will be fertile training grounds.

  A lump formed in her throat, and she could just nod. As much as she hated what had been done to her, she’d never thought she’d see Waisley again. She still loved it so.

  She slid off of Tieran’s back and retrieved her belongings, patting his back. “We’ll call when we start training.”

  Good. I’m more than ready.

  “Me too.”

  Fordham dropped off of Netta and stood passively by as she collected herself. She’d seen his home in the House of Shadows and his love-hate relationship with it. Now, it was his turn to witness it on her end.

  “Might as well go,” she said.

  He nodded and fell into step beside her as they walked to the north side of the house and up the gravel trail. A butler awaited their entrance, bowing deeply.

  “Mistress Argon,” he said formally. “Master Ollivier, welcome to Waisley.”

  “Hello, Warby,” Kerrigan greeted him. “Is my father in?”

  “Indeed, young mistress. He arrived last week and has been informed of your presence.”

  “Swell,” she muttered.

  “Allow me to escort you into the residence. Bedrooms are being prepared for you at present. I have refreshments in the sitting room.”

  Kerrigan nodded. Warby was exactly as she remembered him. A tall, rounded Fae male with thin blond hair and an angular nose. He wore House of Cruse livery and had been with the family for generations. His father before him and his father before him had worked for the Argons. Now, his children resided in Waisley and would take over for him.

  Warby opened the enormous double wood doors, and Kerrigan stepped back in time. Everything was precisely the same. As if no time at all had passed since she had last been here. Tightly woven rugs lined the hardwood floor. Gilded framed paintings of Argons past littered the walls. An enormous life-sized portrait of Mistress Enara Argon, the last Society member and revered mistress of Waisley, sat in a place of prominence at the top of the winding staircase.

  Her throat tightened, and before she could say a word, Kivrin strode into the room, plucking gloves off of his hands. “Kerrigan,” he said in surprise. Though she had no idea if it was genuine. “I thought you’d be in Rosemont.”

  “That was the plan,” she said. “But Fordham and I have some training to do. I thought I’d show him around in the meantime.”

  Fordham bowed to her father. “Sir.”

  Kivrin shot the prince a look that said his presence was less than welcome. “Don’t you have the holiday off?”

  “We do, but circumstances dictated this being necessary.”

  She was purposely opaque about her answer. But he nodded as if he knew all about her probation. He liked to stick his nose in her business. So, he probably did know.

  “Though March seemed upset that we were leaving Belcourt,” she said.

  “Ah, did he?”

  “Indeed.” She felt the yellow diamond that she’d transferred into her pocket like a brand. “He said that he would be writing to you about coming to visit for courting.”

  Kivrin arched an eyebrow. “We’d be honored, wouldn’t we?”

  “Honored,” she said dryly.

  “Well,” Kivrin said, clapping his hands together, “I’m sure you’ve had a hard day of travel and would prefer to change into something more suitable for the luncheon.”

  “We have training. We won’t be stopping until evening.”

  “Dinner then,” he said.

  “Unfortunately, no. The hospitality is appreciated but unnecessary,” she said. “We’ll make do as we train.”

  Kivrin showed no outward sign of displeasure at the words and just nodded. “Very well. Kerrigan, may I have a word in private?”

  Warby teetered back and forth. “I can show Master Fordham to his room.”

  Kerrigan winced and glanced at Fordham. “Do you mind?”

  “Not at all.”

  She nodded at him and then followed her father through Waisley. Her feet carried her through the grand house by memory. He opened a side door, leading to his study. A giant desk and three walls of books took up the majority of the room. The fourth wall was a row of windows that opened to the gardens beyond. It smelled of ink and parchment and the particular softness she’d only ever associated with Waisley.

  “I didn’t think I’d ever see you here again,” Kivrin said when the door closed behind her.

  “I didn’t think I’d ever come back.”

  “It suits you.”

  She shrugged. The house had seemed to warm at her first step through the door. As if it remembered and welcomed her.

  “What made you change your mind?”

  “March,” she said simply. “It was the only way I could think to avoid him.”

  He nodded. “Ah.”

  “Did you discover what to do about that? You said you’d look into it. What did you find?”

  He leaned back against his mahogany desk, crossing his arms over the navy-blue doublet, and stared back at his daughter. The playboy prince and the lost princess. They were quite a pair. “Not much.”

  She huffed. “I’m telling him at the Season party that it’s over. Is there no recourse?”

  “You can call it off, but you would be in breach of contract. If he wanted to, he could sue you… us.” He sighed. “He could come after the estate for it.”

  “After Waisley?”

  He nodded once curtly. “I signed the betrothal agreement. How serious do you think he is?”

  Kerrigan produced the yellow diamond ring and showed it to him. “I think he’s serious.”

  “Gods,” Kivrin said, plucking the ring from her hand. “What a rock.”

  “So ostentatious.”

  “Is this about the dark prince?”

  She rolled her eyes. “As if I would ever marry a man that I didn’t love.”

  “Love is not usually in the cards, I’m afraid.”

  “I’m not Bryonican.”

  “No, but can you afford to lose the support of the tribe?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “Nothing,” he said, obviously not meaning it. “I’m prepared to deliver payment if that’s what he wants. I never relinquished your dowry. It’s a considerable amount.”

  “Oh,” she whispered. “That’s quite generous.”

  “I got you into this. I suppose I should help get you out.”

  “Indeed.”

  She looked at her father again. The man she had despised for so many years. She’d sworn she’d never forgive him for what he’d done, but he seemed so much… less alone in this big estate, than he when he was surrounded by so many others at his Row parties. As if the last twelve years hadn’
t been as kind to him as he wanted her to believe.

  “Thank you,” she said finally.

  He nodded at her. “How long will I expect you to stay?”

  “We’ll fly back the day of the party.”

  “I’ll have the cook prepare food for you while you’re here.”

  “And if March writes…”

  “I’ll give you plenty of time alone with your prince.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what this is about.”

  “I was once young and in love, Kerrigan,” he said easily. “I can recognize the signs.”

  “We’re here to train.”

  Kivrin smiled knowingly. “If you say so.”

  Damn, if she couldn’t even fool her father, then who was she fooling?

  39

  The Flight

  Kerrigan was born for the skies. Watching the others fly while she was grounded had been pure torture. And now that she and Fordham were at the clearing to begin training, she just wanted to lie back on Tieran’s back and let him take over.

  Not that it was possible. They had a lot of work to do if they were going to keep up with the others. Ten days to catch up with what the others had been doing for an entire month. And they had to do it without a bond. It was impossible as far as she was concerned, but she refused to give up.

  “We will make this work,” she said, letting the words whip away into the wind.

  I’m willing to try, Tieran said into her mind. If you’re willing to try.

  It was the most he’d said to her other than to make fun of her. He was still pissed that she’d been arrested. Which was all well and good because she was pissed too. What Lorian had done was outrageous. She wasn’t going to let him win this one by giving up.

  “I’m definitely willing to try,” she told him.

  They descended into Enara Meadow, named after her grandmother. She’d been on the Society Council for nearly a hundred years and leader of it for several decades. Kivrin never spoke of her. So, all Kerrigan had were legends.

  “This is sufficient,” Fordham said as he jumped from Netta’s back.