Page 79
Story: The Fae Kings' Bargain
“Husband?” This time it was Mehl. “Didn’t she present her wedding invitation to this court yesterday?”
Lord Aony gave a semblance of a sad smile. “A ruse, as I said. Princess Lora was too afraid to invite you to her actual wedding. Under the circumstances.”
“One of the few truths he’s uttered this day,” Tes whispered.
As the discussion in the throne room shifted to a proper escort for the duke and the funeral bier, Ria peered at the group, searching for any details they’d missed. Everything appeared normal, on the surface. Even the poor, murdered woman dressed like the princess atop the bier would pass for her to any who didn’t know Tes particularly well. Surely, this wouldn’t fool King Ryenil?
She didn’t want to know what Ber planned to do about that.
Too bad Ria couldn’t see Toren’s and Mehl’s faces during this. For whatever reason, Toren wasn’t challenging Lord Aony’s lies. He’d even offered to execute Tes, though Ria couldn’t imagine that he’d been serious. Could it have been a test? She hoped so, because like it or not, the princess was his family now through marriage.
A surprising surge of protectiveness rushed through Ria. Lord Aony’s request to turn Tes over “to her family here” might not have been made in kindness, but it was the truth of the matter. Unless there was some other revelation to require otherwise, the princess was staying here.
This would have to be her home now—if they could keep her alive.
Chapter36
Family Connections
No one else in the room could measure Toren’s anger, but Mehl knew. He felt it in the pulse of his husband’s energy along their link and in the absolute, cool reserve in his demeanor. Each word his husband spoke was a chilling blow, delivered with such precision that the recipient couldn’t be certain they’d been struck. Only the most experienced courtiers had started casting uneasy glances between the High King and Lord Aony.
The duke appeared largely oblivious—Mehl didn’t trust that it was so. Lord Aony skated smoothly across the crackling ice of royal displeasure, a skill no doubt honed while living in the court of the prickly King Ryenil. He’d appeared less adept when delivering yesterday’s message, and that had Mehl studying him closely.
“It will take a great deal of time to reach Centoi, especially with a large entourage,” Lord Aony said.
“Aren’t you concerned about further brigands?” Toren asked, a hint of mockery in his lilting voice. “I would not wish to send you with insufficient protection.”
The duke didn’t so much as blink. “Once they’d finally roused, my soldiers dispatched all of the criminals who attacked. However, it is not the size of the escort that bothers me. We must move slowly with Princess Lora’s precious remains, and I would like to see her home quickly.”
“If you are suggesting I go to the expense of creating a magic portal for you after your deception, I’m afraid you will be disappointed.” Toren’s frosty tone nearly made Mehl wince, but Lord Aony showed no reaction. “However, I will grant you permission to request such from the Mages’ Guild in the city and encourage them to accept. The cost will be theirs to determine and yours to bear.”
It was a noticeable slight—but reasonable enough to avoid offense. That type of spell took several mages and a massive amount of energy, and that much effort deserved ample compensation. Even those among the nobility rarely went to such expense, especially since the mages didn’t always grant such requests. Only the High King’s order could guarantee it.
But a gate being opened directly between their palace and Ber’s new home? Toren would never allow the court mages to take such a risk. Access through the portal outside the city wasn’t entirely safe, either, but it was more easily mitigated. Mehl made note of who he would need to contact amongst the mages to ensure the access point was well-monitored. At least additional soldiers in their “honor guard” wouldn’t draw attention.
“I see,” Lord Aony said, a hint of his unhappiness slipping through. Perhaps intentionally. “I suppose I understand your reticence under the circumstances.”
Toren inclined his head. “Do pass along my condolences to my brother. Despite our current discord, I would not wish him to experience the loss of a wife.”
After all his smoothness, that simple statement appeared to take Lord Aony aback. “Ah, yes. Of course. I will tell him so. That is…kind.”
“I do not forget family, Lord Aony. You may be assured of that.” Toren waved a hand toward the door. “I will not keep you. Outside, Feref will direct you to your escort to the Mages’ Guild. Oh, and as one last assurance… We will be happy to take care of the problem soldier who dared to sneak into our palace. King Ryenil and Prince Ber will have no need to worry over her dispensation after her incursion here.”
Mehl caught a hint of relief on the duke’s face before he bowed, but the man surely hadn’t understood the undertones of Toren’s statement. Even if no one else in the room had enough information to recognize the promise, Toren was taking formal responsibility for Tes. He would leave Ber to assume what form “dispensation” would take, and the prince would no doubt assume the darkest outcome had occurred.
Killing the princess was clearly what Ber would do, after all.
Of course, thehowof sheltering Tes held its own complications. Toren would insist she be placed in the family wing now that he’d tacitly accepted her, but her true identity would need to be hidden since Ber and Lord Aony wanted her dead. There had to be a way to reconcile the two. Some excuse for her presence.
While Toren oversaw Lord Aony’s departure, Mehl considered his husband’s sad family tree. He did have some cousins, but they weren’t close enough—in age, interest, or proximity—to visit often. The guest rooms of the family wing remained empty more decades than they were used. Could Toren pretend that Tes was one such distant relation?
A question that would need answering sooner rather than later.
* * *
“Let’sgo back to Toren’s office,” Ria said gently as Lord Aony exited the throne room.
Tes cast her a bewildered glance. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
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