Page 73 of A Promise of Lies (Shadows of the Tenebris Court #3)

KAT

B astian and I decided we’d take our time and walk to Rose and Faolán’s for dinner. It had been a busy month since our trip to the border and summer was at its height. Tonight, however, there was a nip in air, a reminder that autumn would be upon us soon enough, but I didn’t have it in me to complain. This was the first night we’d both had free in weeks and nothing could sour my mood.

We chatted as we passed through the palace corridors, catching up on the day. He’d finished rearranging his workroom in readiness to start making new creations in there rather than only fixing broken things. Amongst Braea’s belongings we’d found Nyx’s sketchbooks—it turned out she had been a sculptor, and that had given him the idea. The plan was to try out clay, like she had used, and wood carving like Sylen, but he was still waiting on some materials to arrive so he could get started. “Not that I have time to use them,” he muttered before falling quiet as we crossed the bridge leading to the city.

I held my breath all the way, turning to him with a raised eyebrow once we set foot on the street. “Well?”

“Nothing. I think it worked.”

He and Lysander had researched how to lift Braea’s enchantment of the river, and now he could cross without it feeling unpleasant.

I tucked against him as we wound through the city to Rose and Faolán’s home.

When we reached their door, he gave a low chuckle. “Still a highwaywoman, aren’t you?”

I blinked up at him. “In what way?”

“First you stole my orrery, and somewhere along the way you stole the rest of me. Tonight, it’s my warmth.” He smirked, pulling his light jacket around me. “My Wicked Lady.”

I didn’t fight the pleased hum that came from my throat. Tiptoeing, I pressed into him and entered my plea a few inches from his lips, turning it into an invitation. “Guilty as charged.”

He ducked, ready to accept my surrender, when the door flew open and light and warmth spilled onto us and the street beyond.

“I knew I heard you.” Rose took us in and raised an eyebrow, smoothing her hands down her oversized apron. “But if you need a few more minutes…?” She motioned as if to close the door.

“No,” I chuckled and entered.

Bastian followed, hands on my shoulders as he murmured, “You’ll face your punishment later.”

Heat chased through me. I blamed it on the merry fire in the hearth, but that was absolutely a lie.

There were greetings before we sat and Rose continued bustling over the stove.

“So what’s all this for?” Bastian eyed the chairs squeezed around the kitchen table.

Faolán jolted straight. “We invited you to dinner,” he said a little too quickly. “You know how dinner works, right?”

“Hmm, but also Lysander, Ari, Ella, Perry, and Asher.” I pointed at each seat in turn.

Bastian and I shared a look and he nodded as he rested his arm on the back of my chair. “You have never hosted us all here at once. If it’s that big a gathering, we usually do it at the palace. Might as well make the most of it while we’re still there. Though, of course, if you want to make this a regular thing, we can build you a bigger house—you’ve more than earned it with your service to the realm.” He shrugged, lulling them into a false sense of security before he hit with the real question, “So what’s going on?”

Faolán leapt up and went to help Rose. “You need a holiday. You’re getting paranoid.”

“Right,” Rose scoffed, stepping back and letting her husband pull a tray of pies from the oven. “Friends can invite friends around for dinner. Even all their friends.”

“Hmm.” As one, Bastian and I perfectly imitated Faolán’s signature sound.

But we couldn’t get anything out of them, so the conversation moved on to what was for dinner (chicken and leak pies topped with poppyseeds, served with mashed celeriac, peas, and what appeared to be a vat of gravy), while Bastian toyed with my hair.

“My gods,” I groaned at Rose’s summary of the menu. “You’re killing me with just the description.”

Laughing, I looked around and found Bastian giving me this look that made me stop. It wasn’t sad, but maybe wistful adjacent, with this pinch of his brow that had me suddenly self-conscious. His fingers fell still.

“What?” I touched the top of my head. “Is my hair sticking up?”

He exhaled with a soft shake of his head. “No. Your hair is perfect. This is perfect, in fact. Just like I imagined.”

Before I could ask what he meant, there was a knock at the door and in poured the rest of our friends.

“Thank the gods you’re here.” Rose hustled everyone in. “These two were grilling us and I can’t keep it quiet any longer.” She joined Faolán as he finished mashing the celeriac and wiped his hands on a towel.

Suddenly solemn, he cleared his throat, an arm coming around Rose’s shoulder.

I glanced at Bastian, but he was watching them, a little frown on his face.

“We’re having a baby… well… babies .”

“Babies?” Ella squealed.

The sentiment echoed through the room. I was on my feet, eyes burning as I flung my arms around them both. Rose had spoken about how she wanted a big family one day, like the one she’d come from, but that she was resigned to one, maybe two children if they were lucky, considering how rare fae pregnancies were. “Babies—more than one?” I asked as I let Bastian catch her in a hug.

“Well, Faolán never told me I’d end up with a whole litter of children.”

“Healers have checked her over. There are three heartbeats as well as Rose’s.” The giant rubbed his beard in a poor attempt to hide his proud grin. “And I did tell you, my darling flower. Multiple times.”

“Fine, but I never believed you. Twins, maybe, but triplets? I suppose wolves do have litters.” She patted Bastian’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around Faolán and tried to out-crush him. “We might need to take you up on that offer of a bigger house.”

“Consider it done,” he choked as he lost the battle with Faolán.

“You can let him go now, dear, he’s agreed. You’re all my witnesses.” She winked.

So it was, in the warm cosiness of Rose and Faolán’s house that we ate, drank, and were merry.

Very, very merry.

As we finished dinner and Faolán presented a cake he’d made under Rose’s supervision, I raised my glass. “To the future, and to three children who are going to be very spoilt by their aunts and uncles.”

“ So spoilt.” Ari widened her eyes.

“And happy,” Perry added.

“To the future, wherever it may take us.” Ella wore a tight smile.

Glasses clinked, a few tears were shed.

“To the future… and to cake,” Bastian announced over the coffee sponge with its perfectly piped icing. He met my gaze with a private smile.

Everyone received a slice on a dainty little plate—something I particularly enjoyed watching Faolán with his massive fingers handle so delicately—and the group broke into several smaller conversations.

Ella ushered me to one side, near the door. “I didn’t want to overshadow the happy couple’s announcement, but… I’m leaving.”

“So early? Well, don’t forget your jacket—it’s chilly tonight.”

She gave that same odd smile she’d given during her toast. “I don’t mean going back to my rooms, I mean… I’ve been called back to Albion.”

Almost spitting out my mouthful of cake, I blinked at her. I must’ve misheard. Must’ve.

“I’ve been putting off telling everyone, because that makes it real, but I’m travelling back with Zita’s old performing troupe tomorrow. The queen only let me come here on a temporary basis so I could check you were all right and to aid with diplomacy on Albion’s behalf. I made a deal—if I came here, I’d owe her a favour. And technically I do still work for Cavendish.”

“Then you can’t leave,” I blurted out. “You’re privy to all sorts of national secrets. I can’t let you go.” I put down the plate and took her hands.

“Only half eaten? I should’ve waited until you finished your cake. But I must go. Helping unCavendish was treason. I really do owe them a lot .”

“ I didn’t have to do anything. I worked for him, too.”

“Yes, but you almost died to stop a war.” She shook my hands. “I believe Her Majesty considers you even.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you. And that’s… that’s not me trying to bargain to make you stay, it’s the truth. You saved me. You were the first one to see more than just a tired woman desperate to make money.”

“That’s because you were never ‘just’ anything. I’m simply glad you realise it now.”

We loitered by the door talking a little longer before I waved her off to break the news to the others. I ate the rest of the cake, along with my feelings, in two bites.

“She’s leaving, then?” Bastian’s words ruffled my hair as his hands came to rest on my shoulders.

“And I’ve finished my cake.” The sorrow I swallowed down made me sound petulant, I knew. But I also knew I didn’t need to hide how I felt. I could be as big, as loud, as emotional and take up as much space as I needed to.

“Now that is a tragedy.” He kissed the crown of my head and turned me to face him. “We will visit. I’ll track down the person who made Faolán’s bracelet and see if we can get another one made. Then you can see her all the time.”

My chin wobbled as I fought a losing battle with my tears. He just held me and let me give in, until I was ready to come up for air. “I know it means I’m lucky. The fact I’m this sad, I mean.”

“It does.” He thumbed the tears from my cheeks. “And it means you have a future to worry about. I’m very glad of that, particularly as you seem to enjoy doing things like drinking poison and throwing yourself off balconies.”

I couldn’t help smiling at that. “Well, you do insist on putting yourself in situations where I need to do these things to save your life.”

He huffed, hands planing down my back. “That’s fair. But what else is in our future? We have work to do for Elfhame, yes, but one day, maybe next year, that will be done. What then?”

“Next year? You’re optimistic.” Despite my sarcastic tone, the way he said our future filled me, warm and hopeful, like a light left in the window on a dark night.

“Indulge me, Katherine.”

“We have to finish the logistics for the nominations and elections—the number of council seats still hasn’t been decided. Then we’ll need to work out a way to make the campaigns fair so it’s not only rich people who get elected because they can afford to promote themselves. Then there are the elections themselves and getting the new council in place.” Just thinking about it was enough to give me palpitations. “We’ve got so much to do, I’m not sure I can think beyond that.”

“So that’s what’s on your mind—I wondered why you’ve been tossing and turning in bed.” He stroked my hair and kissed my brow. “We’ll have to wear you out tonight so you can get a proper night’s sleep.”

He said it so casually, it took me a moment to understand the innuendo. He must’ve seen the moment of realisation, because he cracked a wicked smirk.

I widened my eyes and nodded sagely. “That’s a plan I can get behind.”

We stayed there a little while in quiet anticipation, but my unasked question bubbled up. “Earlier you said this was just like you imagined. What did you mean?”

“Oh. That.” His smirk turned crooked as he looked away, and I could’ve sworn there was the faintest hint of pink on his cheeks. “It’s silly really… but it means something to me. Back when you were still unconscious in the Hall of Healing, and I was, rightly, convinced you would hate me when you woke up, I…” He sighed and shook his head. “Just for a moment I had this fantasy of coming here and having a relaxed dinner with our friends. You were laughing, smiling, happy, and I had my arm slung over the back of your chair while I played with your hair. It was brief but so vivid. And good gods, I wanted it.”

The confession made every hard thing left in me melt. The fact he’d wanted something so simple and pure during such a hopeless time—the fact he’d wanted me … him… this. My throat was too thick and aching to speak, so I smoothed his shirt instead, wanting to soothe every old hurt and tell his past self that hope was worth holding on to.

His brow creased as he finally met my gaze. “Sitting there tonight, I realised… that was the moment, exactly as I’d imagined, and yet so much more. After everything in Lunden, I didn’t think it possible, but here we are.”

I smiled, finding my voice and nodded once, sure. “ Here we are .”

Maybe Bastian wasn’t too optimistic. Almost a year on from that dinner, the elections had been held, the council was in place, and we’d helped them get through their initial challenges. It wasn’t perfect. There were arguments. But Elfhame was ruled by its people.

Despite his campaign, Mored wasn’t elected to the council. Such a shame. But Deema and Tor were, and I felt content that the realm would be in safe hands.

I only hoped Bastian was as sure he was in safe hands. Blindfolded, he let me manoeuvre him in front of the door of the modest house on one of Dusk’s streets that looked west towards the setting sun.

We’d chosen it together, just around the corner from Kaliban’s old home, which was now inhabited by a young shapechanger couple he’d helped escape during Cyrus’s rule.

Bastian’s shoulders were loose as we stopped before the front door. Over the past couple of months with the council taking up their responsibilities, we weren’t as busy, and this was the most relaxed I’d ever seen him. He’d even admitted there was something to be said for sharing his burdens with me, our friends, and the council.

And as for me?

I was… content.

Life wasn’t easy, just as Drystan had warned me, but it was pretty close to perfect.

Well, except for the anxiety rolling in my stomach.

Next week, Bastian, Sepher, and Zita would officially abdicate, and we’d all move out from the palace. That in itself wasn’t the reason for my apprehension, though.

We would be moving here , into this house that Bastian hadn’t seen inside since we’d made the purchase… which I had refurbished without any input from him.

I wrung my hands, nibbling on my lip. Shit. What if he hated it?

The plan had been to surprise him, but also, selfishly, it was the first time I’d ever decorated a home. Our childhood house had been entirely under my father’s control. Markyate Cell had been Robin’s with no money to update it and too many unpleasant memories to make it a home. Then I’d lived in Riverton Palace, then in Bastian’s rooms here in Tenebris. And I didn’t count my time in Dawn as living—only a temporary prison.

I’d always been in other people’s spaces, but this was ours from the start.

I’d had help to do the work, of course—joiners and masons and all kinds of specialists. Ari had sewn curtains that would give us privacy, since we were somewhat known in Elfhame. Rose and Faolán had painted the walls alongside me, working around juggling the triplets.

But Bastian knew nothing of what I’d done inside and yet had trusted me with it all.

He cocked his head. “Are you still there?”

“Yes.” I drew the word out and swallowed. Maybe this wasn’t ready yet. Maybe I should paint everything white and start again.

“Are we going to head inside?”

I took a deep breath. The spiced scent of the roses climbing over the front door mingled with the sweet honeysuckle that intertwined with its branches. Together, they calmed me.

He trusted me, and I could trust myself. I unlocked the door and ushered him inside. With the fae lights and the fire called into existence, casting the space in a warm glow, there was only one thing left to do.

On tiptoe, I untied the blindfold.

He blinked and turned, taking in the room.

I clasped my hands tightly, breath held. I’d painted the wall behind the fireplace a rich plum, and dark rosewood shelves lined the alcoves either side. Was it too busy? Too dark? I should’ve gone for white or cream, making the most of the natural light.

“I put your baba’s carvings on the shelves.” I pointed out where the wooden stags and hinds stood in pride of place amongst the books. “My sister’s ship is here next to Kaliban’s orrery—the one from his mantlepiece.” Avice had given us a detailed model of her ship, the Venatrix. It sat above the fireplace, safe from burning thanks to the magical nature of fae fires. Underfoot, we had the rug from Kaliban’s house, cleaned of my blood.

“Then in the kitchen”—I hurried over to the other end of the room—“I just liked the amethyst.” A large, thin slice of it covered the wall above the sink, instead of tiles. “And we have Kaliban’s tea pot.” My eyes burned when I touched its chipped lid.

Obviously, he could see exactly where the items were, but I’d started babbling and couldn’t stop. I needed him to understand that I’d thought of him as well as myself.

“You need to see upstairs, too.” Hopefully he’d like that. I led the way to our bedroom, which occupied most of the upper floor. This was the part that worried me the most. Ariadne had sewn sheer drapes around the bed with tiny black gemstones that glimmered as the curtains wafted. The ceiling was midnight blue with gold stars and a silver moon. It was entirely too much. Too over the top.

“The window,” I blurted. “I don’t know if you noticed, but it’s the same shape as the one in Asher’s cottage. I loved it so much, and it overlooks the setting sun, so…” I gestured uselessly.

The cottage had inspired my decoration downstairs with the dark wood and plum wall. I wanted to create somewhere just as cosy for us. I’d chosen bathroom tiles in a similar smoky mirror effect, and had chosen the largest copper bath I could fit in the room, with space for three for those occasions when he split in two.

I dared to look at him. His eyes were wide, his brows raised.

Oh, gods, it was too much.

“Don’t panic. I didn’t forget your workroom.” I grabbed his hand and took him back downstairs. A small hallway led to the garden, which I hadn’t yet started on, but would be a fun project for the future, while another door led into his workroom. “I left it white,” I explained as I took him inside. “I thought you could decorate it however you like—or at least have somewhere to escape the… bold colours.”

I stood there, wincing as he turned at the centre of the workroom. “Or we can paint it all white or grey or?—”

“Is that what you’re so worried about?” He turned to me. “That I won’t like the colours?”

“Do you?”

“Katherine Ferrers,” he sighed as he crossed the room and took my hands. “This is absolutely, utterly…” He shook his head, eyes a little bright. “It’s fucking perfect. So incredible, I’ve been speechless the whole time. I thought you were going to just give the place a lick of paint, but you’ve… you’ve given it touches of the people we love as well as somehow making it uniquely ours.” He pressed my hands together and kissed my fingertips. “ Thank you .”

I huffed out all my anxiety and sank into his embrace. I’d managed to make us a home, and next week we would move in and fill it with the richness of our lives. It was somewhere we could grow together and maybe even grow old.

We stayed there a long while, wandering through the rooms, taking in the peaceful quiet of our house. The particular way moonlight shafted through the bathroom window, hitting the dark tiles and the copper bath. The crackle of the fire, which was softer than the roar of the palace fireplaces. The hush like the place was waiting for us to bring it to life.

Eventually, we dragged ourselves outside and started back to the palace. When we reached the bridge and he still hadn’t spoken, I tugged on his arm.

“You know, it is all right if you don’t love it or want to change any of it.”

“Why on earth would I want to do that? Didn’t you hear me earlier?”

“Then why are you so quiet?”

“Oh, I see.” He chuckled and slid an arm around my waist as we nodded to the guards. Only once we were past them and walking across the bridge, did he bend to my ear and murmur, “I’m wondering how in the world I’m going to pay you back for making us such a perfect home. I may have to put you on the throne.”

The hot breath of his words in my ear made me shiver with pleasure, but I had to frown at that last part. “I told you, I don’t want to be a queen.”

His laugh was low and dark—seductive in this way that made me completely foolish. “That isn’t what I meant. Don’t you remember what I said back in Albion?” He pushed the hair back from my neck, tickling the sensitive skin behind my ear. “I asked if you wanted me to fuck you over the throne… and you never said no.”

I sucked in a small, sharp breath. I swallowed. I didn’t know how to reply and didn’t want to interrupt his line of thought.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten. You may not be a queen, Katherine, but I think you’d look glorious on a throne… naked… completely undone… crying out my name. My ember sparking bright.”

I made a small sound of confirmation.

“I’m so glad you agree. Maybe we can fit it in before we do away with thrones completely.” And like that, he snapped upright, stepping off the bridge and into the palace grounds like nothing had happened.

Gods, this fae knew how to put me off balance. And I loved him for it.

I cleared my throat and started towards the gardens, though it was a challenge to drag myself away after all the dark promise of his gravelly tone. “I’ll see you in our rooms—I just want to check on the hothouse first.”

“Then let me accompany you.” He changed course and offered me his arm. “You can show me what else you’ve been working on, besides our new home.”

We skirted the palace, and he asked about my work in the hothouse. I’d been given a room in there to use for my rose experiments and would continue to use it once we’d moved. At the moment, I didn’t have much time for more than pottering, but I’d managed to hybridise a few promising new varieties to see if I could start on the path towards the deep purple that had always been my dream.

I explained how I’d chosen two flowers for each experiment, how the rose that would bear the seeds had to be stripped of its petals in order to be pollinated, how then I’d waited for the rose hips to form and mature before harvesting. Then they were dried, the seeds extracted and germinated, the seedlings nurtured.

The hothouse gave me a longer growing season and Elfhame’s magic made everything grow quicker and larger, but it was still a process that required time.

“And after all that, you still don’t know the exact results until they flower. Months of work could all be for nothing. But these buds are looking promising—I’ve got one that’s a dark, raspberry pink. It might help me get to purple in the end.”

I looked up when we entered the formal gardens and I realised he’d gone quiet again.

He wore this small smile, pleased and… something else. “I love you, Kat, but I adore hearing how passionate you are about your work.”

My cheeks flushed hot with the pleasure of being admired and a little of the self-consciousness of being perceived.

He grabbed me. Kissed me. Consuming me in a way that said he wanted to have every part of me. Thorough, like he might be able to drink the passion from my lips.

Just as I was about to suggest we skip the hothouse and go to our suite, the heavens opened, drenching us in cold rain. We pulled apart, laughing and wiping the water from our eyes.

Hand in hand, we ran to the hothouse—our nearest shelter.

Under the light of the glowing plants, we headed to the far end where the smaller rooms with the poisonous plants and my roses were housed. “It probably won’t open until tomorrow or the day after, but…”

He teased a lock of wet hair from my cheek and shrugged. “We shall see. And if it hasn’t, we’ll come back again tomorrow. We have time.”

I was just breathing in the truth of that when we arrived in my workspace and ahead?—

“Oh!” I ran the last paces to the flower—the open flower—calling a fae light to follow so I could see more clearly. A full, round rose, its petals velvety and lush, deep raspberry on the outside and darker at the centre.

I touched the edge of one petal. Soft. Real. I called the light closer, so I could see the middle more clearly.

Darkest berry purple.

I made a little choked sound.

It was purple .

“You did it,” he murmured, squeezing my shoulder.

“Not exactly as I’d pictured, but… it might be more beautiful.”

“I’m learning that’s what life is like.”

I laughed and flung my arms around him with a squeal. “I did it.” For some foolish reason, I cried a few happy tears into his shirt, which mingled with the rain.

He kissed the top of my head and pulled back. “Now you’ve bred the most gorgeous roses I’ve ever seen, what’s next? Last time I asked, you replied with a list of things that needed doing. Almost all those things are done. What comes after?”

“Well, we’ll be together.”

“ Obviously . Though I like having your confirmation.”

I canted my head. “And I foresee you making lots of beautiful things in your new workroom.”

“Beautiful?” His eyebrows raised. “Not useful?”

Here in a fae palace’s hothouse, full of pretty flowers and luminescent plants, with a purple rose that I’d bred, in the arms of the most gorgeous person I’d ever known, it felt silly that I’d once worshipped usefulness. Thank the gods, that was in the past.

“Yes,” I replied with a lilt that acknowledged my past foolishness. “Beautiful. And existing for that sole purpose—giving us a reason to live and fight.” Just as he’d said in this very hothouse.

“Mm.” The sound rumbled between us, pleased. “Good. What else?”

His praise was warm, safe, something I craved, something I’d earned. “And I will grow beautiful, impractical, useless roses that we can look at while we dine.”

“My favourite.” His lopsided smile warmed the tone of his voice, and I felt it as he pressed a kiss to my lips. “You’ve earned a visit to the throne room after this. I’ll send everyone else away.”

My body drew tighter as I pressed against him, biting my lip at the delicious promise.

“We have sculptures and flowers and an appointment with that throne.” His playfulness faded, the look in his eyes growing intense, serious. “What else is in our future, love?”

“I’m…” I blinked and shook my head. “Actually, I’m not sure.” I straightened his rain-soaked shirt, recalling how his clothes had also been drenched the first time we’d met.

The set of his shoulders told me that just as on that night, I had his undivided attention and always would.

“I used to think I had only the terrible options I deserved. I was too broken for anything better. Anything more. But now, when I look ahead, I don’t just see options. I see a life. I don’t know what it will be, but I do know one thing.” Fingers splaying over his chest, trusting that I could lean into him, I lifted my chin and held his glowing gaze. “It will be a life lived truly and a life truly lived.”

The End