Page 7

CHAPTER SIX

NEAH

W alking through the palace was strange.

The flurry of activity in the corridors was the same as it always had been and already she could hear the gossip stirring about her presence.

Though, interestingly enough, many of the gossipers had no clue who Neah was and instead ruminated on her mysterious identity—she’d been gone for too long.

While it was true that she’d changed a lot since she last spent time in the palace, now more woman than girl, it felt odd to have been so thoroughly erased from the minds of the court.

At least it made it easier to waltz through the halls without interruption.

Neah was debating whether to attempt to find Zennon or her father first when she spotted the familiar garb of the king’s guard. The silver-grey of their shirt, emblazoned with a crown and a moon, was unmistakable and Neah pivoted to approach.

The windows that ran intermittently on one side of the palace’s walls made her nervous, the light catching on the deep blonde strands of her hair and highlighting it in gold and red, a constant reminder of how open the space was as she moved.

From a security standpoint, the windows were trouble.

Easy to scale, or blast open, though the stained glass effect was rather pretty.

“Excuse me.” Neah pitched her voice low and the guard looked up at her in surprise before interest flared in his long-lashed brown eyes. “I’m?—”

“Oh, I know exactly who you are, Lady,” he said, surprising her even as relief made her throat tighten momentarily. She hadn’t been completely forgotten, then. “Please accept my apologies that I couldn’t be there myself to escort you this morning.”

She raised her brows but accepted his apology with a smile. “Not at all. I was perfectly safe.”

“I’ll say.” The guard grinned, his teeth even and white and she found herself smiling hesitantly back. “I imagine you’re looking for the king?”

Perhaps the guard was right, it would be better for her to approach the king directly with information this potentially time-sensitive. “I—yes, actually.”

“Come. It would be my honour to take you to His Majesty.”

It was a pleasant but not unwelcome surprise to be granted such a courtesy and she inclined her head in thanks.

Playing the part of Lady came naturally to her and, in truth, she enjoyed the freedom it gave her.

Not for the privilege and monetary benefits, though they were helpful, but the freedom to be underestimated was intoxicating.

The court looked at her and saw a woman, a delicate noble with the power and prestige of a shifter beneath her skin.

They didn’t see the strength in her lean frame, the cunning in her eyes—nor did they know her shame, that she was almost as much a shifter as the humans among them, given that she’d never shifted.

But to be unremarkable was the gift of a talented spy, one she had subverted with her reputation. After all, who expects the life of the party to be reporting its every facet?

Her chivalrous escort garnered further whispers but she paid them no mind, most of her attention was focused on keeping the train of her borrowed dress out from underfoot.

It was long and green and not at all something she would typically have worn.

She loved dresses, but more often than not they were a hindrance.

Lady Neah wouldn’t care about that though. Lady Neah didn’t need to know how to fight or hide daggers on the inside of her thigh. Lady Neah had time for dresses and pinning her hair just-so.

Neah the spy? Well, she was becoming frustrated with the mass of forest material even as she admired the way the gold thread design on the skirt glimmered in the sunlight.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment, their pace slow due to the volume of her skirts. “I didn’t ask your name.”

“Dean Grandy.” He gave a short bow that revealed the top of his close-cropped dark hair. “And it’s no bother, Lady. I understand wanting to make a good first impression.”

First impression? She smoothed her brow and nodded, even as she turned over his words in her mind while they walked.

They rounded a corner and she was relieved when the windows were replaced with art and tapestries.

The palace wound inward in a spiral formation meant to confuse intruders, though Neah knew it like the back of her hand.

She’d expected Dean to lead her toward the King’s quarters, or perhaps a banquet hall as it would soon be nearing supper.

Instead, they continued on to the center of the spiral and the formal viewing chamber.

Typically it was used for ceremonies, trials, or other matters of importance.

Why would the king be there? And why would Dean think she would be welcome to interrupt what was likely a closed and exclusive meeting?

It had grown darker when they walked, the natural light mostly disappearing as they moved into the depths of the castle, but toward the viewing chamber they approached the far side of the palace walls once more.

She’d only been inside one other time before and knew that a large stained glass window took up the majority of the back wall, the effect both grand and foreboding all at once much like the carved entrance doors that were double her height.

“Perhaps we should wait outside until the king is done?”

Dean frowned, thick brows drawing together tightly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Lady.”

The use of the honorific as he gently berated her made Neah’s lips twitch but the humour faded quickly when the solid oak doors swung open and four unfamiliar sets of eyes swung her way.

“Your Majesty,” Dean boomed from beside her, making her jump, “may I present to you, your mate, Lady Zennon?”

Neah froze. Then the terrible urge to laugh swept over her, barely restrained, as she met the final set of eyes in the room. Familiar brown irises that swam with a mixture of worry and amusement.

“What is the meaning of this?” The words came not from the king, but the tall shifter at his side—Gabriel, if she remembered correctly. “The king’s mate is here , you idiot.”

Dean spluttered, looking between Neah and Zennon with mounting confusion. “I?—”

“My apologies, Your Majesty,” Neah said smoothly, stepping further into the room and walking to Zennon’s side before she curtsied deeply. “It seems there was some confusion, but I have ended up where I intended to be.”

Eyes a gold so deep they burned watched her with a cat-like intensity from the dais where he sat, and the king’s mouth curled as he took her in. “Is that so?”

Zennon cleared her throat, causing all eyes to shift to her. “Yes, quite.”

Dean shuffled awkwardly in place before bowing his head to the king and making a swift retreat, closing the doors behind him.

The room was large and the sound of his exit echoed, the smell of oak overpowering almost everything else in the room as dust motes drifted lazily in the beams of sunlight that cascaded in through the large window behind the king.

“I know you,” he said suddenly, standing from his seat and descending the small set of steps from the raised platform to stop inches away from her. “Who are you?”

“Most certainly not your mate,” she said, attempting humour and letting it fade when the intensity of the king’s stare only increased. “I am Lady Neah Fallon. Lady Zennon sent word to me of what transpired at the Midmyr estate and I came as quickly as I could.”

“Fallon?” Gabriel breathed and Neah slid him a bored look. “But that would make you?—”

“Yes,” she said, cutting him off but keeping her gaze on the king. “My apologies for barging in, Your Majesty.”

His eyes stayed on hers even as he addressed Zennon. “Is this true?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The king nodded once, the motion powerful, final. “I’m glad to know you have allies, Lady Zennon.”

Zen smiled, but Neah barely saw it. Instead, she was caught on the way the king inhaled sharply, like a predator catching the scent of prey. “Me too. Though, I’m afraid it’s still more than a little unclear to me why I’m here?”

The king at last looked away from Neah and she nearly slumped with relief, only to stiffen at his next words.

“Misguided as my guard appeared, he was not entirely incorrect. It is time for me to take a wife, to secure the future of this kingdom, and who better than my mate?”

“How could you possibly know—” Neah fell silent when Zennon nudged her in the side and the king turned his hypnotic gaze back to her.

“A spell was performed that gave me the location of my mate. Midmyr Forest. Once my men drew closer, they were able to track the magic more precisely to your estate, Lady Zennon.”

The bottom of Neah’s stomach dropped, the sensation leaving her feeling vaguely nauseous as she absorbed the king’s words. His mate was in the forest. Then at Zennon’s estate.

“How do you know your mate wasn’t one of the dead guards? Or the assassins?” This time, Zennon didn’t chastise Neah for the questions.

The only other woman in the room stepped forward, her silver eyes gleaming as she assessed Neah. “The magical trail the guards followed would have immediately dissipated had the king’s mate perished. Instead, it remained intact and led them to your friend’s door.”

Sensing Zennon might say something that Neah wasn’t quite ready to make known, she slipped her arm through her friend’s and squeezed tightly.

For now, it was better that the king not know that Zennon hadn’t been the only person in the house that night.

At least until Neah could speak to her father and determine the best course of action.

Zennon’s breath wheezed out of her and Neah understood the feeling. “I don’t?—”

“You don’t need to say anything right now,” the king said, and the words were surprisingly soft as he reached out and took Zennon’s free hand into his own. “I’m just grateful you’re here, and alive, and that we have the opportunity to know one another.”

The beams of sunlight illuminated the king’s silhouette and wrapped him and Zennon in a glittering golden haze and Neah couldn’t deny that they looked good together.

Zennon was soft and dark, the king as unyielding as stone but with a softened edge made of spun bronze.

A perfect balance between dark and light, soft and hard.

The silver-eyed woman’s gaze hadn’t left Neah as she observed the king and her friend and she raised a brow in the woman’s direction while the king continued to murmur to Zennon. What did the woman think she knew?

“I’ll leave you to settle in, but perhaps we could have breakfast together tomorrow?”

For a second, the king looked young, vulnerable, his golden eyes wide and his long, pale fingers moved a shade too fast when he tucked a strand of chestnut hair behind his ear.

Neah nudged Zennon and she sucked in a shaking breath. “That—sounds lovely.”

“Until tomorrow, then.” The king bowed and they curtsied in turn, remaining in place as the king swept out of the room with Gabriel, Skye, and the silver-eyed woman in tow.

Only then did Zennon turn to Neah, dark eyes narrowed into slits. “You have a lot of explaining to do, friend . And is that my dress?”