Page 67 of Fey Divinity

The thought makes me uncomfortable. What if I’m just another part of his cover? Another role he’s playing to maintain his position?

I push the thought away almost as soon as it forms. That’s not fair. Whatever else might be true, this thing happening between us is real. The way he looks at me when he thinks no one’s watching is real.

Isn’t it?

“Jack?” Jamie’s voice pulls me back to the conversation. “Sorry, I asked if you’re finding fey culture interesting, but you looked a bit distant there.”

“Just thinking,” I say. “It’s... certainly different from anything I’m used to.”

“I imagine so. All the magic and politics and...” Jamie catches himself again, that same uncertain look crossing his face. “Well, anyway, I’m sure Dyfri’s taking good care of you.”

“He is,” I say, glancing at my husband. “Very good care.”

Something flickers in Dyfri’s expression, too quick to interpret.

When the tea finally ends and we’re preparing to leave, Rhydian speaks directly to me for the first time all afternoon.

“Treat him well,” he says quietly, his voice carrying an undertone I can’t quite identify. “He deserves kindness.”

The words sound almost like a threat.

“I intend to,” I reply, meeting his gaze as steadily and as sternly as I can. I’m already treating Dyfri far better than this bastard ever did.

Those amber eyes study me for a long moment. Then he nods, apparently satisfied.

“Good,” he says simply.

As we step back through the portal into our flat, I find myself shaking slightly. Whether from nerves or relief, I can’t tell.

“Well,” Dyfri says casually, as if we’ve just returned from a pleasant afternoon stroll rather than the most intense tea party of my life. “That went well.”

“Did it?” I stare at him. “Your brother looked like he wanted to dissect me.”

“Rhydian looks like that at everyone. It’s just his face.” Dyfri moves to pour himself a drink, perfectly calm. “Besides, if he wanted you dead, you’d already be dead.”

“That’s... not actually reassuring.”

“Wasn’t meant to be.” Dyfri’s smile is sharp. “Welcome to fey politics, darling. Everything is a test.”

Watching him now, so perfectly in control, I can’t help but wonder what else might be a test. What else might be just another move in a game I don’t fully understand.

The thought unsettles me more than Rhydian’s intimidating stare ever could.

Chapter twenty-three

Dyfri

Iwatch Jack pace around our living room like a caged animal, presumably still processing our afternoon at court. He’s been restless ever since we returned, running his hands through his hair and muttering under his breath.

He has no idea how well he actually performed.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the carpet,” I observe mildly, settling into the armchair with a glass of wine.

As I tuck my legs up onto the seat and lean comfortably to the side, the words Tristan’s rude little pet said to me months ago ring in my ears.

You sit like a bottom.

I frown and fight the urge to put my legs down. What utter nonsense. I shake my head and turn my attention back to Jack.