Page 32 of Fey Empire (Fey Lords #5)

Chapter thirty-one

“ A re you sure you wish to attend?” Selwyn’s voice is full of concern.

I flash him a smile as I fiddle with the laces of my sleeve. “Yes, a garden party is probably the only type of social function I would ever enjoy.”

Selwyn frowns. He is going to need more convincing.

“We can take Loki, yes?” I say.

He nods.

“See? It is all good!” I beam. “And I’ve never been to a nighttime garden party. It sounds exciting.”

I finish with my laces and look at him. It is time to go, but he isn’t moving. He is standing in the doorway of my dressing room, blocking the exit.

“I promised to keep your mother away from you,” he says softly. “But the ambassador will be in attendance.”

My smile falters.

“I will not allow her to talk to you,” Selwyn adds hastily.

I take a deep breath. “Then everything is fine. I can cope with seeing my mother across a crowd.”

Selwyn’s eyes swirl with doubt. He still doesn’t move.

“It is an important celebration,” I try. “Lady Freyanogi has given birth to a healthy child and fey births are extremely rare. It would be an insult not to go. ”

I am not completely useless. I understand some things, and I am learning the intricacies of the fey court.

Selwyn’s brow furrows. He doesn’t move an inch.

I sigh in surrender. “Dyfri has to attend, and I would feel awful if I left him to face all the gossip and rumours alone. If I go, half the crowd will whisper behind my back instead of his.”

Silence. Selwyn’s expression is unreadable. Surely my confession will move him? I stare at him and watch as the look in his eyes slowly softens.

“You are very brave,” says Selwyn.

“You know I’m not,” I snort.

Selwyn chuckles, and his eyes gleam. He steps up to me and plants a tender kiss on the top of my head. One that makes my heart flutter.

Goodness. Is his plan to make my knees so weak I can’t go? Because that might actually be working.

He grins and offers me his arm.

Oh thank heavens! He has relented, and I am allowed to attend the garden party. I am so relieved.

We stroll arm in arm through Buckingham Palace and out into the gardens.

Loki trotting behind us all the way. Selwyn leads the way to a large hollow, as big as a ballroom, and encircled by large oak trees.

The ground dips down behind the trees, forming a circle.

At the foot of the oak trees, creating a perfect perimeter around the hollow, is a ring of bright red toadstools.

It is a little disconcerting. But I have my fey husband on my arm, so I am sure I am safe.

As we step into the hollow, everything feels different. The nighttime air smells sweeter. All the background sounds of London disappear. The light is brighter, even though the only lights I can see are fireflies dancing around the toadstools.

I look up and gasp. There are so many stars. Too many. The Milky Way is clear. A vibrant slash across the sky. Luminous in pale blue.

Selwyn’s grip on my arm tightens.

“It is so beautiful!” I say with a smile to reassure him.

His grip relaxes. He returns my smile, and I see the ancient starlight reflected in his eyes.

I’m barely aware of all the people here. There is a low beat of drums, and in the very centre of the hollow, fey are dancing in circles. Creating a swirling array of brightly coloured silks.

Plenty of other fey are milling around on the edges. Talking in small groups and drinking from goblets.

This isn’t so bad. Maybe I truly will settle into the fey court. Perhaps one day it will feel like home.

Loki wanders off a little way to investigate the fireflies. I look up at Selwyn. He hasn’t let go of my arm. Surely he has people he needs to talk to?

But he simply grins at me and makes no move to leave.

My heart does a little happy dance, and I turn my attention back to watching the crowd. People are starting to stare at me. My arrival has been noticed.

I watch as more and more heads turn my way and people lean in close to one another to whisper. Strangely, it is not bothering me in the slightest. Selwyn is by my side. My arm is in his, and everything is fine. It is only gossip, it can’t hurt me.

The dancers swirl and a gap briefly forms. I glimpse my mother on the other side of the hollow. Glaring right at me .

I swallow and tighten my grip on Selwyn’s arm. She must be furious at this scandal I have caused. It has probably ruined many of her plans. She won’t want to be the mother of a scandalous prince consort.

Selwyn puts his free hand over mine. Reassuring me with a simple touch. My mother can fume all she likes. She is not allowed to even talk to me, let alone punish me.

Suddenly, everyone is looking towards my right.

My gaze follows the crowd’s, just in time to see Dyfri glide into the hollow.

His head is held high, and he looks magnificent.

His robes are all jet black with flashes of ruby red.

His hair is loose, but it gleams. Raven dark.

As dark as his elegant horns that curl backwards before ending in wickedly sharp looking points.

He ignores all the stares, as if everyone here is far beneath him, and strides over to where the goblets of mead are being served.

He is so very princely. I can’t believe that all of court thinks I ordered him to do anything.

“The unseelie deserves all bad things.”

The sibilant hiss reaches me from a nearby cluster of people. Selwyn stiffens. For a moment I think he is going to stride over to the group, but he doesn’t. He breathes deeply and exhales, and the tension leaves his body.

Dyfri glances our way but doesn't acknowledge us. Which makes sense. If we were seen talking, the gossips would love it. They’d make something out of nothing.

The best thing to do is to let the fire burn out. Adding fuel to it would be disastrous.

The murmurs die down. The stares reduce. I’m just standing here with my husband. Dyfri is standing over there with a goblet of mead. It is exceedingly boring. No wonder people are moving on to talking about other things.

Thank the goddess. There is hope that this night won’t be so awful. Because with the stars and the fireflies and the dancing, it is beautiful. It would be lovely to be able to have a nice time.

A flurry of gasps snatches my attention. The crowd is parting. Making way for Mother, who is making a beeline straight for Dyfri.

The crowd falls silent. The drums stop. The dancers fall still.

Everyone is watching.

Mother strides right up to Dyfri. He watches her with an uneasy expression.

“You seduced my son,” she says in a voice that carries clearly. “You seduced him and made it look like he ordered you. So you could cause trouble. You have tarnished his reputation.”

Her voice is calm. Icy cold. Her most dangerous voice of all.

“Prince Dyfri Y Mhorriganogi. I, Dowager Duchess Eastminister, challenge you to a duel.”

The crowd gasps as one. A great wall of sound. It hits me with the force of a thunderclap.

Dyfri pales. All colour drains from his face. His dark eyes grow enormous. He stumbles backwards a step.

I blink, and then his horns are gone. Just vanished as if they were never there. My mind reels, but there is no time to process, because Dyfri has turned on his heels and has fled the hollow.

And Selwyn is running after him .

I pick up the skirts of my robes and hurry after them, with Loki bounding by my side.

The princes are far quicker than I am, and I lose them in the hallways of the palace.

Eventually I reach Dyfri’s rooms. Selwyn is standing in the hallway. The double doors to Dyfri’s quarters are firmly shut, and a shadow figure is standing in front of them, arms crossed over his chest. Shaking his head.

As I try to catch my breath, others arrive. Mabon and Blake. Jamie and Crown Prince Rhydian. Ollie and Prince Tristan.

Everybody looks extremely worried.

“I’ll wait here until he is ready to see someone,” says Jamie. “The rest of you go, so he isn’t crowded.”

Six pairs of eyes stare at me. Full of anger and accusation. All utterly deserved.

I force down a swallow, but Selwyn takes my arm and leads me away before I can attempt to say anything. What even is there to say? There is nothing that can make this any better. Nothing at all.

A door shuts behind me. Dazedly, I look around. Selwyn and I are back in our rooms.

Selwyn releases my arm. He strides over to the drinks cabinet and pours himself a drink.

Loki sits right by my side, leaning on my leg. She whines softly, and I absentmindedly pat her head.

Selwyn downs his drink in one. “I can’t lose another brother. I can’t see Dyfri suffer again.”

I bite my bottom lip. “Dyfri is very powerful. It is going to be fine. ”

I have felt his magic. I have felt my mother's. I am pretty certain he is far more powerful. But everyone is acting as if he has already lost.

“It is going to be very traumatic for him,” Selwyn says tonelessly without looking at me. “The fear will make him lose.”

That doesn’t sound right. “Dyfri is not scared of anything!” I declare with false cheer.

Selwyn whirls to face me. His eyes blaze. “Do you know how rhocyn are made?”

Loki whimpers. I stroke her ears. “No,” I say meekly.

Selwyn’s shoulders slump. The light goes out of his eyes. “I forgot you wouldn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I whisper.

“A rhocyn is made when they lose a duel. The victor can choose death, or banishment. Or they can cut the defeated's hair and make them a resyn.” Selwyn pauses. “Or the victor can unbind their foe’s hair, take them in the circle, and make them a rhocyn.”

Take them? As in…? No, surely not.

Is Selwyn saying that Dyfri was challenged before and lost, and was… At the actual duel. In front of everyone there?

My hand flies up to cover my mouth.

“It was just after his name day. He had just come of age. He never stood a chance, but he fought so bravely. I will never forget it.”

A wretched, tortured sob tears out of my throat. Selwyn was there? He saw?

“I’m so sorry!” I wail. I’m not even sure I managed words. I think it was more of a noise than a sentence .

Selwyn hurries over to me. His hands go to my shoulders.

“Laurie, you are not to blame.”

“My… My Mother!” I sob as my shoulders shake.

“Your mother is responsible for her actions, not you.”

I can no longer talk at all now. I am crying far too much. It is lovely of Selwyn to say such kind things but no one else is going to think that. They are all going to know where to lay the blame.

The entire reason my mother has an excuse to challenge Dyfri, is because of my foolish, thoughtless, impulsive action.

“Laurie, sweetheart. It is not your fault. Your mother is playing the game. She wants to sabotage Dyfri’s marriage to the Prime Minister’s son because she doesn't want to share power with other humans.”

Selwyn stops abruptly and inhales sharply. “I mean, I am sure she does care for you and your reputation too.”

I sob even harder, and now I want to laugh hysterically too. I know my mother doesn’t give a shit about me. Selwyn is being so sweet. But he is a terrible liar. I can see why fey rarely try to tell falsehoods.

He steps even closer to me. His head bends down, and he tenderly kisses a tear away. Then another. And another. Soft lips brushing over my cheeks.

I let out another terrible noise and fling myself at him, wrapping my arms around his back. He returns my clumsy embrace and holds me tight.

If he holds me for long enough, maybe a miracle will happen, and everything will be all right.