Page 70 of Fey Empire

Loki stays by my heels. Alert, but calm. Interested enough about where we are going, to not stop and sniff at everything.

Heavens, look at me. Married to a prince. Dressed in exotic silk robes. Striding through Buckingham Palace with a dire wolf at my heels.

My life has become a fairy tale. Let’s hope it is one with a happy ending. Even though all the original fairy tales were gruesome, horrific, and tragic before Walt Disney got his hands on them.

A shiver dances over me, but then I’m distracted from my morose thoughts by the sight of double doors ornamented with gold filigree.

We have arrived.

I take a deep breath and knock sharply. Almost immediately, the door is yanked open, and the same grumpy-looking pink-haired servant as before scowls up at me.

“Would the Prince Consort mind if I brought my puppy?”

The servant doesn’t have time to reply, because the door is flung even wider and Jamie appears.

“Puppy?” he exclaims joyfully.

Loki wags her tail so hard her entire fluffy body bends. She runs up to him and sits on his feet while he strokes her. She looks at me smugly, and her pink tongue lolls out.

I’d feel betrayed, but this is exactly what I wanted. Jamie is so enthralled with her, he hasn’t even looked at me.

Eventually we make inside and over to the table. Blake smiles at me. He is not wearing very many clothes again, so I guess this is how Prince Mabon prefers him to be. Blake doesn’t seem to mind, and for a moment, I’m stabbed with a pang of envy. How nice it must be to be happy and settled. With someone who isn’t a traitor.

Loki scurries under the table, behind the long white tablecloth. Blake turns his attention to her. He grins and looks down at whatever she is doing down there.

Quietly, I take my seat. This is working perfectly. Far better than I had hoped for.

“Jamie, why the fuck are you dragging me into your meddling interventions again? The kid said he was fine.”

Ollie walks into the room. His emerald green eyes go straight to me, but he doesn’t look the least bit embarrassed.

“You are fine, aren’t you?” he demands.

“Yes,” I agree hastily.

“See? So since that’s sorted, can I go now?” he says to Jamie.

The Crown Consort points to the selection of tiny cakes in the middle of the table. “I have lemon drizzle.”

Ollie scowls. “Is moody twink-shadow-lord going to gatecrash again?”

“I don’t think so.”

Ollie sighs as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders. Then he takes a seat and helps himself to a slice of lemon drizzle cake.

Jamie turns to Blake. “Did Mabon manage to find out if Llywelyn is okay?”

Blake shoots me a look, and it feels like my insides wither. But he quickly looks away.

“Yes! Mabon tracked him down. Ethan is with him, and they are safe and happy.”

He doesn’t look at me, thank heavens. Nobody else is going to know that I was in any way involved with checking in on the exiled prince.

Goodness, things have been dramatic since I arrived at court. Assassination attempts that placed me in a dungeon. Murder and exile. Secret visits to the fey realm. Plots to help me run away on the next full moon. And now treason.

“Oh that is wonderful!” beams Jamie.

I blink, and then realise he is talking about Llywelyn being happy, and not my inner thoughts.