Page 12 of Monster’s Consort (Blackthorn Academy for Supernaturals #18)

Violet

“Sleep well?” Delaney asked, casting me a rueful gaze as I made a beeline for the buffet.

Though it’d been years since my mother had a castle to command and staff, you would have never guessed such things from the look of it.

The buffet was stocked every day for breakfast with an array of eggs and shortbreads, scones and muffins, bowls of fresh fruit, and a selection of hot foods. Bacon, sausage, baked beans.

And every day it was just as flowing as the last. When we’d arrived, weeks ago, we had been given our schedules.

Apart from our courses, there were two things that were mandatory—breakfast and dinner.

Times were the same every day, and that morning had been my first tardy.

No doubt it was thanks to Bane and his warmth.

Sleeping with Bane—curling up beside him, in his arms—was the best sleep I’d had since arriving at the castle, all things considered.

“Too well,” I said, casting her a sideways glance. “What did I miss?”

I turned to see Norman at the opposite end of the table, his tentacles twisting about as he chattered endlessly to Desmond and Wanda, both who looked nonplussed.

Bane took his seat across from Wanda, catty-corner from Desmond.

“Her royal majesty declared we are going on a trip today, it seems,” Delaney said.

I nearly dropped the tongs for the bagel. “A trip?” I breathed out in question. “Where?”

“The city,” Wanda drawled with disdain. “Where the... humans reside.”

I blinked. The city of?—

“I believe she said it was just outside of Blackthorn?” Desmond said, despondent.

“What on Earth would we need to do there?”

“She said something about picking up supplies for the Swan Festival.” Delaney popped a piece of pineapple in her mouth.

“The Swan Festival...” All at once, I realized I’d been far too distracted, because I had, indeed, been abridged of this festival.

It was on the twentieth of July. My birthday.

“What is the Swan Festival?” Desmond asked, wrinkling his nose.

I loaded up my plate with some poached eggs, fruit, toast, alongside some butter and jam, and a good spoonful of beans.

“Have you ever heard of the Children of Lir?” Delaney asked.

Desmond shook his head.

Wanda picked at the skin of her orange, her voice smooth and cool as always.

“The King had, like, ten kids—” Norman started.

“Seven,” Wanda drawled.

Norm cast her a look.

“If you’re going to tell the story, tell it correctly, Norman.”

I did not miss the way he sat up straighter, the way he looked at her as if she had just told him she had laid the golden goose egg herself.

I wasn’t sure what had transpired between them, but I would have wagered my castle that Norman Chee and Wanda Fischman had not parted ways amicably.

“So, the King had, like, seven children, and his wife died, like, this horrible death.”

“That’s awful,” Desmond said. “Why would you celebrate someone’s death?”

I grabbed a glass of orange juice from the end of the buffet and found my way over to the table.

“Well, actually, he got remarried,” I said softly. “To a spectacularly beautiful woman, of course.”

Desmond leaned back in his chair, watching me intently.

I felt Bane at my side, but one hand on his thigh seemed to calm his bristling monster.

“But the new queen was not as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside,” Norm continued. “She was?—”

“She killed them,” Wanda said apathetically.

We all turned to see her plop a piece of orange in her mouth nonchalantly.

“What? Why?” Desmond sat up straighter. The motion bristled his long dark hair and some fell in his bright purple eyes.

His eyes were truly like the color of violets. A true indication of his Dark Fae heritage. They were captivating, honestly, but not just because of their color, but because of the curiosity that lay within them.

“Killed them? But why?” He pressed forward, clearly more interested than I would have given him credit for.

“Jealousy,” Delaney said, taking her seat with a plate full of fruit. She plopped a strawberry in her mouth. “The king loved his kids more than her, so she turned them into swans, thinking if she could get rid of them?—”

“He’d love her more.” Desmond said.

Delaney nodded.

“So you celebrate this awful story?”

Bane nodded. “It’s her birthday.”

I blushed at the word, because I’d never given much thought to my birthday. Even after I’d learned of the festival, I hadn’t thought much of it. I’d assumed it was just coincidence, but as Bane said the words, something inside of me shifted.

“When is this?” Desmond asked.

“July twentieth,” Bane said, picking up my toast and spreading some strawberry jam on one piece, then buttering the other. He carefully placed them on top of one another, just the way I liked.

I’d never told him I liked it this way, but I supposed he must have picked up on it over the last few weeks.

And as I sat there, mind spiraling, my consort-to-be was buttering my toast as the Dark Fae Prince looked at me in question.

“Your birthday is the twentieth of this month?” He pressed, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Yes. It just so happens my mother had planned for the festival to be?—”

“How old are you?” Desmond asked, quicker then.

“I will be twenty-one,” I said, then took a bite of my toast.

“My birthday is also the twentieth of July,” he said calmly.

Silence befell us.

“How old are you?” Delaney asked.

Desmond sat back in his chair, his stature poised and regal as he looked pointedly at Delaney.

“I will be twenty-one.”

My blood chilled at his admission.

Desmond and I were born on the same day?

The same year?

A Fae Princess and a Dark Fae Prince?

What were the odds?

“Twinsies. Nice,” Norman said, pulling our attention.

“Anyway, the queen, uh, requested we venture into town to pick up the barrels of whiskey for the festival here, among some other things.”

“And just how, pray tell, are we supposed to travel there?” Desmond asked. “I have not seen any form of transportation since I arrived. I?—”

“Mirrors, of course?” Wanda scoffed. “Don’t you use mirror travel in ‘the nOg?” she asked.

Desmond brushed some hair back. “Mirror travel is so... archaic.”

“And how do you travel, Dezzy?” Delaney asked.

He glared at her. “That is not my name.”

Delaney only grinned, plopping a blueberry in her mouth.

“And to answer your question, I travel by flight, of course. As most Dark Fae do.”

“Oh, do you fly with your big ol’ bat wings?” Delaney poked.

“Only short distances. Long travel requires an air chariot.”

“Well, I’m fairly certain we don’t have air chariots here, so mirrors will have to do,” I said.

“I have my chariot,” he said with a shrug. “Perhaps we could take that.”

Bane stiffened beside me. “I don’t think we will all fit in your little chariot, Desmond. ”

Desmond smirked. “Perhaps you should make that decision after you’ve seen it,” he said, and with that, he arose from his seat and walked out of the room.

“We have to follow him, don’t we?” Delaney asked with a sigh.

Bane grunted.

“But I just got my breakfast...”

Wanda let out an exasperated sound, her chair screeching across the floor as she rose.

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you decided to keep you and your little spark up until the wee hours of the morning,” she snipped, and my cheeks heated.

So her footsteps were the ones we heard.

Oh my stars!

Norman sighed as he headed for the buffet, his tentacles grasping onto muffins and scones.

I hurried to finish my food as Bane stood, and Norman offered him a muffin from one of his tentacles.

“No, thank you,” Bane drawled.

Norman frowned. “I thought you liked blueberry?” he said. “You always grab the last one at the cafeteria...”

“I do,” Bane said in exasperation. “But I don’t trust those slippery little suckers,” he nipped.

Norman frowned. “Oh. Well, they are clean, if that’s what you’re worried about. I showered this morning.”

Thoughts about what that must have looked like made my cheeks heat again. Our showers here were larger than those at the academy, but then again, I didn’t know how accommodating they would be for a man with eight extra appendages.

“Yes, well, if it is all the same to you, I will pass,” Bane said, tugging my hip.

I followed him out, pulling away for only a moment. “Go, I’ll be behind you in a moment,” I said.

Norman casually sauntered forth, but I stopped him, just as Bane walked out the entrance.

I reached for Norman’s tentacle, muffin and all. His tentacle unfurled and I plucked it from his suckers with a pop.

“Aren’t you worried I’ll try to feed off of you like your boyfriend?” he asked with a tired tone.

“No,” I said. “I don’t think my lust is what you crave.”

His dark eyes glistened for a moment as his tentacle recoiled, while another trailed up my arm. The suckers tickled my skin but they did not suck or bite. They tickled, mostly.

“Lust is all I’ve ever known to sate me,” he said, and then he let me go.

He sauntered toward the exit. “But then I tasted something so much sweeter.”

I flanked his side, taking a bite of my muffin.

Bane walked ahead of us, Wanda by his side. Norman’s words settled on me.

“And what was that?” I asked carefully, watching as the two, tall, attractive exes walked before me.

The canyon between them was evident and they did not seem to be speaking, which was both a relief and somehow strangely sad.

“I’m not sure, but I know nothing will ever fill me again now that I’ve had it.”

I offered him a soft smile. “Perhaps a ride in Desmond’s sky chariot will take your mind off of it.”

Norman’s guilty expression shifted to the one I knew best. Happy. Carefree.

“Of course. And a pint in town won’t hurt, either,” he said as one of his tentacles knocked into me.

When we arrived in the hangar, I couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of Desmond’s chariot. I had expected something archaic, but it looked less an old Roman chariot and more like a sleek jet, but somehow classier.