Page 35 of The Beginning (Covert Moon, #1)

He nodded approvingly. "That was the correct thing to do.

Protocol exists for good reasons." He tapped his chin with one finger, a habit I remembered from court.

"I wonder where they've been hiding. The Goblin Realm isn't as hospitable as one might think, especially for fae refugees.

" Then his strange eyes focused on me with sharp intensity.

"Since you're contacting me again, I presume it was at their request. What is it they wish? "

"They would like an audience with you, Your Majesty," I said, keeping my voice neutral. "Lady Annaliese was quite... emphatic about it being her right as a member of the court."

"They do, do they?" I was surprised to see that the king looked genuinely amused, as though someone had just told him a particularly good joke. His eyes twinkled with mirth. "After months of hiding from justice, they want to waltz back in and demand an audience?"

Since this whole mess was the thing that had sent me to the outskirts of my realm, I didn't see the humor in it initially.

"After Gavin’s nose has been healed by his fair lady?" the king asked, and then he burst out laughing, leaning back in his chair and not bothering to hide his amusement. The sound was rich and genuine, filling my office through the mirror's magic.

How did he know about that? I felt heat rise in my cheeks, but allowed myself a small smile, relieved that I wasn't going to hear any scolding about what could only be termed a natural reaction. "Your Majesty, it appears that my self-restraint failed me today. I'm afraid I acted unprofessionally."

"Well, it happens to the best of us, Captain Eamonn," he said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

"I imagine it felt rather good. I might've done the same in your position.

" His expression grew more serious, though traces of amusement remained.

"As for Gavin and Lady Annaliese, you may tell them that they may return to wherever it was they've been hiding.

Tell them that their request for an audience is denied.

This border is closed to them. As well, please inform them that should they contact their families, they'll find a similar reception. "

His firm refusal was surprising in conjunction with the laughter I'd heard only moments ago. But I supposed that was the difference between finding something amusing and rewarding it.

I felt my spine straighten as I took it all in. "Of course, your Majesty. I'll relay that to them."

* * *

"I 'm sorry my lady, Gavin, but the king refuses your request. He will not see you.

" I'd delivered the king's denial with an entirely straight face, though inside I'd been practically glowing with satisfaction.

"He also wished me to convey that you'll be denied in a similar fashion should you contact your families. "

It was hard not to laugh at their expressions, and I'd desperately wanted to, but I'd held it in check. I am a professional, after all, even when dealing with the architects of my downfall.

Gavin's face had fallen like a stone, and he'd looked disappointed but not shocked. Knowing Gavin as I did—or as I had, before he'd decided to throw both our lives away—he wasn't surprised at the king's refusal. He'd probably known it was a long shot, but Lady Annaliese had insisted they try.

Lady Annaliese was a completely different story. Her reaction had been a study in barely contained rage. First, her mouth had fallen open in a perfect circle of shock, as though she couldn't quite process what she'd heard.

We were still in the sitting room, and they sat next to one another on the sofa like a pair of bedraggled birds.

It was the first time I'd ever had cause to use the chamber for visitors, but I figured it was better than putting them in the guards' bunk room or dragging them through my office.

When it came down to it, I found I didn't want them in my office.

That space was mine, my sanctuary, and their presence would've contaminated it somehow.

I'd watched her face go through the various contortions of anger, then disbelief, then calculation. Her expressions shifted like clouds across the sky. At that point, her cheeks had gone white as parchment. Her mouth tightened into a thin line, looking remarkably like a prune that had been left too long in the sun. Her hair was still dark and lovely, shot with shades of red that caught the light beautifully, but her face—her face revealed an ugliness I’d never seen before.

I'd glanced quickly at Gavin to see how he was taking his lady's transformation.

Whether he was wise in the ways of his lady's moods, or because he was too busy worrying about his nose, or something else entirely, he didn't seem to notice her reactions.

Adept at ignoring inconvenient things, was Gavin.

A skill he'd obviously needed to develop, and one that probably served him well in his current circumstances.

I'd stifled the uncharitable satisfaction that came with that thought.

She'd drawn herself up then, which was quite a feat given that she was sitting down.

Every line of her body had radiated offended dignity.

She'd addressed me with the kind of tone usually reserved for particularly slow servants.

"I demand an audience with the king. It's my right as a member of the court! "

I'd not sat down during this entire exchange and was now glad that I'd made that decision.

It gave me a psychological advantage, looking down at them while they sat like supplicants.

I'd put my hand at my waist and given her a half bow, just formal enough to be proper but shallow enough to convey my actual feelings.

"I'm aware that you were once a member of court, my lady.

As is the king, I assure you. There is nothing I can do.

He urges you to return to wherever you have been residing since you left the Fae Castle.

He instructed me to convey his decree that the borders to his Realm are closed to you both. " I kept my expression blank.

Did it make me a lesser man to take such satisfaction in denying her the thing she wanted most?

In denying both of them the one thing they'd come here hoping to achieve?

It seemed rather fitting that I was the one to deliver the bad news to them.

There was a symmetry to it that appealed to my sense of justice.

The sound that left the Lady Annaliese’s mouth at that moment sounded very much like some crazed bird whose nest had been disturbed.

The sound had been high and grating, echoing off the stone walls.

Her face had turned an interesting shade of purple, and for a moment I'd worried she might swoon from rage.

I'd bowed again, murmuring my apologies for being the bearer of unwelcome news, and left the room without another word.

I hadn't gone back down to see them after that.

Instead, I'd left instructions with Tobias for seeing them out—politely but firmly—back through the Goblin Gate from whence they came.

Then I'd holed up in my office, choosing to go over the details of my impending visit to the Human Realm.

The paperwork had, for once, been a welcome distraction from both the drama downstairs and the letter that still felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket. Reports to review, supply lists to approve, duty rosters to adjust—all the mundane tasks that kept a command running smoothly.

Eventually, Tobias had returned, and he'd had a hard time hiding his smile as he'd repeated all the threats Lady Annaliese had rained down upon my absent head.

According to him, I was going to be reported to the king for my treatment of nobility, stripped of my rank, thrown into the dungeons, and generally made to suffer for my impertinence.

"Well, she was disappointed," I'd said, which was probably the understatement of the century.

"While I understand that, I'm not entirely sure what more she could do to me that hasn't already been done.

" It was the closest I'd ever come to admitting the full reasons that had brought me here.

I'd been right in my supposition that my circumstances were well known among the men.

Tobias had grinned at my words, clearly aware of the irony in Lady Annaliese threatening someone who'd already lost everything because of her actions.

"I think we should put off our journey to the Human Realm until tomorrow," I'd said, changing the subject before it could become too personal. "Wouldn't you agree?"

His eyes had widened at being asked for an opinion rather than simply given orders. It was a small thing, but I was learning that small gestures of respect went a long way with these men. "Yes, sir. Probably best to let things settle down first. Make sure that the lady and her guard do not return."

"Very well, go get some sleep. We'll depart tomorrow, right after the morning meal."

Once Tobias left, I called King Jharak back and updated him on the events of this evening.

"Thank you, Captain. I appreciate your immediate attention to this matter.” His mirth was undeniable and drew yet another smile to my lips.

“Of course, Your Majesty. It was my pleasure.”

“Your former commander was right about you." The king paused, studying my face through the mirror. "You do keep your word, and you handle difficult situations with appropriate judgment. I will remember this."

The mirror went dark for a moment before returning to its silvery state, and the king was gone.

I stood there for a moment, trying to figure out what he'd just said. I mean, I'd heard the words clearly, but there was more to them, I was sure. Some deeper meaning I might have been missing that nonetheless brought me a renewed sense of hope. Along with the fact he didn’t mind that I’d punched Gavin just as he deserved.

* * *

F inally I was able to return to my quarters and wearily climb into bed. The narrow cot wasn't luxurious, but it was comfortable enough, and the simple furnishings of my room had grown familiar over the past two months.

I'd had visions of meeting with Gavin during the entire time I'd been here.

I'd imagined confrontations, arguments, dramatic speeches about honor and consequences.

When I'd met with him—even punched him in the face, which had felt incredibly satisfying—I'd found that what I felt most of all was depleted, worn out by the emotional weight of it all.

I was sad, for both myself and for Gavin.

In the end, getting his lady love didn't seem to be the bed of roses he’d probably imagined, if her behavior today was any indication.

The woman who'd inspired him to throw away everything was revealed to be petty and demanding, prone to tantrums when she didn't get her way.

I thought over my own feelings as I settled into bed, pulling the rough blanket up to my chin.

The anger was still there, but it was cleaner now, more focused.

I'd shown my anger with my fist, delivered the king's rejection, watched them be turned away by the king himself. It should've felt more triumphant.

Instead, I just felt tired. Tired and oddly hollow, as though the anger had been holding me together and now that it was partially spent, I was discovering what lay underneath.

I was sad to say that vengeance didn't seem to be an easy mistress either. Like most things I'd thought would bring satisfaction, it had turned out to be more complicated than I'd expected.

I closed my eyes, trying not to think about the letter still in my pocket. About Wenda's careful, final words. Tomorrow I'd have to write responses—to her, to my mother, to all the people trying to maintain connections with a man whose future had become uncertain.

But tonight, I just wanted to sleep and forget, for a few hours, that my old life was truly over and my new one was still taking shape.