Page 266 of Kingdoms of Night

“She didn’t—” Geraint hid his hand with the vine still wrapped around his wrist behind his back. “We didn’t—It’s none of your business. Have you seen her?”

Wain nodded. “She was out picking flowers. Which is weird. Is that genocide, since she’s a flower herself?”

Geraint moved past Wain. As he stepped outside into a garden, he scented her. His sense of smell had never been particularly strong. But that lavender scent of shower-fresh powder with a hint of woodsy smoke drew him like a hound. With his tunnel vision, he turned a corner of green hedges and bumped into her.

“Forgive me, my lady.” Geraint reached out and steadied Enid before she could fall. “It appears I’m constantly causing you injury.”

She didn’t laugh at his attempt at humor. She didn’t meet his eyes. She clutched tightly at a bag in her hand. Her fingertips pale where she gripped the strings.

“Are we ready to depart?” she asked.

“You still want to leave with me?”

“Of course.” She lifted her gaze then. “I’m your wife. Do you have your things?”

“I have everything I need within my reach.”

Geraint’s fingers tightened at her elbow. Enid didn’t pull away. She searched his gaze, as though trying to find the trick in the game that was afoot. Geraint held her stare, not flinching as she looked her fill.

Enid’s features relaxed after a long moment. Her fingers loosened their grip on her bag. She parted her lips, but Geraint would never know what she meant to say to him.

“Leaving so soon?”

The tension snapped back into her shoulders like a rubber band pulled taut. Enid’s expression turned pained. Geraint looked over her shoulder to see her father.

The fairy king’s gaze went to Geraint’s hand on his daughter’s elbow. To make the new allegiances perfectly clear, Geraint wrapped his arm around Enid’s waist and pulled her into his side. He wanted to let her know that that man and his tricks would never harm her again.

“I’m ready to take my bride home,” said Geraint.

Enid remained rigid in his hold, but she didn’t move away from him. In fact, she may have moved slightly closer. Finally, he was doing something right. It wouldn’t end there.

“No, no, you can’t leave just yet,” said Gyges. “I haven’t yet given you my wedding present.”

“The gift of my bride is more than I could ever ask for,” said Geraint. “I will treasure her every day of my life.”

Enid looked up at him. Her expression was impassive as ever. But he saw it; he saw a slight widening of her eyes. A slight parting of her lips.

Warmth flooded him that he affected her so. He pledged then and there to learn all the secrets to make her eyes go wider. To make her lips split into a full on smile.

As Geraint gazed down adoringly at his wife, her father opened his hand. The charm in the fae’s palm managed to turn Geraint’s head. Geraint’s gaze narrowed, and the smile fell from his lips as he regarded the magical object being extended to him.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

"This is a trap."

Enid said the words quietly into Geraint’s ear, but she wasn't sure he heard her. Actually, she wasn’t sure if she’d said the words out loud at all. Since she’d stepped out of the fireplace back at the Valkyrie stronghold, Geraint had rarely taken his eyes off her. Right now, his gaze was stuck on the center of her father’s palm.

She should have made it back to her room faster. That way, they would’ve waylaid her father. She should have insisted they leave the moment she saw him this morning. No, she should have insisted they leave last night. She knew better than to leave anything out in the open lest her father find a way to manipulate and break it.

The pulsing heart that lay in her father’s hand would turn any man’s head. In real time, she watched as Geraint slipped away from her and right into her father’s palm. Gyges would have the man turning tricks to get that particular priceless object.

Except Geraint hadn’t loosened his hold on her. He tucked her even closer into his side. His fingers curled at the small of her back, not letting her go to reach for the object.

“Sir knight?” said Enid.

Geraint turned his head, but only slightly. His gaze never left the heart-shaped charm. The charm wasn’t the rounded shape with a pointed end of a doodled heart. No, it was in the shape of the ventricular chambers of the actual organ. Because that’s what it affected.

“Is that a Takrut amulet?” Geraint asked.

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