Page 173 of The Robin on the Oak Throne

“I thought you already knew. He’s thehero, right?” Graves said sardonically.

“I’m not going to do it.”

“You don’t have to,” he said with a sigh. “It was required when a bond mate was discovered in my day. But you’re not part of the Fae Council, nor did you grow up in their ranks.”

“No, they tried tokill meas a child. I can’t think they’d sanction this if they were still alive.”

“But they’re not,” Graves said.

“No,” she said, deflating at that reality.

She was the last wisp. She had a soulmate bond to the most powerful Druid. Something in that made perfect sense, if it was a continuation of a line. Natural selection. It didn’t make her hate it any less.

“Just ask him about it,” Graves said through clenched teeth. “I bet he bends over backward to reassure you about it.”

Kierse didn’t doubt that for a second.

The show came to a close with that anger and indignation still rattling her bones. She and Graves stood with the restof the audience for a standing ovation. Lyra’s eyes swept to the seats that Kierse had purchased for the entire week. She had noticed them before, but the intrigue was more intense this time. A question in her perfect dark eyes.

“Ready?” Graves asked.

“I’ll meet you in the limo.”

Kierse waited for Lyra at the backstage door. Nearly the entire cast had left before Lyra appeared, dressed in a tight black dress with a large designer bag slung over her shoulder. She didn’t look surprised to see Kierse.

Despite that fact, she still flushed slightly at the sight of her. “Hey.”

“You kept me waiting,” Kierse teased.

“You waited,” Lyra noted.

“I did.”

Kierse fell into stride with her as they headed for the elevators.

“Where’s the guy who is always with you?”

“I sent him to the car,” Kierse told her.

“Hmm.”

They stepped into the elevator, and they were halfway to street level when Lyra pressed the hold button.

“I don’t need a patron or money or anything,” Lyra said quickly. “I know the last time that we met, I was really forward, but I don’t actually…do theater like that. I’m a professional.”

Kierse almost laughed. “I can see that.”

Historically, so much of the backbone of the theater had been held up by, essentially, prostitution to the wealthy. Patrons had come into fashion once more, to allow actors and artists to continue to work. Most of them were notentirely altruistic.

“I’m just being honest.”

“I believe you. Nor am I hoping to pay to sleep with you.” Kierse actually did laugh then. “Does it look like I’ve paid to sleep with anyone?”

“No,” Lyra whispered.

“Nothing against sex workers. The oldest job and everything. I used to live in the attic of a brothel, and the workers were all incredible people. But I’m not propositioning you like that. I’m just interested.”

Lyra took a step back as if that were the last thing she had expected. “Oh.”

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