Page 114 of Made

“Since I have no historical comparison, I’ll take your word for it.”

“Aye. Take my word for it.”

“Did you bring a gift?” Vidar asked.

Niall said, “No,” without a hint of shame, which was entirely consistent with the fact tat he felt none. Pointing at the pile of gifts, large and getting larger by the minute, Niall said, “The brat has no need of another trinket from me. ‘Tis no’ as if such a gesture would have a bearin’ on my reputation.”

“Probably not.”

“Who invited you?” Niall asked.

“You did.” Vidar knew he could claim Niall had asked him to come when drunk and Niall would never know the difference.

“Oh. Aye. I remember now.” Pause. “And glad yer here, o’course.”

“Right. Well. Want to have some fun?”

Niall perked up, just as Vidar hoped he would. “What’s the game?”

“The game is this. You see that little dragon?”

“How could I miss it? My mum gave the little bugger to my niece as a welcome-to-the-world present or some such shite.”

“Notice he’s trying very hard to get that ribbon off its snout?” Niall looked toward the dais and nodded. “Well, you might casually venture onto the platform to personally wish your brother’s child a healthy, prosperous life. Before you leave, you might accidentally pull at one end of the ribbon controlling that dragon and let him loose.”

“How would that be fun?”

“It wouldn’t. It’s what the dragon will do once set free that will be unforgettable fun.”

“Unforgettable?” Niall was practically salivating. “He’ll cause commotion?”

Vidar pinned him with the gaze of a demigod so that Niall would know he was very serious. “Oh. Yeah.” Niall wiped his mouth with the sleeve covering his forearm then shoved the half-full beer stein into Vidar’s abdomen. Vidar smiled, accepted, and nodded. “Go get ‘em, Kraken.”

As Niall crept away, Vidar looked at the overly stylized, oversized mug in his hand. He loosened his fingers and let gravity take over. The stein fell away but dematerialized before it hit the ground. His eyes immediately went to the last place he’d seen Ilmr. She wasn’t there, but hadn’t gone so far away that he didn’t find her.

The queen of Scandinavian fae was watching the royal archers when Vidar came up behind her and whispered in her ear.

“You might want to move closer to the royal reception. Fireworks should be starting soon.”

Without turning around, Ilmr smiled. She wasn’t sure which she liked better, the feel of Vidar’s breath on her neck or the thrill of imagining Maeve on the edge of comeuppance. After casually adjusting her skirts, she began to saunter in the direction of the dais where the monarchy was on display.

Vidar walked beside her.

“I wasn’t sure you were coming,” she said, not looking at Vidar, but nodding at a French diplomat she couldn’t stand.

“Where else would I be?”

“I couldn’t say. With a new lover perhaps?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not done with you.”

Ilmr laughed lightly. “Good to know. I haven’t heard from you lately.”

“By lately, you mean since day before yesterday?”

“Yes. That’s what I mean.”

“Well, my dear. We have a long-distance, commuting kind of relationship. I still have a job, you know. As do you.”

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