“Looks to be a memorable event,” Vidar said as he lightly rubbed the persimmon on his sleeve. He was thinking that it couldn’t have been a more brilliant stroke of luck if he’d planned it that way. A blowout party would be the best possible time for a dragon hatchling to make mischief. It would be memorable indeed.
Niall chatted happily while he wolfed down his stew. He kept his features carefully passive, even though he found the company distasteful. For Vidar, watching the display brought back memories of a time long ago before two-legged creatures developed a concept of table etiquette. That was before the evolution of fae, which had happened accidentally when gods procreating with humans. Vidar’s manners were better even when he was alone in the frozen north, seen by none other than wild creatures who have no use for such things. After all, dining conventions have arisen because of thumbs and cooked food.
The prince let his oversized spoon clank in the bowl where he dropped it, stood abruptly and said, “Ready?”
“Are you certified as a tour guide?”
Niall found that hysterical. “Oops. Forgot my badge.”
As they made their way from one end of the ground floor to the other, Vidar realized there was a second benefit to arriving during a time of great commotion. No one was paying attention to them! Except in the sense of dodging around them with armloads of flowers, or cases of wine, or crates full of white doves. He stopped long enough to quietthe birds’ panic, saying that they’d be set free within a day. No worries.
“You’ve seen the public rooms,” Niall said. “The floors above are family only.”
“Family and friends?” Vidar asked slyly.
With a conspiratorial grin, Niall said, “Why not?” and proceeded to the twin grand-tiered staircases that dominated the center of the castle. “I can always say I’m here to welcome the newest member of the family.”
“I need to think of an appropriate gift.”
That stopped the prince in his tracks. “Gift? Oh. Aye. I need to do the same.” As they climbed the stairs, Niall said, “What would be a good gift from me? I’ve never had a niece before.”
Vidar smirked, rightly guessing that Niall was far too interested in Niall to spend time on gift-giving. “When was the last time you gave somebody a gift?”
One of the things he’d learned during his exile with the wild bros of Scotia was that there are times when it’s appropriate to appear embarrassed. He’d even learned how to fake a blush by holding his breathwith pressurefor a count of twenty. “Never. Should I be embarrassed?”
The only answer was a soft chuckle.
When they reached the head of the stairs, they could see from one end of the floor to the other. The hallway was twenty feet wide, ending, at each end, in a pair of doors that looked like slightly smaller versions of the main doors repaired by Vidar.
“Diarmuid’s rooms are there.” Niall pointed toward. “My sister-in-law may no’ want company.”
Vidar opened his mouth, planning to proceed with the next phase of his plan. He’d hoped to find an unoccupied room behind one of the mystery doors in the hallway andleave Niall sleeping while he took a look around for the baby dragon that was key to his scheme. The casting of a sleep spell was child’s play for an immortal such as himself. But before he could make a sound, the pair of arched doors leading to the king’s quarters exploded outward, sending fragments of splintered wood flying.
“What in the bloody name of Hel!” Niall spluttered, checking himself over for unseemly dust or, gods forbid, tiny wood projectiles.
Vidar opened the nearest door, then gave Niall a compelling command to enter, sleep, and stay asleep until awakened. By him.
That out of the way, he could turn his attention to the large white horse walking slowly toward Vidar.
“Who are you?” Vidar spoke telepathically.
“I am Thorn.” The horse answered in the same way. “I know who you are. And I don’t like you.”
Vidar could see that in Thorn’s eyes without being told.
“I see. Have we met?”
“Leave. Now,” said Thorn.
That wasn’t part of Vidar’s plan. He wasn’t worried. It would take more than a horse to interfere with his mission. But come to think of it, why had a large white horse emerged from the royal family’s second floor residence? He counted oddities such as this among the thing he craved most, next to Ilmr. New experiences.
Evie arrived in the doorway, tying the belt of a red brocade robe with an exaggerated faux sable collar. “Holy smokes!” she said, surveying the damage to the doors. “Look what you’ve done now, you bloody bastard of a horse. Were you raised in a barn? You see? This is exactly why I told you that horses belong in the stable. If it’s good enoughfor the horses that pull the Wild Hunt chariot, it should be good enough for you.” With an almost imperceptible wave of her hand, the doors reassembled in much the same way the castle entrance doors had. She leaned around the horse so that she could clearly see Vidar. “Who are you? And what are you doing up here? The second floor is for family only.”
“Vidar. I’m a friend of family. Niall, to be exact. He was showing me around.”
“Really? Then where is he?”
Vidar looked around like he hadn’t missed the prince. “I don’t know. He was just here.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. She didn’t know what exactly was wrong, but sensed something was ‘off’. “I heard downstairs that congratulations are in order.”