Page 30 of Fae Divided
“I do not think we have anything left to talk about, Ambassador Faraday.” Green eyes flashed with intelligence and annoyance.
Rose, we can work out this misunderstanding.
“The situation with Abigail was far from a simple misunderstanding.” The queen raised a single eyebrow, entirely aware Sarah could hear the US emissary’s plea.
Situation? Had the ambassador withheld aid in locating Abby after her kidnapping?
“I have another appointment waiting,” Lady Rose said, twirling her index finger in an impatient wrap-it-up motion.
Milady, it is imperative—”
“Good day, Michael.” The queen slid the small screen closed, placed the iPhone face down on her desk, and then turned to Sarah. “Now, what brings you to my office this morning?”
“Thank you for agreeing to see me.” Sarah bobbed an abbreviated curtsy. The accepted form for greeting one of the country’s Nine regional monarchs.
“Your brother is the Commander of the Guard and the Ferwyn Clan príoh. The third highest-ranking individual in the East South Central Region. If you felt he could not help you with an issue, then it must be serious.”
“He doesn’t know I’m here.”
“I see.” Lady Rose leaned her hips against the edge of the desk, hands clasped loosely in front of her slim waistline. Posture relaxed and patient. As though she had all the time in the world for the local daycare owner to request a favor. “What do you need?”
What do you need?
Beyond her connection to Samuel, Lady Rose didn’tknowSarah. They didn’t socialize. They weren’t friends. But she was offering her aid freely.
Sarah had to clear her throat before asking, “Where is my Ca’anam?”
The vampire’s full lips pursed, and she tilted her head to the side. “I do not know. Why would you think that I would?”
The camphor odor of deception was completely absent from her scent.
“So, itwasthe prince,” Sarah murmured in resignation, dropping into the chair with an unladylike thud. She would have to brave a showdown with the heir after all—a scenario, which just a few weeks ago, would have been unimaginable. But things had changed since James left.Shehad changed.
The queen went motionless, an unnerving stillness only a Dádhe could achieve. She didn’t blink—she didn’t breathe. It was as though she were carved from ice. Or fine marble.
And then she burst into action, kicking away from her desk with a shriek. “That addlepated batchelor’s son!”
“Milady?” Sarah gasped as the queen yanked her from the chair by her wrist, forcing her to stand and then tugging her through the outer office.
Did Lady Rose just call the prince a stupid bastard?
“Bring my sword.” The order to her secretary was muffled by the long incisors crowding her mouth.
Zee didn’t even blink. “Yes, my queen.”
They marched past Mikhail and Jessup, Sarah struggling to keep pace with the angry monarch. The Ferwyn were quick to catch up to their royal charge; their swords in one hand, semi-automatic pistols in the other.
The Anwyll soldiers’ tattoos lit up like Christmas trees as Lady Rose barreled down the hallway, the witches bracing to face whatever threat chased the queen. The Guard’s wary expressions changed into confusion as she shoved them aside and burst into the prince’s office with Sarah in tow.
Gregory couldn’t hide his shock at their explosive entrance, his baby blues impossibly wide.
Sarah had avoided the far too perceptive assistant since the run-in at the Riverfront Café. Noah discounted the vampire’s accusation that she’d seen his sire—which only sharpened her guilt. One of the hardest things Sarah had ever done was to keep James’ reappearance a secret from their son.
“Move,” Zee cried, the diminutive witch plowing through the much larger Guard members. Her elbows were high and wide, carrying the sheathed katana on upraised palms. “Milady, your sword.”
Lady Rose released Sarah, accepting the deadly weapon preferred by the Dádhe race. She slid the single-edged sword from its decorative scabbard, revealing polished jewel steel.
“Lady Rose, what’s happened?” Gregory asked, gaze flying to the naked blade the queen wielded with obvious skill.
