Page 60 of Ironling
Whatever he saw, the fae eventually nodded once. The air returned to its mild autumn temperature, and Bellarand nickered.
“Very well. If you speak for her, I trust it is true.”
Hakon worked to hide the surprise from his face but didn’t think he succeeded.
“Please,” said Allarion, “I wish to speak with the heiress and resolve the matter.”
Slowly, Hakon nodded. “She’ll be in her study this time of morning.”
“Take me there?”
Hakon reluctantly agreed, untying his leather apron and throwing it across the sill of an open smithy window. He caught Fearghas’s round eyes through the gloom.
“Best tell Captain Aodhan that the heiress has an otherlyguest,” he told the old human.
“I’m not sure the captain needs to know,” Allarion said.
“But he’ll want to. He’s a good man. Fair. Just wants to ensure the safety of the heiress.”
Allarion made a considering sound in his throat but otherwise stood still, waiting for Hakon to lead him into the castle.
With another nicker, Bellarand turned around to trot back out of the bailey.
“Yes, all right. Stay out of trouble,” Allarion called after him.
The unicorn flicked his long tail.
“Dare I ask where he’s going?” said Hakon.
“Back into the courtyard to inspire terror and awe. They are his favorite.”
“I see.” He didn’t, but he was too unsettled to say anything else.
Hakon kept the fae in his peripheral vision as he led him up and into the castle. The beast wanted to lead him straight to the dungeons to lock up the potential threat, but Hakon swallowed the asinine desire. Allarion was right—he’d never been aggressive or threatening toward anyone, let alone Lady Aislinn.
Still, he didn’t savor bringing the fae to her, if only because Allarion’s business was likely to upset her. And mean more work. Which might threaten their afternoon together.
The dungeon is starting to sound like a good option.
It wasn’t until the third floor, however, that Hakon remembered one vital detail. He didn’t know which door was Lady Aislinn’s study. He knew exactly which was her window and could make an educated guess—but he didn’t want to barge into rooms.
Thankfully, the chatelain, Brenna, exited one of the rooms down the hall.
“Mistress Brenna!” he called.
The older woman looked on in shock—perhaps even horror—as they approached. Hakon tried not to take offense. Like Fearghas, she’d made it clear since he’d arrived that she didn’t approve of him nor Lady Aislinn spending time with him in the smithy.
“What is this about?” she asked, eyes narrowing.
“Which is Lady Aislinn’s study? Lord Allarion has important business.”
To her credit, the chatelain didn’t wither or quiver. She met the fae’s chilly stare as she looked between him and Hakon.
“Lord Allarion doesn’t have an appointment.”
“I can wait,” the fae said. “I’m a patient male. Just show me to the great hall where I might wait for the heiress.”
A tendon in Brenna’s cheek twitched. “That won’t be necessary.” She nodded to the door two down. “That’s her study. But don’t keep the lady long, she has important work to do.” Gathering herself up to her full height, she leveled Hakon with a steely glare. “And she’s far too busy to waste time with you today, blacksmith.”
