Page 61 of The Wicked Lies of Habren Faire
“Oh?” he says. I wish I could see his face.
“It’s been a lovely time.” I shrug. “But that’s all it is.”
“Of course.” I can almost hear the smile in his voice.
“I should say thank you.”
“You sound unpracticed.”
“I hate being indebted to people. But thank you: for saving me after the bell tower, for giving me this time to recover and for keeping your word. I’ve been unharmed.”
“And my people have made you feel welcome?”
I’ve felt like little more than a pet to Mabyn and the other staring teg. A funny little thing to pass half an hour with, to be dumped in the river when it’s grown. To Beth, whom I’ve seen the most, I’m almost a threat to her position as the most interesting human in the manor. But for once I can’t make myself lie, so my mouth remains shut.
“They haven’t, then,” Neirin says.
My face twitches. “Why can’t Beth leave?”
If he could, I think he would lie now. “She stayed too long. If she tried to walk back into her time, all those years could catch her at once.”
“Shouldn’t Beth look like the man in the tavern, then?” I eye him carefully.
Besides Beth, I’ve met three other humans in Eu gwlad: the consort, the soldier, the servant. The king’s consort won immortality, while the soldier remains stuck in his final moment, unable to slip into the next stage of his life because it’s already been ripped away. But the servant? The lost man in the tavern had aged. Horribly so.
Neirin grins. “Ah, you noticed. She’s protected here, as are you.”
“So, she doesn’t age in your court?”
“Her face stays young,” Neirin says blithely. “Once she leaves, that might cease to be the case.”
My thoughts snag on his words.Her face stays young. “That’s a strange way to put it. You’ll have to show me how to leave safely.”
Neirin’s brow furrows. “You still plan to leave?”
“I have to.”
His hand brushes the bow hanging at the small of my back, his fingers trailing down the silk tail of it. Then he lets me fall away.
When I glance around, his hands are behind his back, but I felt it. I did.
“What if I could promise you safety?”
“You can’t. I’d only be safe here, with you.”
“Would that really be so bad?”
My mouth goes dry. “The deal we made stated that I’d only stay here if I failed. As an oddity, remember? To entertain.”
“It would be different.” He says it so quickly that it’s clear he hasn’t given it any thought at all.
I wonder if he told Beth the same thing, once. Staying here, with Neirin, where it’s safe, would be no better than staying all my life in Llanadwen. It may be prettier, and the food’s better, and at least here there’s someone who would be happy to call me their friend—but I’d still be stuck. Eu gwlad would be just as out of reach from Neirin’s manor as the rest of the real world is from my town. I wouldn’t abandon my remaining family for anything, let alone such a small prize.
“If it’s to be the road come morning,” Neirin says eventually, pulling me from my own head, “I shall ask you to dance with me tonight.”
A door opens, leading into a large marble room with a piano tucked into the corner and a domed glass ceiling. Tables laden with rich food have been pushed to the sides to make way for dancing, and the teg gather in the formal attire of centuries past and yet to come. Panniers butt up against crinolines, and French hoods are worn with the tightest skirts I’ve ever seen. Neirin stands in the center of his little world, bathed in the glow of this false evening and holding out a hand to me.
I toe the threshold, arms crossed over my fine coat and dress. “I doubt we know the same dances.”
