Page 80 of A Court So Dark
“I hear you’re an accomplished archer,” Mythorne said with a sidelong glance at Cardian, the fucking tattletale.
“Um, I certainly am.”
“I love to hear it. I do love a female who can handle herself during the hunt. Perhaps you and I can have some fun out in my woods at some point.”
Not a chance, you asshole. You’ll be an empty husk as soon as I get my hands on you.
“And do you have any… special skills?” Mythorne gestured toward a servant to take away his plate.
“I don’t,” I replied, knowing that by special he meant magical.
He grunted. “That is unfortunate. I hear you are a shadowdrifter, Earl Qierlan, a fact you’ve kept well hidden up until now. I bet you wish you’d passed some of that on to youroffspring.”
The way he saidoffspringmade me wonder if he suspected the earl was Kalyll’s father. Whatever the case, it was a moot point, especially when Queen Eithne had made sure to create a narrative that assured everyone King Beathan had sired Kalyll.
“The earl” sipped his wine, then answered, “I certainly wish my son had inheritedsomethingfrom me. He’s good for nothing. He disappoints me at every turn.”
“What a pity. There’s nothing more satisfying and pride-inducing than… seeing yourself in your son.”
There was a hint of pain in the Unseelie King’s words. I paused and glanced in his direction, and for a moment, thought I caught proof of that pain in his gaze, but it all happened too fast to be sure.
When dinner was over, Mythorne stood and addressed me with gentleness. “Lady, I would love to take a walk with you in my gardens. I believe you will appreciate their… wild beauty.”
The thought of going anywhere with him put my teeth on edge, but this was exactly what we wanted.
I set down my napkin on my unfinished food. “It would be a pleasure.”
Kalyll stood to pull my chair back. He offered his hand and helped me stand. I strolled toward the front of the table, acting unhurried as I composed myself. Kalyll followed several paces behind me.
Mythorne shook his head. “There’s no need for your presence, Earl Qierlan.”
“I will not allow her to go without a chaperone,” Kalyll said.
“Do you not trust me?” The question was loaded, the kind that didn’t need to be asked because there was only one acceptable answer.
I glanced back over my shoulder and gave Kalyll a reassuring smile. I could defend myself all too well, and he knew it. This was our opportunity.
“I promise to remain well away from her,” the Unseelie King said.
A curious thing to say, and once more, I found myself wondering if he knew exactly who we were.
“Very well.” Kalyll inclined his head, looking pleasant, though I could tell from the stormy look in his eyes that he was fighting not to let Wölfe take control of the situation.
I kept walking, praying that he would prevail over his wilder side. It wouldn’t do to cause a confrontation that could end badly when we had the means to quietly dismantle his dark court.
As we exited the dining hall, Mythorne walked briskly ahead of me, moving as lithely as only the Fae can. I went after him, memorizing the winding halls in case I needed to find my way back by myself. This side of the castle was as dark and foreboding as the rest. I didn’t like this place at all. The shut-in feel, the lack of proper light. It made me feel as if I was trapped inside a mausoleum. I could almost smell the dank rot and the sweet decay of dead flowers, but I was sure it was all my imagination.
When I passed through a narrow door, and a cool breeze caressed my face, it was a relief. Though it was dampened by the lack of good lighting. It took my eyes a moment to adjust and take in the gardens that Mythorne assumed I would enjoy.
The moon shone meekly over the exotic landscape, illuminating a host of strange plants and bushes such I had never seen. The air was filled with a poignant mixture of smells, also unrecognizable.
In the center, a large tree sent its branches reaching up to the sky. White flowers in the shape of wine glasses seemed to shiver. A pool of water gurgled near the tree, its surface dark and oily. A variety of plants grew around it, their leaves leathery and glossy. A twisted plant with leaves like feathers caught my eye. What in the world?
Mythorne stood ahead of me on a wide cobble path. With a hand gesture, he invited me to join him. I did so, closing the distance between us, a distance that he quickly widened, pushing to the very edge of the path.
“I promised your father I would keep my distance,” he said, starting an easy stroll.
He either was very honorable, didn’t trust anyone getting close to him or suspected something. Of course, my vote was on one of the last two options. This bastard didn’t have one honorable bone on his body.
