Page 75 of Amidst the Insidious Courts
Ohh, she might want these as well. I snatch the ring blades out of the drawer in my armoury with a satisfied smile. This whole corner of the giant panelled room has been curated specially for my mate. I’ve been collecting for years, so it’s taken me almost two days to figure out which ones might be best to begin her education, mostly because I keep getting distracted by all the sparkles.
One day I’ll bring her here and show off the brightly lit room full of shiny stabby toys. We didn’t spend nearly enough time in my court before we had to run off and fetch the púca. I just know she’ll love the way the torchlight flickers off the silver…
“Lord Lorcan.”
“Go away, Widdikins.” I shoo him off with one foot—because my arms are busy.
I need to stop by the vault and grab some more jewellery before I leave. It’s hilarious watching the vein in the dullahan’s temple twitch as I cover Rose in jewels while he frets over how to give her one tiny necklace.
Silly Winter Court high fae and their stupid engagement rituals. Why bother tricking your mate into wearing some silly piece of metal when she can wander around wearing a stylish scarlet cap instead?
“It’s Winstan, my lord.” There’s a thread of disapproval in his tone, and my lips quirk. “And I believed you might want to know about the attempts to destabilise the troop in your absence.”
My head turns, but I keep my body turned towards the locker and the important business of arming my mate.
The redcap before me takes in my armful of weapons and my bare feet with red eyes full of scorn. Like a lot of the young ones, he’s decided a red-dipped beard and moustache is the fashion, and I grimace at the waste of good blood.
“Mutiny?” I can’t suppress the glee in my voice. “Ohhh! It’s been ages since we had a good backstabbing! Who is it, Withers? Which of them thinks they have the guts to take my spot?”
For a brief second, I consider letting them succeed. I have things to do, most of which now involve watching Rose, or fucking her, or just listening to her talk. Her fever was so delicious, but distracting. We never even got to use that enchantment that I had set into my pearls…
Wilbur is still staring at me. Oh, right, mutiny.
I guess I’ll deal with it. Rose might want a bloodthirsty army of redcaps at her beck and call. And besides, I enjoy pissing off Cressidick too much to let this little slice of her court go now.
I really must remember to get Rose another present for getting me out from under that bitch’s thumb… Perhaps she’d enjoy another dagger… or maybe the flayed cocks of her enemies…
Wait…
What was I doing again?
Oooh, yes, getting her more pointy things.
Ignoring Wimples, I step back to regard my mate’s corner of the vast armoury. No. There’s a whole wall of daggers for her to choose from. Perhaps a spear? Very practical for a female, especially one of her size…
“Lillian is the one responsible for most of the whispers, sire.”
“Good on her,” I reply, distractedly. “I didn’t think she had the balls.”
Then again… I stop with my hand outstretched and ready to claim a curved sword to the already heavy pile of spiky things in my arms.
Wimbly can’t judge me. We all know I’m a sparkle whore.
“How long has it been since my last leadership reshuffle?” I ask my second, frowning. “No. Wait. Don’t answer that.”
It was just after Rose got me out from under Cressidick’s thumb. Only a quarter of a century. Their lack of loyalty is disappointing, but I suppose it’s to be expected.
Fae love a bit of excitement, after all. What better way to spice up the ennui of such long lives than a coup?
Sighing, I step closer to Winters, dumping my bladed burden into his arms. “Wrap these in something soft. Maybe add some bows or something. Glitter. My mate deserves the best. I’ll be back when I’ve killed everyone.”
Winstable has been in the troop so long he doesn’t even blink. It’s almost enough to make up for his boring lack of ambition.
He may hate me, but he serves more faithfully than most of the rest. I’m so good at cultivating worthy friendships… or maybe that’s because at one point I stole his name. Eh, I can’t remember.
Humming to myself, I blink directly into Lillian’s home and start the boring process of dealing with insubordination with a sigh.
“You know,” I say to Lillian’s dismembered head once I’ve finished arranging it and several others on the pikes outside my tree-palace. “You should be grateful that I waited for you to close your mouth before I killed you. This way you won’t catch flies.”
