Page 81 of Amidst the Insidious Courts
As if I’d be anywhere else right now. Locking my jaw to hold the retort back, I settle for a nod of acknowledgement. Her eyes are narrowed, taking in my choice of seat with silent judgement.
The spring queen is dressed as regally as ever and shadowed by a handful of beautiful attendants who glow a little when she waves them over to the floor before her throne. They shy away from Wraith, who’s taken the cushions no doubt intended for them, as his own. To my mind, his presence on the floor beside them makes it clearer than ever that Aiyana’s lovers are little more than pets to her.
I glance behind me at Drystan and Bree, who are watching our interaction with passive expressions. Mimicking their stoicism doesn’t come naturally to me. I’m sure every second of my discomfort shows on my face as Aiyana takes her seat and holds a hand up for silence.
The arena holds its breath.
“In a few moments, justice will be served,” she says, her voice magnified by some hidden enchantment. “Centuries ago, a knight sworn to my service betrayed my trust. In response, I banished anyone from the House MacBlaid from these lands. Today, his son will undertake the trial of restitution, proving once and for all that even the Guard is not above our most ancient laws.” She pauses. “But first, there is entertainment to be had! Let’s show Danu’s chosen daughter, the pleasures of the Spring Court.”
What is this?My mouth opens, but whatever protest I might’ve made is cut off by the joyful trill of pipes accompanied by the deep, sonorous rumble of drums.
Three dozen fae dancers, clad in gauzy, revealing outfits, race out onto the sand and begin a complex twirling routine. Their long sleeves flutter like pastel flags in the breeze, and their bodies move to the music. It’s enchanting. On any other day, I’d be captivated.
Aiyana leans forward, but she’s not focused on the dancer, her attention has been caught by Wraith.
“Such an unusual choice of companion for a Nicnevin.”
“No more so than a moat filled with fae-eating eels.” I’m proud of how steady my voice is.
“Those were my mother’s doing,” Aiyana corrects. “Though I suppose they serve a purpose.”
Her hand twists into the hair of one of the males by her feet, guiding him until he’s pressing kisses to the outside of her thigh.
Oh Danu, please don’t make me sit through watching her come again.
As if in answer, Wraith lays his head across my lap and glares at the spring queen. Her lovers might make pretty pets, but my barghest is deadly, and his entire focus is on her.
“What exactly was Sir Braiden’s crime?” I ask, settling back on the throne as the dancers continue to weave patterns across the sand.
Aiyana stiffens, her fingers turning to claws in her pet’s hair. “I would’ve thought your shifter would’ve told you the whole sorry story.”
“As far as he and the rest of the realm is concerned, it’s a simple matter of a male finding his mate and choosing to accept the bond.” I shrug.
Her face is thunderous as she shoves the male away from her and levels her full focus on me. “My lovers are required to forswear their mates when they come into my service. I honour that sacrifice by giving them anything they could ever want. He agreed to my terms, but the second that snooty little scholar came along, he claimed his wolf couldn’t even look at me. He begged to be released from his vow—like the centuries we had spent together before her meant nothing.” Are the tears glistening in the corners of her eyes from rage or sorrow? “Imeant nothing. All because that mangy animal in his head chose someone else.”
“He broke his promise.” It sounds like Aiyana might even have genuinely loved Jaro’s father, in which case, I can almost sympathise a little. “That must have hurt.”
Still, she’s had dozens of lovers in the years since then. Her wounded pride isn’t worth holding a grudge for so long or taking it out on a dead male’s son.
“Mating is the worst of Danu’s choices for our people,” Aiyana continues, settling back in her throne to stare absently at the dancers. “A mockery of free will, and yet some fae wait millennia in hope, only to die alone, having never found theirs. It’s a miserable system, and many of us wish to be free of it.”
Understandable, especially if your own mate tried to kill you.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” I concede. “But if free will means so much to you, why do you hate Sir Braiden so much for exercising his? It seems to me like you don’t believe in choice at all, simply in control.”
All three of her forgotten attendants are gaping at me in horror, and when I look back, Kitarni’s face has gone slack. Oh dear. I don’t need to check to feel Drystan glaring daggers into my back.
Before either of us can say anything, however, a pointed male cough interrupts us.
“Nicnevin, Your Highness, High Priestess,” he acknowledges us in turn from his place at the top of the steps. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Aiyana’s stormy anger evaporates, and the flicker of vulnerability that was swimming in her eyes a moment ago is quickly hidden, replaced with cool indifference as she waves him forward into the box.
I suppose I should thank the stranger for saving me from my own runaway mouth, but one glance at him makes me shiver. He seems unremarkable enough. His round face is framed by neat, chin-length brown hair, and he wears the robes of the priesthood, but his blue eyes are flat and assessing as we study one another. Nearly every other priest I’ve met has regarded me with awe or respect. This stranger clearly feels neither.
“Mervyn, I was wondering when you’d show up.” Aiyana waves him across to her side. “Nicnevin, this is Grand Cleric Mervyn. He’s served as the representative of Danu in my court for some decades now.”
I would say it’s nice to meet him, but it would be a lie. He sets my teeth on edge. Instead, I offer him a half nod and turn my attention to the dancers once more.
