Page 69 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
My wings flutter nervously on my back, and I take a steadying breath.
“You can go,” I say to the maids, as they start looking at jewellery. “I’ll finish up myself.”
Accessorising is pointless right now. The only piece I consistently wear is Drystan’s necklace, and that’s only because I promised not to take it off.
“You okay?” Jaro asks, coming up behind me.
“Fine,” I reply, a little too quickly.
“Good.” He presses a soft kiss to my temple. “Caed and I have some things we’d like to ask you.”
That gets my attention. I look over to where the Fomorian is lounging on his pallet—he’s been granted a single cushion and blanket at the foot of the real bed—staring up at me. He’s actually wearing a shirt today, covering the marks of his curse, and I amnotdisappointed in the slightest that he’s chosen to cover up those blue abs. Nope.
I search for Lore, but he’s still snoozing, tucked into bed until only the red of his cap is visible beneath the heavy quilts.
“We’d like to spend the day sparring,” Caed begins. “Wolf-boy has promised he won’t try to kill me, and despite the fact that his pelt would make a lovely throw rug”—Jaro snarls, but Caed ignores him—“I’m bored out of my mind. I could do with the practice.”
My brows rise at that, but I don’t answer him immediately.
I told Drystan I wouldn’t lift the charm, and I meant it. He’s too furious at Caed. It would only lead to carnage. Before now, I would’ve said the same of Jaro.
His animal watched Caed kill me a hundred ways on the sand of that arena. That same creature is still feral from trauma.
“This feels like a bad idea.” I pin my steadfast Guard with a look. “What about your wolf?”
“He’s calmed somewhat, thanks to you.” Jaro shrugs. “Besides, this will help him work off his aggression.”
Work off his aggression? That doesnotsound healthy.
I look at Caed. “You genuinely want me to?—”
“I promise not to thrash the seelie too badly.” His trademark cocky grin is fully in place. “And if he gets a few little scrapes here and there, I’m sure you’ll kiss him better.”
Chewing my lip, I look away from them both.
“He has enough to deal with from the other fae,” I say to Jaro. “I want… you know what I want.”
That moment in the forest where I confessed hangs heavy between us. “I’m just saying, if you’re using this as an excuse to vent your anger at him…”
“I’m not.”
Both Caed and I stare at him, and he snorts softly. “I’m no use to you here. I can’t see spirits, I don’t have wings, and I’m too big to train with you. Drystan has already said I should keep an eye on the Fomorian while he and Bree are gone. I’d rather not have to put up with him talking my ear off, so…”
That’s such an unexpectedly male answer that a startled snort bursts out of me. “Fine. But if anyone comes back missing a limb…”
“Wraith can fetch it for them.” Lore bounces up like he was never asleep to begin with. “And if we’re sparring, I think I should be around. For clean up.”
Jaro frowns. “I thought you had a meeting with some fae named Widders.”
“Wimpikins? Oh, he can wait.” Lore’s hat morphs into a jester’s crown as he leans down to press a kiss to my cheek.
“Wait, is his name not Werthers?” I swear Lore said it was…
The redcap shrugs. “Oh, I accidentally ended up with his true name a while back. Can’t remember it to save my life, though. Shame that.”
Wait… Lore knows this fae’s true name and just… forgot it? There’s got to be more to that story, surely, but he changes the subject before I can ask.
“Besides, the Court of Blades is more than happy to go to war without me. They were salivating for it when they tried to mutiny a few weeks ago.”
