Page 123 of Beyond the Faerie Gate

Jaromir

“He isn’t talking,” Cailu complains. “Well, no. Actually, he won’t shut up. But every time we ask a question, he gives us a sarcastic answer. Or he lies.” He hisses the last word, and I grimace in sympathy.

No fae likes being lied to. It leaves a taste in the back of your mouth akin to biting down hard on something rotten and bitter.

Word games and loopholes are expected and considered a part of our culture. Lies are unfair. The Fomorians know it, and so they’ve always liked to lord their ability over us.

Florian glowers at the twins from behind his sturdy, wooden desk like it’s their fault that Caed is a stubborn bastard, but there’s no real heat in his expression. He knew it was a long shot.

The knight commander’s office is a mess littered with war maps and scrolls of parchment. The most tattered map of them all is hung on the wall next to me, run through with pins and pieces of string. Every single one linking a possible sighting of Bram.

That map is older than I am, and yet Florian still hasn’t given up searching for his youngest brother.

Until we find a body, I don’t think he will.

“You’re sure we can’t torture him?” he grumbles at me.

I roll my eyes, because he knows we can’t. “Not unless you want him draining Rose to heal himself.”

Members of the Guard only normally do that if it’s life or death—when instinct takes over and we have no other choice—but Caed is the enemy. He could intentionally use the bond against her.

If he did, I’d kill him.

Only I can’t.

Because our connection to Rose grants us true immortality as long as she lives.

“I’ll talk to him,” I grumble, shoving away from the wall beside his desk with a groan.

I’ve been here all morning. Trying to smooth things over after Lore decided to kidnap Rose for four hours for a second night in a row.

Needless to say, having the Nicnevin disappear after a Fomorian broke into the palace the day before put everyone on edge. Especially the knights.

Doing it again the next day, after being specifically told not to, was just rubbing salt into the wound.

But when she returned, glowing and dirty with kiss-swollen lips and a secret smile on her face, I couldn’t even be angry with her.

After all, Drystan was right. She’ll go into fever soon.

I’d rather she wasn’t afraid of sex when that happens.

Somehow—Goddess only knows how—Lore is the one who seems to be the best at helping her learn her own desires.

That doesn’t mean I’m not jealous as shit about it, though. He came back wearing her dust both times, grinning like a dick as he strutted around, sparkling for hours until it wore off.

I want her mark on me.

Maybe tonight, when she’s done with Kitarni’s lessons, I’ll ask her to accompany me on a walk into the city to see the markets. I can get Aerla to cook something sweet as a treat for us both to take with us.

There has to be some benefit to being the brother of the palace cook, after all.

I can woo her with food—which my sisters insist is the way to anyone’s heart—and hope that perhaps, at the end of the night, she’ll give me one of her kisses.

You’re being way too hopeful, Jare.

“Jaro, are you even listening?” Florian snaps.

“He’s too busy daydreaming about his plans for our pretty queen,” Cailu teases.

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