Icouldn’tusetheother two wishes. I wouldn’t use them. Ornan was much too dangerous.
But as Dagda’s approaching footsteps echoed from around the corner, I shoved the tokens into my gown, storing them between my breasts. I readjusted my dress and smoothed out the fabric.
When he rounded into the hall, he seemed lost in thought, his eyes locked on the floor at his feet.
He paused. That vast gaze snapped to mine, his brows drawn together. “How is everything?”
I gave him my most innocent shrug. “Is there a problem?”
He removed his crown and brushed his fingers through his jet black hair before returning it to its position on his head. Despite the shadow that always claimed his cheeks and chin, the gesture made him appear like some boy band pop star.
I held back a smile.
“I sense—something happened.” he said.
“Dagda, you left your guests locked in the throne room and me in the hall alone, like an untrustworthy child.” I forced a laugh. “What could have possibly happened?”
His jaw squared, and his hands opened and closed. “You seem unsettled.”
How did he always perceive how I felt? “I didn’t realize you were allowed to mine my emotions for information whenever you wished.”
Something close to guilt flashed across his face. “It is not you in whom I lacked trust. It is the people in that room that are not to be trusted.”
Didn’t I know it? “Next time you hold a ceremony in my honor, perhaps you can provide me with some political context around my guests before allowing me to make a fool of myself?”
“I did not want to overwhelm you.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Or inform your sisters about the problems of the court.”
He had a point. My stomach dipped at the idea of Badb and Macha using the information Ornan had provided. In fact, it might be too late for Dagda’s concerns altogether.
“A fistfight broke out in the middle of my ceremony because I was too ignorant to know better,” I said flatly. “Not sure my sisters could have done much worse.”
He didn’t look convinced but said, “If you want it. Next time you shall receive the whole sordid political context.”
“Promise?”
“Faerie promise, you will get all of it.”
“No.” I quirked an eyebrow. “Promise it's sordid?”
A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Unbelievably so.”
“I hope so.” I pushed myself off the door and approached. I sensed the exhaustion behind his eyes. Ornan was right, whatever had happened while he was away fixing my mistake had cost him. Regret for the role I’d played in that wormed its way into my chest. I slipped my arm through his, unable to ignore its toned hardness and resisting the urge to run my other hand over his muscles just to explore them under my fingers. I gathered my skirts in my free fist. “Shall we? I believe I have an awaiting public eager to hear from their queen.”
That fleeting smile appeared at last, and his shoulders dropped in relief.
“Yes. Yes they are.”
Half an hour later, we moved through the halls to the veranda in a long procession. Dagda and I were at its front, guards and members of the court trailing behind. I wondered if Ornan was back there somewhere. I kept my head held high, my confidence shaken by the realization that many of the people at my back most likely wanted, and may still want, me dead.
The archway that led out onto the veranda stood at the end of the hall like its own passageway to a different world. Faeries dressed in leather armor lined either side of us and bowed as we passed. I noticed Palon standing at the archway’s opening, and took in the centaur faerie guardian etched on his black skin. He was the only guard besides Keelin in the company that had a faerie guardian on his arm. I’d have to ask Dagda why some didn’t have them.
Keelin stood in his faerie armor, designed to highlight the werewolf on his bicep. His family crest etched into the leather matched Mina’s.
“So Keelin and Jazrael are siblings,” I said to Dagda, using Mina’s faerie name.
Dagda looked ahead to his faerie knight. “Yes. Their parents died a long time ago. Jazrael raised Keelin.”I bit my lip, thinking about the brother that Mina didn’t even know she had, and almost snorted at the thought of her being all parental even if it was in another life.
Light drifted through the large archway, held up by intricately crafted marble pillars. Huge gauzy curtains drooped over the entrance, pulled back in anticipation of our procession’s arrival.