Page 67 of The Fae Kings' Bargain

Mehl reached out a hand toward her, a question in his eyes. At her nod of consent, he rubbed gentle circles between her shoulder blades, and some of that final bit of tension began to leech from her muscles. She was fine. She’d known in the pool earlier that they would keep her safe, and they would do so now. It was simply going to take time for her instincts to catch up.

“I would much prefer to know what you’re feeling,” Ria replied. “Even the potential fear of that is better than the mystery. Always.”

Toren nodded. “I will endeavor to remember, though I may be unable to oblige in formal settings.”

Without conscious direction, her nose wrinkled. “Which brings us back to the problem at hand, I suppose. Toren…I want a quiet day. More than one quiet day, if possible. Standing around at court isn’t precisely that, but it’s better than being a spectacle.”

“There’s no need to worry, Ria.” Mehl’s hand slowed in its soothing sweep. “I’ll stay with you, rumors or no.”

Though his lips twisted with displeasure, Toren inclined his head. “Very well. Mehl will keep you safe here.”

Curling up in bed with Mehl was an incredibly tempting thought, even if they only caught up on sleep. The soft comfort of their mattress tugged at her until she almost sat back down, but the hint of exhaustion on Toren’s face held her back. He’d had as little sleep as any of them and nearly as much trouble. It would hardly be fair to leave him alone to handle the entirety of the aftermath.

“That wouldn’t be right,” Ria said with a decisive shake of her head. “The rumors must already be brutal after last night’s unusual dinner. Between the abrupt announcement of our contract, the potential poison, and Mehl running after Tes… Well, none of that will be improved by our absence.”

Toren sighed. “No. And since even guards gossip, there might be whispers about your abduction. I’ll no doubt have to make a proclamation about the matter whether you’re there or not. Otherwise, there’s no telling what kinds of rumors will spread.”

“They’d be whispering about our deaths in the village taverns by noon,” Mehl said, his tone wry. But his touch was gentle as he ran his hand down her arm to link their fingers. “More so if Ria and I are absent, it is true.”

Her body swayed toward the bed in one last rebellion before she stiffened her spine. “I’ll stand near the wall close to where one of the guards is stationed. It won’t be as quiet as I’d prefer, but it will ease things in the long run. But you’ll have to think of a way to ensure my safety afterward, because I’m returning to my room to sleep whether you have business or not.”

A hint of her earlier tension returned at that bold claim. What had her time with the kings done to her? It was the second time in a matter of minutes that she’d been so assertive in the face of power, and the first had been open defiance. Had the slight tremor she felt on the inside echoed in her voice? If so, neither king made note of it.

“We’ll consider this issue while we prepare,” Toren said, and this time, she was surprised to see a hint of admiration in his eyes. “I sent out a call to Feref to assist you again, and once he’s seen you properly dressed, he’ll find you a secure spot in the throne room.”

She’d won. The glory of that brought a smile to her face and lightness to her heart. Her father might have called her a coward more than once, but she’d stood against the High King and won. Few joys in life could compare with the rush ofthat.

Bathing rooms notwithstanding.

* * *

Morning court was never enjoyable,but Mehl was more than ready for escape as the tedious couple of hours drew close to an end. The number of veiled complaints, innuendos, and offers they’d rebuffed appalled him. Toren, though—his building anger was like a pending storm, a strike waiting to happen. At least by this point, only the foolish failed to notice the signs, and Feref could easily keep them at bay.

Mehl’s gaze was drawn toward Ria, but he kept his face resolutely forward. He couldn’t gawk at the royal consort, especially not with their current petitioner. Lord Vayan bristled at the slightest hint of insult, and as he was the nephew of one of their closest advisors, offending the man would do them no good.

But blast it all, Ria looked tired. And lonely. She hadn’t been actively snubbed, but no one had bothered to speak to her, either. Mehl was more than familiar with that treatment, in fact. No doubt as soon as he and Toren left, the subtle slights would begin. He’d put up with the same for several decades himself, but few people had been bold enough to take it very far. There would be less hesitation with Ria.

“Do you agree with my decision, King Mehl?” Toren asked.

Feck. His mind had wandered even if his eyes hadn’t. “As you decree, my king,” he replied.

Only Mehl was close enough to hear Toren’s slight huff, a blend of amusement and annoyance. “Then let it be so. Thank you for bringing the problem to my attention, Lord Vayan.”

The young lord bowed low before resuming his place in the crowd. Mehl still had no clue what the man had wanted—which Toren knew full well after his answer. But it didn’t matter. The only thing left was for Toren to make his proclamations, then Feref would conclude court by reading the day’s official announcements.

If Mehl could stay awake during the listing of new alliances, weddings, and births, he’d be able to go curl up with Ria in bed for an hour.

Detecting the slight shift of Toren’s body, Mehl stood at the same time as his husband. But as the courtiers sank to their knees, he kept his face pointed ahead and his expression impassive. Sometimes, being a king bore a great resemblance to being a guard. Showing no reaction during boring functions was perhaps the most shared skill.

The room went entirely silent.

“I have no doubt there are rumors concerning our dinner last night,” Toren said, his voice ringing through the quiet. “And for more than one reason. First, allow me to reiterate that I will tolerate no disrespect toward our new royal consort, Lady Ria Orindl, Duchess of Nevial. A formal presentation will occur in two weeks’ time, as is proper, but considering my brother’s threat, I believed an informal announcement was prudent. That should imply no lessening of her status.”

His husband paused for the crowd to process those words, but Mehl had to stifle a wince. When had Toren decided on a formal presentation? Ria would be upset by the display, and they were hardly prepared, besides. They’d never even managed to commission the formal clothes, something that generally took weeks. Not to mention all the other countless formalities.

“However,” Toren continued, “There is a more pressing problem. One of the Centoi contingent attempted to infiltrate our staff at dinner and later tried to bring harm to the royal family. While no visiting citizen of Centoi should be accosted in any way, since most, if not all, are innocent of wrongdoing, I do advise you to remain vigilant in the castle while I handle this matter with their king. Any future envoys from that kingdom are to be considered a possible threat and watched accordingly.”

Even prior knowledge of Toren’s announcement didn’t quite dull the shock of hearing it said aloud. Their kingdoms had been allied for at least two millennia, which was why Ber had been fostered there in his youth. A potential conflict between them was nearly unthinkable. And the further implications of possible war? There hadn’t been so much as a hint of such a thing during Toren’s reign.

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