Page 89 of The Fae Kings' Bargain

She blinked up at him, clearly surprised at his admission. “I…don’t think I know what to do with that.”

“Accept it for what it is. Both apology and confession,” Toren said, his smile wry. “If you wish to remain the royal consort on a formal basis, I’ll honor your request, but I consider you my wife every bit as much as I consider Mehl my husband. Provided that is acceptable to you, Mehl?”

His husband’s soft laugh warmed the space and dispelled some of the lingering tension. “You know it is. And seeing it is so, we should do our best to grant our wife’s wishes. Starting with an official escort to both the royal library and the mage’s library. Would you like to do that this afternoon, Ria? After a formal introduction from the both of us, no one will stop you from learning about your magic.”

No matter how much Toren wanted her at their side each day, the brightness of her dawning smile made stifling his own desires more than worthwhile.

* * *

Although Mehl preferredthe quiet times when he and Toren helped each other dress, they’d spent too much time talking to Ria for that. While Ria returned to her room with Feref so she could prepare, Mehl and Toren bathed as quickly as possible before allowing a handful of servants to unsnarl hair and pick out clothes. It was foolish, but appearance was no small part of power, at least at court. They could not afford to lose regard.

By the time they rejoined Ria in the corridor, Mehl wanted fiercely to avoid more people—except for Ria and Toren, of course. He couldn’t imagine howshefelt if he, long accustomed to court life, was tired of the constant attention. What had Toren been thinking to simply declare that they would be formally married soon? No matter how much Mehl agreed with the sentiment, he’d realized at once that it was a mistake. She wasn’t ready.

Perhaps none of them were.

Barring tragedy, they had centuries to explore their link. Hadn’t he and Toren been together for decades before their own wedding? Really, it might have taken that long to plan the elaborate ceremony and the surrounding celebrations. His husband was worried about including Ria, but offering her a lesser wedding would be an insult. Although the possibility of tragedy did loom at the moment, she deserved better than continued haste.

Time would be a far better gift. If Toren hadn’t understood that yet, then seeing Ria’s stunned awe as they walked through the Grand Library surely clarified things. It was obvious that she’d never had a chance to see it, even though the room was open to all. Her father must have prevented her from studying. The very thought had Mehl’s hands clenching into fists.

As soon as they passed through the door to the Mage’s Library, Sir Everot, a high-ranking Mage-Archivist, practically leapt from his seat in shock at their entry. And no wonder—such disturbances weren’t common since visitors had to petition for entry in advance.

At least there were some benefits to being royalty.

Sir Everot bowed. “Your Majesties. My lady. It is a pleasure to see you this fine afternoon.”

Ah, Everot was a clever one. Even Toren’s lips twitched at the question hidden in the man’s tone.What are you doing here?

“Thank you, Everot. It is a pleasure, indeed,” Toren replied. “But we will not disturb your work for long. Sir Everot, it would please me for you to make the acquaintance of Lady Ria, Duchess of Nevial. Ria, Everot is in charge of the Mage’s Library.”

The archivist inclined his head. “Well met, my lady.”

Ria smiled. “Well met.”

“Lady Ria is to be given full access to this library,” Mehl said, making it clear that both he and Toren were in support of the visit. “Please help her with any information that she requests.”

“Ah.” Sir Everot blanched, but he drew himself together admirably. “Is she an apprentice to one of the city mages, Your Majesties?”

Mehl caught the echo of Ria’s resigned sigh.

As did Toren. “I do hope you are not questioning King Mehl’s order. Its polite delivery did not intend to suggest the possibility of debate.”

“Of course not,” Sir Everot hurried to say. “I meant no insult, Your Majesty. However, some of the texts here could be dangerous without guidance. Unfettered and unsupervised access could prove harmful to Her Grace.”

Fear took up sudden residence in Mehl’s heart. And he wasn’t alone—he sensed varying degrees of uneasiness from both Toren and Ria. What should they do? It was important for her to learn more about her gift, but would she get hurt in the process?

“Did your father provide you any formal training, love?” Toren asked.

Sir Everot’s ears perked up at that, though whether it was the question or the endearment, Mehl couldn’t guess.

Ria didn’t appear to notice. “No,” she replied. “What I know I learned from my mother before her death, and those skills were sufficient for my work. Father would never have gone to the expense of more than that. But I…I can’t imagine attempting anything dangerous. Altering fabric never seemed particularly risky.”

“Altering fabric?” The considering gleam of a scholar sparked in Sir Everot’s eyes. “A fascinating use of transfiguration magic. I recommend taking lessons from an experienced mage when possible, but I could pull out some nice, safe student texts on the matter in the meantime. Come, I’ll show you the shelves on theory and get you settled at a table with a few.”

Ria stared at the archivist with the same wide-eyed horror of a new recruit handed their first weapon. Though Toren frowned with worry, Mehl chuckled. “Why not get started?” Mehl asked, gently nudging her with his elbow.

She bit her lip. “Now?”

“We were going to take her to the royal archives next,” Toren reminded him.

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