Page 23 of Tournament

Lion team had already completed the framing on a house for a couple who had lost everything in a fire. They were just as boastful and full of themselves as I expected, but they did good work, and their confidence and competitive spirit drove them to make it a competition to see how many houses they could build in a week. The supervisor at the charity said the guys could be a little overbearing, but that they were genuinely hard workers. He also said that their leader, the hulking Talon, had made a few suggestions that would be helpful from a business perspective—ways to cut costs and help with efficiency in the future. Most of the other teams were the same. They were rapidly completing their assigned tasks at their charity while occasionally offering some minor suggestions to improve whatever process they were involved in. Even the Peacocks were doing okay, though they did butt heads with their supervisor regularly. Which was to be expected of men who weren't used to taking orders.

I was pleased when I stopped in to check on Bear team and found that they were close to finishing their assigned task of helping with cleaning and restocking the temporary housing at the healing center and had started talking to the supervisor about organizing a job fair where people with disabilities might find alternate forms of employment if they couldn't return to their old positions. That was the kind of thing I was looking for with this challenge. Thoughtful innovations that showed the men listened to and wanted to help the people they were there to serve.

Unfortunately, the next day there were reports that someone had stolen a large sum of money from one of the worker charity's staff during their lunch break. And there were murmurings that Bear team might be responsible.

I frowned to myself as I made my way down the sidewalk, mulling over the situation. I really doubted anyone on Bear team had stolen the money. They had clean records, and the few interactions I'd had with them didn't lead me to believe they would be the type to steal. But you never knew. I had spoken with the royal advisors this morning about the situation, and they assured me the local police had dismissed the complaint. But I still felt a niggling of guilt. It was my idea to assign these men to these charities. Hopefully, I didn't cause this.

My thoughts trailed off as I approached the orphanage. Just through the pretty gold gate, a silver-haired highborn male was absorbed in an animated discussion with the director of the orphanage. I still hadn't had the opportunity to interact with Adder directly, but I had gleaned just enough about him to not immediately be alarmed at the intense, frowning expression on his handsome face. He always looked angry. For all I knew, he and the director were discussing a plan to get puppies for the children or something equally cute and harmless. The director was frowning slightly and nodding along, but more like he was deep in thought than as though he was upset.

I waved a greeting when I was spotted, making my way down the walkway with its riot of cheery flowers and small shade trees. Even though the orphanage was in the city, it was set apart a bit, with enough space for a yard out front and an extensive garden out back—space for children to run and play with nature around them, the way it should be.

"Good afternoon, miss Rina," the director greeted, nodding his balding head and giving me a warm smile. His name was Mr. Warbler, and I quite liked the man. He gave off a warm, jovial energy, and I suspected he might have a touch of brownie or house sprite of some kind in his ancestry.

"Good afternoon," I replied, beating back a sudden surge of silly nervousness when I felt Adder's eyes on me. "I was just stopping to check in. The royals are excited to hear how things are progressing, as always."

I was known to all the charity supervisors and directors, but like everyone else in this game, they all thought I was monitoring things for the queen and the Prize, snooping and reporting to the royals and to a nameless, faceless highborn who was invested in the tournament's outcome but didn't want to give away her identity. The queen's spell kept them from digging any deeper or asking questions.

Mr. Warbler surprised me by reaching out and slapping the tall, stoic man beside him on the back in a familiar manner. "Raven team is a blessing," he said happily. "They've helped fix up a bunch of stuff around the place, and they've solved pretty much every challenge I put in front of them. Lord Adder here was just telling me about their idea for a clothing drive for the little ones."

I turned to Adder with a smile. "Oh? That sounds like a fantastic idea."

Before this, I was never really sure what color his eyes were, since I only ever saw him from a distance. All I could say was that they were dark. Maybe a deep brown. But this close, I could finally see that they were a blue-violet shade so dark that they were almost black. The planes of his handsome face were sharp-edged, and he didn't seem to have any visible animal features, the way most highborn fae did. His expression was cool and as shuttered as always.

"Mistress." Slender fangs flashed as he greeted me. Apparently, he did have some animal features after all. They were just more subtle than some of the others. His deep voice was cool, but pleasant, and he had the faintest sibilant lisp at the end of some of his words, probably because of the fangs. "My teammates have told me about you,” he said evenly. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

I tried not to flinch at his words. My first instinct was to wonder just what his teammates had told him about me. After all, I had let one of them fuck me senseless before the tournament started. And I had done nothing but ask prying questions of the other two. But I pushed my fears away. Bach said he wouldn't tell anyone what had happened between us, and he was a man of his word. I knew just enough about him to know he was someone who took things like honor and morality seriously. He wouldn't go bragging and telling tales. And Fife and Mirri both seemed kind. I doubted they were all sitting around the tent at night gossiping about the gossip girl who reported to the queen.

"I've been wanting to speak with you for a while now, but it seems there's always some barrier," I admitted honestly. "I'm happy to meet you, Lord Adder."

Mr. Warbler patted my arm and gestured back at the massive manor that housed the orphanage. "I need to pop back inside before they run amok. But you're welcome to come in and have some tea, miss Rina."

I waved off his fussing. "No need to inconvenience anyone. I'm sure everyone has enough to do around here without waiting on me hand and foot. Go. Maybe Lord Adder will be kind enough to show me around the grounds and chat for a moment? Then I'll be out of your hair."

The kindly director hurried off to tend to his flock, and I found myself standing alone in the yard with Adder. Or nearly alone. His eyes slid to my guards, and he arched a brow. "Are they part of the tour?"

I sighed at his rather pointed question and turned to speak to Currant. "I won't be leaving the grounds, so you're free to wait here or maybe occupy one of the benches for a bit." I gestured to a seat that was positioned a few feet away by a wooden play structure. "I won't be long."

Chapter 19

My guards reluctantly agreed to take a load off while I walked with Adder around the perimeter of the pretty yard. "Does a causerie usually have guards everywhere she goes?" The tall, broad-shouldered highborn asked as he quietly stalked at my side. "Or is that a recent development?"

I considered my response. He wouldn't be able to think about it too hard, thanks to the queen's secrecy spell. But I had a feeling that if anyone was going to immediately figure out who I was and what I was doing here, it would be this man. There was something sharp about him, like a silent predator lying in wait. I had the sudden vision of a viper lying coiled in the brush, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. I shook it off. I was certainly in a strange mood today.

"I'm usually more than capable of getting where I need to go without an escort," I admitted. "But given how badly people want to know the identity of the Prize, the officials have deemed the guard necessary."

He tilted his head again, and the light glinted on his silvery hair. It was cut a bit shorter in the back, with longer tips that reached his collarbones in the front. As angular and sharp as the rest of him. "So, it's only a precaution, then," he murmured. "Not because of any specific…incident?"

I glanced over at him in surprise. "No. Nothing specific. What are you getting at?” Then I caught up. “Wait…is this because of whatever has been going on with the competitors? Has something else happened that I don’t know about?"

He drew to a halt near a large, shallow fountain with a statue of a dog in its center. It must be a perfect place for the kids to splash around on a hot summer day. "I was simply curious how far the dangers of this tournament had spread," he said evenly. "It would be upsetting to think that even a harmless gossip in the employ of the queen might be in danger. It is only a silly little competition, after all."

I sighed. A harmless gossip, was I? But then again, that was the role I was currently playing. I should be happy that he saw nothing more interesting about me. "I agree with you. As do the royals. And the Prize. It is just a competition. And the idea that the competitors seem willing to endanger each other to win is appalling."

He shrugged one broad shoulder. This fae was tall and muscular, but not quite as stout as Bach. He had more grace and leanness to him, and a sense of hidden strength in his movements—like that coiled snake I had imagined earlier—just waiting to spring. "Is it really all that appalling?" He drawled in response to my statement, his deep voice wry. "Maybe your employer and their Prize don’t fully understand the nature of people, or of politics and competitions, if they are so surprised."

The gall of him. To suggest, even in jest, that the royals might be so empty-headed. I gaped at him for a second before I snapped my mouth shut. "That's—"

"Brutally honest?" he said with the tiniest hint of a smirk lifting one corner of his chiseled lips. "I've been told I'm not the best conversationalist, I'm afraid. I can only hope the Prize values truth over pretty words and niceties. Besides," he said with a shrug. “I only said ‘if’. I’d like to believe our rulers have lived and prospered as long as they have because they have more sense than that.”

---