36. Bastian
Bastian
T he night after the party, I caught up with Kat and she told me what she’d discovered about her necklace, though she refused to reveal how she’d come upon this information.
Lucius had sent unCavendish to Lunden. After me, perhaps. To ruin the alliance with Albion, certainly.
He was responsible for that man touching Kat, for placing poison in her hands, and for forcing her into a position where she had to take it or risk war that would’ve been disastrous for both our countries.
It had crushed me when she’d asked, “Now what?” Like there was something we could do about a king’s machinations.
I’d hated myself for replying, “Now nothing. We can’t act against him.”
We couldn’t. Without Braea’s approval, the main thing I could do at the moment was be vigilant… and give Dawn a reminder of my presence and power.
The next day, I had a meeting lined up with a visiting merchant who dealt in antiquities and rare books. I could make some veiled enquiries about the Circle of Ash, see if they had any texts that might be useful.
I could’ve had them meet me in the palace, but this was a perfect opportunity to deliver that reminder. So, shadows on full display, seething around me, I made for the grand hall.
Busy. That was good—perfect, in fact.
I strode through when a stir amongst the courtiers caught my attention. They whispered, and I followed their sidelong glances to that rarest of things amongst the fae—red hair. Not Kat’s—this hair was streaked with cream.
Tall and well-built, Prince Sepher prowled through the pillared entrance hall with all the grace I’d expect of a sabrecat.
What the hells brought him here? His tail swished behind him as he walked, so he hadn’t rid himself of that.
My spies said a curse stopped him adopting a fully fae form and hiding the fact he was a shapechanger.
Hence his exile to the ruined palace outside the city. So what had made him break that exile?
Worked well for me. He could deliver a reminder of my presence directly to his father.
Eyelids half-closed, smirk in place, I strolled over. “Sepher.”
Chin tilting up, he stopped and cast a disapproving glance over me. His yellow eyes and slitted pupils might’ve unnerved me if I hadn’t been used to dealing with Orpha. “Ah, Serpent. I wondered what that smell was. Thought it stank of betrayal over here.”
I chuckled like he was as witty as he so clearly believed. “Not presiding over your little Court of Monsters?”
“Obviously not, since I’m here, aren’t I? I thought you were meant to be a spymaster.” He rolled his eyes and started past me. “I’ve come to see my parents.”
“Telling them about the human woman you’ve been terrorising or just taking the chance to see dear ma and pa?”
The way he stopped mid-stride and turned on the spot flushed me with pleasure. Sparring with Sepher was petty, but the irritation weighing on me made me petty. So did the Day Princes.
“Huh. Well done, Serpent. A spy at my court or…?” He narrowed his feline eyes at me, more evaluative this time as he cocked his head.
“You know I can’t possibly reveal my sources. Though it’s good to have it confirmed—and from the horse’s mouth no less. Or should that be the sabrecat’s?” I nodded down at his swishing tail, and my shadows flicked in its direction. “By the way, your tail is showing.”
He bared his teeth as he chuckled. “I assume that isn’t an innuendo but a display of your masterful perceptive skills. Yes, my tail is showing, as are my claws.” He examined them like someone might examine their fingernails. “Perhaps you’d like a demonstration.”
“Only if I get to demonstrate my shadows. They’ve been waiting years for a chance to say hello to you.” They rustled at the hem of my trousers, a reminder that as ethereal as they appeared, they had form and could touch… and tear.
His brother had held me down and told Sepher to hit me to “teach him how it feels to master the small folk.” My shadows could hold Sepher while I taught him a lesson with my knuckles.
He made a soft, dismissive sound. “Tell me Bastian, why pay such close attention to little old me? Sounds a bit obsessive. Is it because I never went up to that hayloft with you like most of our classmates?”
“You should get your memory checked, Sepher. You were never invited. We both know if you had been, you would’ve gone, even if just out of curiosity.”
He eyed my shadows sidelong. “Perhaps. Freaks together. Unfortunately for you, I’ve come to deliver the news that I’m no longer available, however obsessed you might be. That human has agreed to marry me.”
For a fraction of a second, I held very still. What? Then I laughed as if amused by the idea and not shocked. Maybe obsession was on Sepher’s mind, and he was merely projecting on me: my spy had intimated that he seemed fascinated with the human woman, enjoying her punishment.
“Don’t tell me, you gave her an option between marking her as yours with the collar or with a wedding ring. Not sure that’s much of a choice.”
His nostrils flared and he leant closer, crowding my space. “She chose me freely.” A growl laced his words.
But I’d had years of dealing with an angry shapechanger several inches taller than me.
I didn’t back away and instead smiled wider.
“Then let me be the first to extend Dusk’s congratulations.
I look forward to helping the rest of the Convocation with the royal wedding preparations.
” And I did, even if it was just to see his shoulders sink as he realised that, as the Night Queen’s representative during daylight hours, I would indeed be involved.
“You’re too kind.” With a low sound, he nodded and swept towards the door to Dawn’s side of the palace.
Prince Sepher marrying a human. I stared after him for a beat.
Shock aside, Braea wasn’t going to like this. Dawn would be a step closer to another heir in their line of succession—Cyrus, then Sepher, then any child from Sepher’s marriage.
While she had nothing.