2. The Holly King’s Treat
Chapter 2
The Holly King’s Treat
LUCA
“ G et her back,” I tell my twin.
He groans and rolls over in his bed. He only got in two hours ago, as dawn broke on one of the shortest days of the year. He took a bath to get rid of the ice stuck between his toes and climbed into bed. I don’t think he’s eaten all day.
He clutches at the white bandage wrapped around his ribs and groans again. “Does it seem like I’m not doing enough? I don’t see you sitting in the Mother-blighted snow for hours while she ignores you.”
“If she’s ignoring you, then no, you’re not doing enough,” my boyfriend observes.
Law groans a third time and pulls a blanket over his head.
Rhodes offers me a coffee cup from the tray perched over his lap. He’s in my bed—where he belongs—while Law’s in his own bed across the room. Where Law won’t listen to anyone and disappears for whole days even though he’s supposed to be on bed rest while he recovers from a collapsed lung and losing ridiculous amounts of blood, Rhodes is taking his recovery seriously. He’s been up to stretch and take short walks. Otherwise, he’s been in my bed, resting and recovering.
Well, mostly resting. But we’ve been careful not to do anything too strenuous while he heals.
I sip my coffee and give my twin the hairy eyeball. “Law?”
He sticks his fist out of the covers, his middle finger extended.
“Fuck you too. Now tell us the plan.”
“What plan?” he groans.
“To get her fucking back,” Rhodes snarls at him. “One minute she was telling me she loved me so much she’d returned from true death to fight beside me and the next minute she was calling me an adolescent and telling me to go back to school. I’m still hazy on what the fuck happened between those two events, but this I do know, Law. It’s your fucking fault.”
Law’s wrist rotates until his middle finger is pointed at Rhodes.
“You’re an asshole, Law,” Rhodes snaps. “You deserve every damn thing she does to you.”
“Pot. Kettle. Black,” Law growls back at my boyfriend, without lowering his finger or emerging from under the blankets. “You lied to her just as much as I did.”
“No, Law. I never pretended to be her fucking pet.”
“That is the thing that made her so upset she puked,” I point out helpfully.
Law sticks his other fist out of the blankets, his middle finger extended at me.
“Uh-huh,” I sneer at my twin. “So, plan?”
“I have no plan. I have no fucking idea what to do,” Law groans.
“So, you’re just sitting in the snow outside her window until what? You wear her down? Your balls freeze off? What?”
“You won’t wear her down,” Rhodes says. “Kellan holds grudges on an epic level. Look how she’s still avoiding her sister and her ex, years later. That’s not the way to win her back. We need a plan?—”
Rhodes breaks off when my sister Aine opens the bedroom door.
“Knock,” I reprimand her gently. “Rhodes is a guest.”
She’s paler than usual, her eyes too big for her face. “You all need to get dressed,” she whispers. “Court clothes. The Holly King is here.”
“The Holly King?” Law sits up, pushing off the blankets.
Aine nods. “He’s in with Dad. He’s asked to see the three of you.”
Law climbs out of bed, clutching his side, flapping his hand at me. “Get dressed.”
I look at Rhodes. “Stay in bed.”
“The Holly King asked to see me, Lu. Is it a good idea to just ignore him?”
“I don’t know. But what I do know is that the healers haven’t released you from bed rest yet, so if the Holly King wants to see you, he can walk his ass down the hallway. Your recovery is more important than anything else. You were dead , Rho. I may never fucking recover from holding your dead body. So, if the healers tell you to stay in bed, I will make sure you stay in bed.”
Rhodes mutters something that sounds like “world’s toppiest bottom.” But he stays in bed.
Court clothes for high fae involve lots of silk and sequins. We’re Cait. Law and I pull on leather pants and prowl into Dad’s audience hall. Law’s prowl is a little stilted.
The Holly King’s sitting in a comfortable chair around the table my parents use for meetings. His knight and lover, An Ròs Airgid, stands a step behind his king and slightly to the side to avoid the prongs of the Holly King’s horns. The Holly King’s in the predictable silk: layers of crimson, white, and gold. No sequins, but still. His rose is wearing full armor in gleaming white and gold, with a huge sword sheathed over his back. The audience hall is lit by winter sunshine from the big windows on two sides; the light caresses the two high fae. They don’t quite sparkle, but it’s close. High fae fuckers.
The Holly King looks from Law to me as we flank our parents. His eyes are a deep green today; his hair’s silver-blond, falling in waves to his shoulders. His eyes and hair were blood red at Kellan’s V.I.P. reception, I’m positive. I didn’t know he could change his appearance. Something to remember.
“Sons of the Cait,” he says. “Thank you for seeing me.” He tips his head at the closed door. “I’d understood there was a third?”
“Rhodes Hale,” I say. “He’s on bed rest. I’ll take any message to him.”
The Holly King taps a long finger to his lips. “Very well. I’ve come to treat with you over the hand of Kellan Wyndham.”
I glance at Law to see if he’s going to flip his shit.
“Treat with us?” he growls.
Not quite losing his shit. Not yet. But not far off, either.
“I intend to court her,” the Holly King says. “I’m aware you have already been doing so. I’m also aware of your recent estrangement. I thought it courteous to give you notice of my intentions.”
“Thank you—” Dad begins.
“We’re her fated mates ,” Law growls. Here it comes.
“Does she feel the bond?” the Holly King asks, his tone mild. Like Law’s not a hair away from shit-flipping.
“I’d understood you were—” I pause and give the Holly King’s knight and acknowledged lover the once-over. “Involved.”
“As are you with young Master Hale, or so I’m told,” the Holly King responds. “I’m encouraged that Professor Wyndham is open to non-traditional pairings.” He reaches over his shoulder and his knight takes his hand. “I could not give up my rose.”
“Neither of you is her fated mate,” I point out. “What makes you think she won’t dismiss you outright?”
“I’ve never heard of a cyhraeth having a fated mate,” the Holly King responds. “You may feel a bond. But does she? If I’m wrong, she merely has to tell me. I don’t think she will.” He untangles his fingers from his knight’s and leans forward in his chair. “I want to ensure that the Cait take no offense to my suit.”
Law’s growl rises, making every hair on my body stand up. It cuts off when Dad reaches out and grabs Law’s forearm.
“Lawson, hear what the Holly King has to say,” Dad warns.
“I think we both heard him loud and clear,” I say. “He wants to claim-jump our fated mate. Pretty sure I speak for both of us when I say, I take offense.”
The Holly King sits back, steepling his fingers and tapping them against his lip. “Why, Lucas? I’ve offered no insult. My suit doesn’t necessarily exclude yours. Five consorts is unusual but not unheard of for a queen of Faery.”
“I go by Luca,” I tell him. “And you’re really telling me you’d let two lowly Cait and a human share your queen? I call bullshit.”
“Luca,” Mom hisses.
“No, Luca’s right,” Law says. “This is bullshit. I don’t believe for a minute you intend to share Kellan with us. This is your way of avoiding a war with the Cait Teulu . But I don’t need my warriors at my back for this. I’m happy to keep it between us. You want to treat with us, fine, here are my terms: you never meet with Kellan alone. I don’t trust you with her. Luca or I will be there any time you have contact with Kellan.”
“Or the human, I assume, Master Hale?” the Holly King probes.
Fuck, he’s fast to sense a weakness.
“Rhodes is on bed rest. Once he’s better, of course, him too,” Law responds.
No one covers like my brother.
“Very well,” the Holly King says. “I agree to your terms.”
Law glances at me. It’s not the first time I’ve wished we could speak into each other’s minds while we’re in our skins; it probably won’t be the last. But it might be the most important.
I nod. I can’t see the catch. I don’t understand the Holly King’s motivation in pursuing Kellan. He could have literally any high fae he wanted. Yes, she’s already powerful and has huge potential, but no more so than one of the great lords or ladies of Ivywhile or Thistlemist. Hells, he could have the Thistlemist prince if he wanted; Callan’s single.
I also don’t understand his motivation in coming here and “treating” with us. Yes, the Cait outnumber the Darkswerds and other high fae knights, but there are plenty of high fae, like the Dùbhghlas family or the Storm Lady of Ashegold, who aren’t warriors per se yet could kill dozens of Cait without thinking too hard about it.
What’s more, there’s no way Dad would order an attack on the high fae. Not even over something as egregious as stealing our fated mate. All of the wild fae avoid direct confrontations with the high fae; Dad’s been doing it all his life.
Law crosses his arms over his chest. “If Kellan tells you no , you’ll leave her alone. No repercussions.”
“Agreed,” the Holly King says, his tone light and easy.
Why is he being so agreeable? He’s on our turf, encroaching on our mate, but he has the power here. He must know that.
“When do you plan to, uh, court Kellan?” I ask.
“I understand she’s spending Hogmanay at Thistlemist with Clan Dùbhghlas. Princess Theodora’s holding a ball. I intend to attend.”
“Law and I aren’t welcome at Thistlemist,” I point out.
“Will Master Hale be well enough by then?”
Hogmanay’s two days away, on the last day of Yule, New Year’s Eve. Rho might be up and around by then but fuck if I’m letting him go into a nest of the high fae on his own, particularly when he’s barely recovered from dying .
“No,” I say.
“That complicates abiding by your conditions,” says the Holly King. “However, Callan Dùbhghlas owes me a favor. If I can arrange invitations for the two of you, would you attend Princess Theodora’s ball? You’d need to be masked and under no circumstances could you reveal yourselves as Cait.”
I glance at Law. Even though he still looks like he’s a whisker away from exploding into his Cait form and trying to eat the Holly King’s head the way he did that Mirk Rider, he nods.
“Yes,” I agree.
The Holly King gives me a once-over only slightly less pointed than the one I gave his lover. “I understand you’re quite a scholar, Luca.”
I shrug. It’s true, but it’s also a little grating. People have always pigeonholed us. Law’s the warrior. I’m the academic. Never mind that Law’s such a tool that he has enough credits to graduate from Bevvy mid-year. Or that I killed just as many barghests in the battle at Jedburgh Abbey. They see twins and they have to differentiate us some way. Even Caileán does it, although it grates less when it’s from her.
“If you’re not otherwise occupied, perhaps you’d accompany me back to Ivywhile?” the Holly King asks. “If I recall, your brother requested access to the Silver Oak Library so you could research the Crow Queens. I have an interest in the results of that research. I’d be pleased if you’d be my guest today while I arrange your invitations. You can bring the invitations back with you tonight if I’m successful.”
“Me, not me and Law?” I respond.
The Holly King cuts that green gaze at my brother. “Forgive me for saying so, but Master Hale isn’t the only one in need of rest.”
Law lifts his upper lip to show his fangs, but he doesn’t respond. Probably because what the Holly King’s saying is true. Law should be in bed.
“Okay, I’ll come. Let me throw on a shirt.”
“We’ll be happy to provide you with suitable clothes,” the Holly King’s knight says, speaking for the first time.
“I need my laptop, too,” I tell him. Mine is specially warded to work even in Faery, where technology rarely gets along well with magic.
“We’ll provide you with everything you need,” the knight says, his eyes gleaming in the darkness of his helmet.
Which is their way of saying they’ll get my research notes, and I won’t be able to withhold anything I find.
But I have a fucking photographic memory and taking notes is more of a convenience than anything else. So I say, “Sure. Let’s go. Law, please tell Rho I’ll be back in time for dinner. Call me if anyone needs anything.”
I pat my back pocket. No matter what I’m wearing, I always have at least one phone on me.
I never know when Kellan might call.