Chapter 19 #2
“Something of the sort,” Gerard agreed easily.
Was Oberon, he wondered, even aware of the Serafin Empire’s existence?
Led by Otto II’s grandfather, it had devoured most of the continent’s individual kingdoms decades before Gerard’s own birth—but of course, the other man, despite his youthful appearance, was immortal and clearly considered human cultures unworthy of his attention.
Gerard made a careful mental note of that weakness, in case it should prove useful in the future.
“Well, then.” Oberon’s smile broadened. “You may inform your ruler that I chose to help you as a gesture of renewed friendship from Efaelen.”
Gerard’s eyebrows twitched upwards. “And are you now authorized to speak for the Queen of Efaelen in all things, not only this tournament?”
The angry flare of the other man’s eyes was an answer in itself.
“We haven’t time to quibble over details,” Oberon snarled, “and you wouldn’t understand them anyway.
Just hear me, soldier, when I say to you in truth: Regardless of any other bargains you’ve sworn, if you only hold out your hand to me now, I vow to the trees and rivers that I shall deliver you, safe and sound, back to your mortal realm, free to return to your own petty concerns.
All you need do is take my hand in agreement, and this long and perilous dream of yours will be ended. ”
“All you need do is take my hand in agreement…”
Lorelei was already fully cloaked in illusion, invisible and inaudible to Oberon and Gerard. Still, her breath instinctively stopped in her throat at Oberon’s offer, as if her body itself, lanced by shock, feared giving her away to the two men who stood only a few feet away from her.
She had followed them from the moment she’d first seen Oberon lead Gerard from the field, but she’d done it with the pure intention of protecting her partner.
She’d known Oberon must be up to some new, malicious scheme; she’d feared what he might do to her partner to harm her …
and yet, it still hadn’t hit her until this moment what Oberon could offer Gerard, instead, to steal him from her.
Curses, she knew she should have taken the time to hammer out a better bargain with her new partner yesterday!
True, he had sworn to fight by her side in every trial he was called to—but he couldn’t be called to any of them from the mortal realm, so Oberon’s bargain would count him free from their agreement.
At the time, she’d let that loophole go unfilled rather than risk him noticing the even larger loophole he’d left her in return …
when he’d failed to insist that she return him to the mortal realm alive, unharmed, or even freed from her captivity.
Unlike the fae, humans weren’t trained to gauge every word in the bargains that they swore, with no magic to act as a firm binding.
So, she’d judged it a risk worth taking, as he couldn’t leave the realm without her anyway …
But of course Oberon could transport him between the mortal and fae realms with ease.
Anyone with fae blood could do it, apart from Lorelei’s own contractually bound mother.
Even more persuasively, Oberon would have to do it without pulling any nasty tricks along the way, to fulfil that binding vow he’d just spoken.
And when Gerard did abandon her …
Unlike any of the other men she’d trusted, he wouldn’t even consider it a betrayal.
Blinded by her own dazzlement, had Lorelei actually forgotten that he still considered himself her prisoner?
Of course he would leap at the chance to return to his ordinary life, blindly serving the emperor she hated and trampling over everything she loved!
Once he was safely returned to his Imperial home, he would probably never sleep again without cold iron lining his bed to guard against her entry.
After this, she would only ever see him on the opposite side of a bloody battlefield, forced to either kill him or be killed herself.
He would never again fight by her side or hold her or kiss her as if …
Gerard spoke over her spiraling thoughts, his tone as mild as if he were discussing the fucking autumn weather instead of his entire future and hers, as well. “A generous offer indeed, my lord, but I won’t trouble you to fulfil it.”
“What?” Oberon’s mouth dropped as both he and—invisibly—Lorelei gaped at Gerard in joint astonishment.
“Was I unclear?” Gerard rolled his big shoulders in an indifferent shrug. “Much as I appreciate the offer, I’ve already committed to fighting this tournament at my partner’s side. I may be a mere mortal, but I do not break my vows, Lord Oberon.”
Oh, gods … Lorelei stuffed her right fist into her mouth to hold back what felt uncomfortably like a sob as tremors of relief rocked through her body.
Of course. The magic of her bargain might not bind him, but his rigid sense of duty had kicked in, despite every other contradictory concern.
It was everything that she both hated and loved about—
No. No love was involved in her feelings for the Golden Beacon.
It was just so very him.
“However,” Gerard continued, “as we’re speaking of fae magic …
a moment ago, I seem to recall you accusing Queen Lorelei of using enchantments to take away my good sense, which brought up an interesting question.
May I ask whether her mother, your queen, knew of your own attempt to make a similar assault on Lorelei by means of an illicit potion? ”
Lorelei abruptly stiffened. Oh, Sylvana … She didn’t want to hear the answer to that question.
She’d never told her mother herself, but Morgana had eyes and ears everywhere in Efaelen’s court. Lorelei couldn’t bear to see Gerard’s reaction when he learned how little her own mother cared for her welfare anymore.
However, it was Oberon’s face that blotched with color. “I am the chosen proxy for Queen Morgana at this tournament!”
“Which doesn’t answer my question,” Gerard observed, “but it does bring up another issue I’ve wondered about ever since your status was first announced to us.
You’ve been intriguingly careful with your phrasing every time you’ve stated that you were chosen …
but you’ve never said by whom. Did Queen Morgana herself actually choose you? Or was it someone else entirely?”
Oh … Lorelei leaned closer, her skin prickling with new tension and an excruciatingly painful, childish hope.
If her mother hadn’t really chosen to treat Oberon as her favored successor, after everything he’d done …
Oberon’s gaze flicked rapidly back and forth around Gerard’s big figure, as if searching for any helpful distractions on the empty field around them.
Apparently failing in that quest, he stepped back, his thin nostrils flaring in a sneer. “Enough questions! You’ve made your own choice, soldier, so you’ll endure mine in return. Before tomorrow’s games are over, I wager you’ll wish you’d been wise enough to take my offered friendship.”
Oberon shook his head in bitter condemnation. “Enjoy your final evening of celebration, mortal. You will not have another one.”