Chapter Six #4
“I should’ve done that years ago,” Dad agreed.
“I need to nip this in the bud before we decide to retire and Dearg has to play tyrant to get these fools back in line.” He turned to Iona, who still looked as if she was battling a panic attack.
He gave her a smile warm enough to make her blink and relax.
“I owe you a debt for coming to my son’s defense.
Should have squashed that behavior a long time ago, but I didn’t want to undercut Dearg. ”
Iona blinked at him, as if only just realizing she hadn’t humiliated herself -- and me.
“I mean it, child,” he said, his voice softening even more.
“You have nothing to worry about. How could I object to a woman defending my beloved son?” He hesitated, as if judging her mental state, then flicked a hand.
A dimensional gate opened in a whirl of magic.
“Better get back home before that assassin kills anyone else.”
Iona nodded shakily, then turned away and walked toward the portal.
As I started after her, my mother clamped a hand over my shoulder. “Grandchildren. I’m serious -- don’t let her get away. I always wanted a daughter-in-law with firepower instead of those weak-kneed court twits.”
Despite myself, I laughed as I followed Iona through the portal.
* * *
Iona
I crossed the gate into my living room, vaguely aware that Dearg followed me. Falling on the couch hard enough to bounce, I buried my face in my hands. “Oh my God! I can’t believe I did that. Your parents think I’m a lunatic!”
When I glanced up, he only appeared pleased instead of outraged by my display of temper. “Actually, Mom told me to marry you.”
I glowered, irritated that he was making light of my mortification. “That was sarcasm, right?”
“When Mother’s being sarcastic, you don’t have to ask.”
He’s being comforting again. I rubbed my hands across my face and returned to the subject. “That asshole lieutenant called you a dog. And I thought, ‘My God, this is why he’s the way he is.’”
“Which way is that?” He no longer sounded amused, and his face had gone expressionless.
Maeve’s Forge, what did I do to piss him off? “He told me that I deserved better than to have a ‘dog’” -- I sketched air quotes --”as my guard instead of him and his happy little crew of fairies.”
“Yeah, that sounds typical of courtiers when they think I can’t hear them. But that doesn’t explain the ‘why you are what you are’ comment.”
Yep, he’s pissed. This is about to blow up into a fight. Just what I did not need. “I meant this is why you had to fight duels with those pricks when you were barely old enough to shave. What kind of grown-ass immortal challenges a sixteen-year-old boy?”
He didn’t look mollified. “One who doesn’t want the boy to grow up to be king.”
“Because you’re a werewolf?” I snorted, thoroughly sick of Sidhe bullshit.
“I have worked with dozens of werewolves over my career, and every last one of them was driven by the need to protect people. Merlin literally designed you that way. Which is more than I can say for the motherfucking Sidhe.” I huffed out a breath.
“Every noble I met in Mom’s court was a bully and worse.
After Mom killed my dad, I knew no one in her harem would give a shit if I was murdered in front of them.
I wouldn’t even be here now if it weren’t for Conal Donovan getting word to my grandmother.
Siobhan would have killed him and his sisters for that. ”
“Brave man,” Dearg said quietly.
“Yes, he is.” I sighed. “Well, at least I gave your dad the excuse to kick some fairy butt that desperately needed it.”
“You did a pretty good job yourself,” he said, his voice low.
He stepped closer, smiling down into my eyes.
“Thank you for standing up for me.” One strong hand smoothed my hair, still disordered from the windstorm my anger had triggered.
“Sometimes I think I’ll never win the court’s respect.
To them, I’ll always be the King’s Dog, no matter how well I fight, what crucial secrets I bring home to make the kingdom safer, or what criminals, spies, or traitors I kill.
I’m not sure I’ll even be able to hang on to my family’s throne. ”
I frowned, disliking the bitter resignation in his voice. “Bullshit. They’re ignorant bigots, and it won’t take them long to realize you do belong on that throne. And if they try to stop you, you’ll take care of them.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile. “I’ll admit, I’ve been seriously tempted to prove the point to every last one of them. Unfortunately, I can’t kill my way to respect.”
“You won’t have to. Everybody but a few opportunistic aristocrats would quickly realize Cachamwri didn’t make you his Blade because your ass looks good in tights. You’re every bit as heroic as Robion the Slayer of Beithir.”
To my delight, a tint of pink colored his wide cheekbones. “I’ve killed my share of monsters, but none of them was a 60,000-pound Great Wyrm. That thing would have dwarfed the mayor. Anyway, I don’t think ‘heroic’ was Cachamwri’s main criteria. ‘Muscle and mean’ are probably closer to it.”
“Oh, give it a rest. You are not just muscle.”
“Mean, though.”
“You’re a werewolf. Mean goes with the job description.” I eyed him. “Did those idiots actually convince you you’re a dog?”
He looked offended. “Of course not.”
“Good, because you’re starting to piss me off.
Since the first Galatyn, there have been only a handful of Blades, and they’re always the most remarkable people among a remarkable group -- the Heirs to Heroes.
Blades -- not spoiled lordlings -- are the ones they write legends and sing ballads about.
The bigots are going to remain bigots until they’re forced to admit you are far more than they like to pretend you are.
Every time you go out with Dragon’s Breath spitting sparks and come back with your mission accomplished, they secretly grind their teeth in rage. ”
“And that little speech is exactly why my mother wants you for her daughter-in-law.”
I stared at him as it slowly penetrated that he hadn’t been kidding with his earlier comment. “Oh my God, are you serious?”
Apparently, he interpreted my incredulity at having a different cause than it did. He stiffened a little and took a half step back. “I realize I’m not a demigod but --”
“Oh, for Maeve’s sake, don’t even start.” I reached up and hooked both hands around the back of his neck, then dragged him into a kiss as hot as I could make it. It must’ve worked, because he slid his arms around me and lifted me to my feet.
Which was definitely one way to change the subject.