Chapter Eighteen
The Guardians weren’t leaving.
That was the conclusion Ciaran had come to.
He’d spent several days watching Aphrodite’s Feast, those coming and going.
He’d even seen his own daughter return in the company of several heavily armed knights who weren’t The Guardians.
So many comings and goings, and none of them involved The Guardians actually leaving their posts.
Time was ticking away.
At that point, Ciaran was trying not to panic.
Although there had been no actual timeline on the missive King Dagda would send to Aphrodite’s Feast, he had mentioned seven days.
Those seven days had come and gone, so Ciaran was at the point of wondering if he shouldn’t simply work the situation out for himself, get the money, and run.
But there were still the little matter of The Guardians.
The truth was that he knew the schedule of the commander of The Guardians, the man who called himself Zeus.
Zeus was as vigilant as a watchdog, remaining up all night long and well into the morning before he took a rest. Truth be told, Zeus was the only one that Ciaran really worried about.
He’d been the one to throw him out when he and his daughter had gotten into a physical altercation, so Zeus was well aware of his threat to Desdra.
But unless he passed that concern on to the men under his command, no one would question Ciaran’s visit to his daughter.
The more Ciaran thought about that, the more he realized that was the path he was going to have to take.
If King Dagda wasn’t going to send that missive, it didn’t mean the man didn’t want his money.
Perhaps he was testing Ciaran.
Perhaps he was looking for a reason to take everything he had, property included.
In any case, Ciaran was starting to feel betrayed. He was also beginning to suspect why King Dagda had been so agreeable to this rather elaborate plan. Perhaps the man was simply being agreeable so he could go back on his word in the end and then blame Ciaran for failing to secure the money.
Well, that wasn’t going to happen.
Ciaran was going to get inside Aphrodite’s Feast and he was going to get the money that he knew his daughter had access to.
It infuriated him that she wasn’t more forthcoming when it came to giving over her wages to her father, who was not only entitled to them, but was also in serious trouble.
Why couldn’t she see that? The truth was that Desdra’s reasons didn’t matter to him.
She was going to give him what he wanted.
Any way he could get it.
Several days after his discussion with King Dagda, Ciaran finally left the abandoned cottage he had been sleeping in and made his way to the west side of town, where Aphrodite’s Feast sat along the river in all its glory.
It was a clear day, with puffy clouds dancing across the sky in rhythm with the breeze that flowed inward from the sea.
Birds flew overhead, congregating in the trees, but also wandering around in the gutters looking for something to eat.
It was just after the nooning hour as Ciaran made his way up the walkway to the front entrance of Aphrodite’s Feast.
Now, it would begin.
“I am Desdra le Daire’s father,” he said to the young, muscular man at the door. “I have come to visit her.”
Another Guardian stepped out from the shadows.
The movement startled Ciaran, and he looked up to see a Guardian he recognized.
The man called himself Heracles and had been at The Feast for a few years.
Long enough to know Ciaran and who he was and probably long enough to know that, in the past, he’d caused some trouble.
Ciaran held his breath as Heracles looked him over before finally allowing him admission into the foyer.
“Does Desdra know you’re coming?” Heracles asked.
That told Ciaran that Heracles might not be aware of what had happened several days ago. If he were, he might not have admitted him so easily.
“Nay,” Ciaran said. “We… we argued the last time we saw one another and I’ve come to apologize. I am afraid that if you announce me, she might turn me away.”
Heracles frowned. “Then I cannot admit you further.”
“Please,” Ciaran said with the appropriate amount of remorse. “I only want to apologize. You can listen at the door if you wish. I present no threat, I swear it. I only want a private moment with my daughter to apologize for my behavior.”
“And if she does not accept your apology? Will you harass her?”
Ciaran looked both puzzled and insulted. “Nay,” he said. “But I must see my daughter. Do you have a daughter, Heracles?”
“I do not.”
“Then, mayhap, you do not understand my desire, as a father, to speak with my child.”
He was begging by now. Heracles wasn’t convinced, but Ciaran seemed repentant enough.
He did, in fact, know that Ciaran had been run out of Aphrodite’s Feast several days ago, but he was walking a fine line.
He didn’t want to come between a father and his daughter, and it wasn’t his job to make a judgment call like that.
Only Zeus or Desdra could really do that, and, frankly, he didn’t want the responsibility.
Family relationships could be so, so touchy and he didn’t want to get in the middle of one. Still, he didn’t like Ciaran.
None of them did.
Irritated, he simply waved him on.
“Go,” he said. “But only for a few moments. Then you must leave.”
Ciaran nodded quickly. “Thank you.”
“But I will be listening.”
There was a threat in that. It gave Ciaran a moment of pause, but it was brief. He counted himself extremely fortunate that he’d even made it inside. Extremely. Zeus was sleeping, but Heracles was just as vigilant. Ciaran was going to have to plan his next move carefully.
Very carefully.
Nervously, he made his way up the stairs that led to the level where the solar was.
It was quiet on this level, as there were only a few chambers up here, including servants’ chambers. Quietly, he made his way to the solar door, peeking his head inside only to immediately spy his daughter seated at the table with her back to the door, writing in a ledger.
The perfect victim.
Silently, he stepped inside and shut the door behind him, very carefully bolting it. It made a noise, something Desdra heard.
“I’ll be finished in a moment,” she said. “Can you please send word to Sir Orion that I will relieve him at Jareth’s bedside?”
Ciaran froze. She must have thought he was a servant, or she was expecting a servant, so he knew he had to act quickly before she turned around and saw him. Rushing over to the table, he grabbed her from behind.
After that, it was chaos.