Chapter 10
GIDEON
I study the dark paintings in the hallway, moving from shipwreck to shipwreck, as I shamelessly eavesdrop on Isabel’s conversation with her father.
I’m pleased that the human male doesn’t plan to barge into the hallway and challenge me to a fight.
I wouldn’t harm him, but I don’t think Isabel would appreciate my way of dealing with him.
If he attacked me, I would simply glamour him into a temporary state of despondency before whisking Isabel away.
Voices start drifting upstairs and plates clatter below.
It would seem the proprietor and his servants are finally awake.
The scent of frying ham soon permeates the air.
I remain in the hallway, waiting for Isabel, trying to summon patience.
A nearby door opens and an elderly couple emerges.
They spare me a fleeting glance before heading downstairs.
To them, I’m naught but an ordinary human man.
I continue listening in as Isabel bids a tearful goodbye to her father. A strange, tight sensation grips my chest, and I press a hand over my heart.
Grief. It feels like grief. And it takes me far too long to realize that it’s Isabel’s emotions I’m experiencing.
Gods be good, the mating bond is starting to manifest. Even though we haven’t consummated our union yet, I find I’m able to sense her emotions for the very first time. I only wish it weren’t such a negative collection of emotions. Sadness, grief, and despair.
Frustration spreads through me, as well as a burst of anger, quickly followed by heaps of guilt.
But these emotions are mine, not Isabel’s.
I actually feel guilty for taking her away from the father she loves.
But what choice do I have? I cannot drag her father around with the Winter Court army, and I won’t leave my mate behind.
I resolve that when there’s a lull in the fighting and the Winter Court army can withstand my absence, I will bring Isabel for a quick visit with her father.
The door opens, and Isabel steps into the hallway. Her red-rimmed eyes widen when she spots me. Her father peeks his head out and gives me a strange look. To him, I’m just a normal human, though I suppose he’s curious about why his daughter is peering at me with surprise.
I study Tomas Sinclair for a moment, then decide he can tolerate my natural appearance. I wave a hand in front of my face, instantly removing the glamour.
First, he appears shocked. Then, angry. He ducks back into his room for a moment, only to emerge again carrying two moneybags. He marches up to me, holding the bags up.
“I will give you everything I have if only you’ll let Isabel stay with me,” Mr. Sinclair says in a steely tone that takes me aback.
My first instinct is to laugh in his face, but after a quick glance at Isabel, the urge passes. Her head is lowered slightly, and I sense her defeat. I also sense the embarrassment she’s feeling on her father’s behalf. He’s ashamed that he can’t fight me, and she feels bad for him.
“Respectfully, I must decline your offer, Mr. Sinclair,” I eventually say, conscious of my mate’s eyes upon me.
“Isabel is worth more to me than all the gold and silver in the realm. She’s my precious mate, and I intend to keep her and care for her.
I realize we are strangers, Mr. Sinclair, but I want to assure you that Isabel will come to no harm at my hand.
Nor will I allow anyone to harm her while we’re traveling with the Winter Court army.
I swear I will keep her safe, and I will endeavor to make her happy. ”
“Happy? You think you can make my daughter happy?” He scoffs and lowers the moneybags. Then he glances over his shoulder at Isabel. “She’s my only child, and I…” His voice trails off.
Isabel approaches her father and touches his arm gently. Her eyes gleam with tears, and I feel like the worst sort of villain as I stand in the hallway lined with paintings of shipwrecks. But I won’t relent.
“Isabel is my mate,” I say, firming my voice. “She belongs with me. Please don’t cause an ugly scene, Mr. Sinclair. Tell your daughter goodbye one last time. In a few weeks, I will bring her to visit you. I give you both my word.”
Mr. Sinclair swallows hard, then nods. After shoving the moneybags into his pockets, he turns to Isabel and opens his arms. She sniffles and steps into his embrace, and I stand awkwardly in the hallway as they cling to one another, feeling every ounce of their grief.
“It’s going to be okay, Papa,” Isabel whispers. “I promise. Please don’t worry.”
My discomfort grows as I watch them pull apart. Perhaps I should’ve remained hidden around the corner. I straighten and try to summon my usual confidence, but I still feel like an unwelcome guest, an interloper who’s responsible for their anguish.
I summon a gentle countenance and reach out to Isabel. She walks forward and slowly places her hand in mine. After I guide her to stand next to me, I withdraw a pouch of gold from my pocket.
“Mr. Sinclair, I want to make sure you can get by in Hollins without any difficulty. I understand you used to run a bakery in Braemar. Perhaps you can use this to start a new bakery or whatever business venture you wish. You could even retire and be a man of leisure.”
“No, thank you.” The human man shakes his head and backs away. His chin juts up proudly.
“Please. I insist.”
Isabel remains quiet beside me, though I sense her desire for her father to accept the gold. I cannot hear her precise thoughts, not yet, but I know she wishes his stubborn pride wouldn’t keep him from accepting the money he so clearly needs.
“I said no.” Mr. Sinclair shakes his head again.
With a brief wave of my hand, the very hand that’s holding the pouch of gold, I glamour Isabel’s father into compliance.
His gaze becomes distant, and he sways slightly on his feet, but then his eyes suddenly focus on the pouch of gold.
With a faint smile, he reaches out to accept the money.
He nods, clutches the pouch to his chest, and retreats back into his room.
When he fails to shut the door behind him, I swirl my hand through the air, sending a brief gust of winter wind to close it.
“What did you do to him?” Isabel asks. “Did you… did you just glamour him?”
“Yes, little moth. I glamoured him.” I gaze down at her. “Does that anger you?”
She exhales slowly. “I’m not sure. I feel like I ought to be angry, but I’m glad he took the money.” She’s silent for a long moment before adding, “Thank you, Gideon. But… how can we be sure he’ll keep it? What if he comes to his senses in a few hours and decides to toss it out the window?”
I lift her hand and brush a gentle kiss across her knuckles. “The glamour I placed on him will fade quickly, but when he comes to his senses, he’ll think the money always belonged to him. He won’t question it.”
“Why… why did you do that?” She looks utterly confused, as though she can’t fathom any circumstance in which I might be benevolent.
“Because he’s important to you. You care about him. Therefore, I have a vested interest in his well-being too. I don’t want your father struggling to survive.” My heart fills with tenderness as I hold her gaze.
“Do you really mean that?”
“Yes, little moth. I do.” Who knew it would take being fated to a human female to inspire such compassion in me? If any of my comrades could see me now, they would wonder if I’ve sustained a head injury.
Isabel searches my face as though trying to determine whether I’m capable of deceit. Her throat works as she swallows.
“I… I don’t know what to make of you,” she whispers at last. “One moment, I believe you’re a cruel fae lord, and the next…” Her gaze flicks toward the closed door of the room where her father now rests with enough gold to begin anew. “And the next, you do something kind.”
My chest tightens at the uncertainty in her voice.
“I am a cruel fae lord when I need to be,” I say quietly, “but I will never turn that darkness on you.”
Her green eyes lift to mine, shimmering with unshed tears. For a moment, I fear she might pull away, fear she might rush back into the room with her father and force me to drag her out. But instead, her fingers tighten around mine.
“Thank you again,” she says softly, “for helping him.”
I incline my head. “Come, little moth. We should leave before the streets grow crowded. I will put my glamour back in place before we head downstairs, but there are some humans, usually those who have traces of fae ancestry and don’t even know it, who can sometimes see through glamours.”
She nods, and I revel in the slight blush that suddenly tinges her cheeks.
Together, we descend the stairs and pass through the receiving room below. The proprietor glances up from the hearth where a servant girl is coaxing flames to life, but thanks to my glamour, neither of them spares me a second glance.
Outside, the town is beginning to wake. Shopkeepers unlatch shutters, horse-drawn carts pass by in a steady procession, a group of giggling children chase a cat, and several women carrying baskets murmur to one another as they cross the street.
I guide Isabel away from the main road, leading her toward the ussha-blessed forest on the edge of Hollins.
After entering the forest, we walk for a short spell until we reach a small clearing. A glance over my shoulder reveals the town is no longer visible through the trees.
“How long will it take to reach the Winter Court army’s encampment?” Isabel asks. “I mean, I assume that’s where we’re going.”
“Yes, that is exactly where we’re headed, and it will take about four days. If I were by myself, I could probably make the journey in two, but I don’t want to fly so fast that I make you ill.”