Chapter 6 #2
I slipped out of the parlor to greet Cethin.
I wasn’t alone. Sevrin, Whit, Frances, and Georgie followed me; Phineas and Mother remained behind with my nieces.
They didn’t know Cethin well yet, and he frightened them, not on purpose, though.
In fact, the dangerous fae prince tried to court their favor by plying them with gifts or using displays of magic to charm them to his side.
It had yet to work, but it was endearing that he was trying so hard.
In the courtyard beside the bright fountain, Aidan clutched Cethin close, but neither of them held my attention for more than the barest second. Someone stood behind Cethin—someone I’d longed to see.
Lord Abnus.
He was staring directly at me with those deep purple eyes that made my heart skip a beat and sent warmth rushing through me.
Lord Abnus was even more attractive than I recalled, if that was possible.
His shiny black hair hung to his sharp jaw, the front pulled back into a loose knot.
His tapered ears poked through the dark strands.
His features were sharp, like all dark fae nobles, but his were harsher than any other I’d seen.
He also shared the same gray skin with a purple undertone with other dark fae nobles, but his held an almost glittering sheen, like he was dusted with starlight.
Unlike Cethin, Abnus was dressed in the current human fashion. All his clothes were black, like his cousin’s, but his tailored jacket hugged his shoulders, his waistcoat accentuated his trim waist, and his tight trousers gave me an excellent view of his muscular legs.
“Lord Abnus,” I said breathlessly, fighting the blush that threatened to stain my cheeks when he came to stand in front of me. I had to stare up at him because he towered over my much shorter stature.
“Mr. Byrne. Greetings. How are you?”
“Well. You?” I wanted to throw myself at him, much as Aidan had Cethin, but we were in two very different situations. Words of how much I missed him and how much I esteemed him were on my lips, but I licked them away.
His throat bobbed ever so slightly. “I am well. Now.”
“But not before?”
Before he could respond, Cethin said, “I found Abnus lazing about in my mother's court and saw no reason to not bring him.”
“I was following my queen’s orders,” Lord Abnus replied. “I would’ve returned to Sídhetír when she allowed. I’m still the representative of the Night Court.”
He would’ve come back. That alone made me smile. Lord Abnus would continue to represent Queen Eilidh’s interests while the gate remained on her lands. During the spring and summer months, the new Day Court representative would come.
When I was leaving to go to Wellington, Lord Abnus would be in the Night Court for the spring and summer. That thought stole the smile from my face. We would be separated once again.
A phantom burn of tears kissed the backs of my eyes, but I forced the sensation away. I scolded myself most heartedly. I was falling into my overly romantic notions again—a foible that often arose at the worst times.
Lord Abnus’s gaze never deviated from me, even when he’d spoken to his cousin. I kept my gaze trained on him as well, unable to tear my eyes away.
“Cethin,” Mother said, making me start. She’d come outside without me noticing. “Manners.”
Cethin sighed. “And those would be?”
“Removing your hand from Aidan’s backside and offering your guest tea,” Mother informed him in a wholly pleasant tone.
“Abnus, do you want tea?” Cethin asked.
I peeked at him. He hadn’t removed his hand from Aidan, though now Aidan was wiggling to escape his husband’s embrace. Once he became aware of people around him and Cethin, he also usually recalled his manners, albeit slowly.
“I could drink tea if required,” Abnus replied.
“He doesn’t want any, Hester. Now, excuse us,” Cethin snatched Aidan’s hand and stalked toward the hedge maze, a favorite liaison point for them.
“People are visiting,” I called to Aidan.
He blushed, and Cethin growled, wrapping his arms around Aidan’s waist, his leathery wings, much like those of the dragons of old, sliding from his back. “I will be taking my mate for the rest of the day and possibly tomorrow.”
Aidan frowned but didn’t fight Cethin’s hold; instead, he clung to his husband all the tighter. They flew over the wrought-iron fence covered in green hedges toward the looming forest, where their cottage resided.
Sevrin laughed, but Mother frowned before her expression smoothed into an indulgent smile. “I suppose it can’t be helped.”
Whit guffawed. “It can’t. Cethin would never stand for any less.”
Frances, though, clutched Whit’s arm in a white-knuckled grip, staring at where Cethin and Aidan had disappeared. Her brown eyes were wide, and she’d gone even paler than normal while a sheen of sweat glistened on her brow.
Afraid. She was afraid of Cethin.
She glanced toward Lord Abnus, who stood beside me, and she recoiled, hiding behind Whit.
It wasn’t Cethin alone, but rather, dark fae and possibly all fae that frightened her.
I understood that sometimes fae could be overwhelming, not to mention terrifying, but Frances had no reason to fear either Lord Abnus or Cethin.
Neither would harm her. I hadn’t noticed this behavior at the wedding, and there had been numerous fae present, but then again, I hadn’t paid much attention to Frances.
Whit patted her hand, then turned toward Lord Abnus. “You remember my wife, Frances Byrne, your lordship?”
Lord Abnus bowed at the waist. “I do, indeed.”
I quickly reintroduced everyone, and Lord Abnus politely greeted each of the people present.
Mother, falling back into her role as mistress of Byrne Manor, invited everyone inside. I stayed close by Lord Abnus’s side as we stepped into the warm manor, refusing to be separated from him.