Twelve
Calypso
“You said you were king.” I stared at Azulin.
“I am.” He offered me the plate of roasted chicken that the cook had prepared for his new pet. “They are part of my council.”
“Last I knew the title of king demanded more respect than councilor.” I accepted the plate and scooped some meat into my mouth to appease my growling stomach. “That wasn’t respect.” I motioned toward where the portal had dissipated. “Unless it’s a cultural thing and fae kings function differently than human kings.”
“They don’t,” Ghost grumbled from behind me.
Azulin didn’t reply. Instead, he crossed to the massive desk. Setting his plate of food on the edge, he collapsed into the seat behind it with a heavy sigh. Exhaustion marred his unnaturally handsome features, and his shoulders drooped.
“You haven’t slept, have you?” An irrational irritation nagged me.
“I slept some.” Azulin jutted his chin at his untouched food. “Do you want more to eat?”
I glanced down at my plate and found it empty. I didn’t recall eating it all. My stomach still pinched, and his food looked good.
“You haven’t eaten,” I pointed out. “Aren’t you hungry?”
He regarded me with a weary smile. “I ate.”
“When?”
He and Ghost exchanged a speaking glance.
“Ghost brought me breakfast while you were still sleeping.” Azulin rested his elbow on the arm of his chair and leaned his cheek against his hand. “I have eaten enough. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.”
“What are you not telling me?”
Another silent exchange of glances passed between the king and the dragon.
“Eat.” Azulin pushed the plate toward me. “We have a long day ahead and you will need the sustenance.”
Giving in to the urgings of my underfed stomach, I took the plate and started filling my mouth.
He assessed me as I ate. “She needs appropriate clothing, Ghost.”
I paused with a heavily laden spoon of some kind of fruit-flavored gelatin halfway to my mouth.
“Unless you wish to remain as a cat at all times.”
“What is wrong with my appearance?” I demanded. “For all they know everyone dresses like this where I come from.”
Amusement lightened Azulin’s features ever so slightly before he governed them. “Everyone wears my nightshirts?”
“Not yours specifically,” I protested. “Nightshirts in general.”
Ghost coughed in a way that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. He crossed to the widest window in the room and twitched back the curtains. A tingle of magic tickled my nose as he triggered a spell.
“I have a full docket of work this afternoon.” Azulin straightened in his seat and began organizing the items on his desk before pinning me with an assessing stare. “Might I be able to depend on you keeping your mouth closed for the duration?”
I shrugged as I continued chewing. “So, you want me to sit and watch?”
“The less they note your presence, the safer you will be.” Azulin stood and cleared a pile of books and paper, striding across the room to a cabinet.
“Might I suggest some books from the library?” Ghost inserted. “Assuming you read.”
“I read Common very well, thank you.” I shot him a glare.
The dragon only nodded.
The massive door opened and Furintag entered. Executing a precise bow that somehow included me, he said, “You summoned, Your Majesty?”
“The lady requires appropriate attire for the day,” Ghost responded as Azulin continued clearing and straightening. “Also, please fetch a selection of books in Common from the library.”
“Any particular genres or requests, my lady?” Furintag asked.
I blinked at him in surprise. Although I could read, I had never had the leisure to read for entertainment. Reading had always been done out of necessity or to educate myself about something. “What do you recommend?”
“In that case, I shall bring a selection of books for you to browse.”
“And a comfortable chair,” Azulin added from where he was adjusting books on a shelf. “She is still recovering from her ordeal.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “By the looks of things, I have recovered more than you. I don’t have dark circles under my eyes.”
Azulin ignored me and continued fussing with the shelf.
Ghost cleared his throat. “A privacy screen would be helpful as well. Please have them all brought with great haste, Furintag. The king’s appointments are waiting.”
“Very well. Sire, my lady, Enforcer.” Upon executing a series of precise bows in each of our directions, the servant left.
I waited until the door closed before opening my mouth. “Az—Your Majesty, should I be bowing to any of your guests? What is the protocol?”
Azulin dragged a huge ledger off a shelf and carried it over to his desk. “You bow to no one except me. As my companion, you outrank all others at court.”
My eyebrows rose. “Do they know that?”
“They will learn.” Azulin chose a leather bookmark trailing from the bottom of the ledger and then opened the book to the page. “As my companion, you only need to genuflect to sovereigns of other nations. Now where did Soren put my pens?”
“What about the curse? How and when will we begin figuring out what to do about it?”
His attention snapped up then. “What about it?”
“It isn’t broken,” I pointed out.
He continued to stare expectantly at me. The familiar expression of indifference masked what was really going on in his thoughts, but it couldn’t hide the tension in his posture or the exhaustion in the lines of his features. Despite his activities, I suspected Azulin was struggling to focus and think, clear signs of exhaustion.
“Aren’t we going to investigate why it hasn’t broken completely? Why has it weakened? How can we end it permanently?”
“Those questions will have to wait until I deal with the crises at hand.” He frowned. “Ghost, tell Soren I wish to speak with the delegate from the elves in a half hour. I assume you wish for me to be present for your meeting with the dragon representative after that. Then the consultation with healer.”
“I do.” Ghost grimaced. “Best we settle dragon’s question once and for all.”
“I doubt that will be possible.”
Ghost snorted. “Not for lack of trying. They won’t be appeased until I take a mate and disqualify myself from their games.” The dragon eyed me consideringly.
“Not me.” I lifted my right arm where the tattoo coiled. “Taken, apparently.”
Azulin growled in apparent frustration and slammed the ledger closed, making me jump. “Go, Ghost. Best notify them of the plan. The less time this takes the better.”
The dragon flashed me a mischievous smile and winked before bowing. “At once, sire.” With that, he left.
Azulin continued rearranging things on the desk and shelves and ignoring me. I watched him as I finished the food on the plate. Then, suddenly, he stopped and turned to study me, his eyes glinting in the sunlight coming through the windows.
“It couldn’t be that simple,” he declared.
“What?” I popped the last bite of meat into my mouth and chewed while I watched him warily.
“But it would fit with the Unseelie king’s agenda.” Azulin ran his hands through his hair, standing it all on end.
I grimaced at him. “If you insist on thinking out loud, kindly explain yourself so I can follow your thoughts. Why would what fit with the Unseelie king’s plans?”
Azulin blinked. “Breaking the curse by requiring me to marry a mortal would fit perfectly with my rival’s apparent plan to subjugate the Seelie kingdom.” He began to pace, eating up the length of the room in long strides. I had to follow or risk losing consciousness.
“The Unseelies have long desired to be the sole masters of the Wild Woods. In the century before I was born, the kings—my father and the previous Unseelie king—warred over the border. Finally, the kings agreed to a duel to settle the question once and for all. The Unseelie king died, and my father was cursed with a wasting disease that has slowly eaten away at his mind ever since.”
Azulin stopped abruptly and bowed his head. Massaging his temples, he closed his eyes. “The following truce lasted until the Unseelie king cursed me to these monthly tortures of riding in the Wild Hunt against my will or—”
“Being forced into a labyrinth,” I finished for him.
He regarded me wearily. Exhaustion and pain lay barren in his expression. “I am sorry you were dragged into this.” He reached out as though to brush my arm, but at the last moment, he thrust the hand back though his hair instead.
The door opened, and Ghost entered. “Furintag has returned,” he announced.
Azulin drew in a deep breath and straightened to his full height, tugging at his clothing. Turning to face the door, an expression of disinterest on his face once more, he said, “Let them come.”
Furintag and a procession of younger servants entered. Within moments, a couch, a privacy screen, and a stack of books on an elegant table were installed in the corner behind Azulin’s desk.
“Which would you prefer?” Furintag asked as he held up two elegant gowns, both far finer than any I had ever seen before. Covered in lace and beading, they were fussier than I preferred. Still, I appreciated the gesture.
I indicated the pale-green gown and within moments, I was handed underthings and whisked behind the privacy screen to change. By the time I emerged, only Furintag, Ghost, and Azulin remained in the room and the dishes from our—my—meal had been cleared away.
“I will take those.” Furintag claimed my discarded clothing. “Will that be all, sire?”
Azulin looked up from a piece of paper he was consulting and nodded. “Thank you, Furintag.”
The servant bowed and left.
I turned to ask Azulin for clarification about the whole “mortals bringing down the fae court”, but before the words left my mouth, Soren opened the door and announced the arrival of the elvish delegate.
∞∞∞
Azulin
“Your communications of late have given rise to questions.” Illeron Whispier, the king of Eldarlan’s spymaster and the current elven delegate, studied me intently from across my desk. “If I didn’t know better, I would suspect you were trying to hint at something that your curse is preventing you from addressing directly.”
I nodded. The curse bound my tongue, but not my motor control. However, that admission alone caused the curse to claw deeper at my magic. I flinched involuntarily before mastering my responses under tight control again. Motioning for the secretary to leave and close the door, I turned to face my friend.
The spymaster’s eyebrows rose, and his lean features sharpened as he eyed me. We waited as the servants left so that only Ghost, Calypso, Illeron, and I remained. I suspected at least one shadow elf lingered nearby as well; Illeron rarely traveled unaccompanied.
As soon as the door closed, Illeron spoke, “If I might be blunt, you don’t look well.”
“This time it was a labyrinth.” I sank into my chair and dropped all pretensions. “Monsters, traps, and running for our lives.” I groaned and rubbed my forehead where a headache was developing.
“Our?” Illeron motioned with his chin toward Calypso, who was demurely sitting on her couch in the corner. Although I doubted she was actually reading the book in her hands. Her anxiety made the mating mark on my arm tighten.
“I encountered a woman and a pooka within the maze. We escaped together.”
“Did you bring the pooka home as well?” The spymaster was too intelligent for his own good.
In reply, I lifted my left arm and unfastened the clasp binding my sleeve to my wrist. My sleeve fell back, revealing the vine, which flashed and glowed in the sunlight.
Behind me, Calypso scrambled to her feet. “Az—Your Majesty?” She came around to stand next to my shoulder. “But you said—”
My arm warmed with the pleasure of her nearness. The leaves glowed.
“Illeron is a trusted friend,” I assured her.
“So that is the nature of it, then.” Illeron’s silvery-blue eyes flashed with sharp amusement. He bowed to her. “You have one as well, my lady?”
After a quick glance at me, as though double checking I approved, Calypso nodded. “Mine is larger.”
Illeron made a gesture and a shadow elf appeared out of the shadow next to the bookcase in the corner. “Casimir, you will want to see this.” The spymaster indicated my arm before turning to address Calypso. “May I see?”
Calypso’s eyes widened at Casimir’s sudden appearance. Shadow elves were impressive in general with their dusky skin, glowing eyes, and ability to shadow walk, but Casimir was in another class entirely. In addition to his impressive physique, he radiated constrained power and danger.
To my surprise, Calypso didn’t hesitate to offer her right hand to Illeron for inspection. The loose full sleeve of her gown slid to her shoulder with ease, revealing the vine. Fresh leaves and tendrils curled around her elbow and upper arm. “It has grown again.” She regarded me with concern. “When will it stop?”
“When you complete the bond,” Illeron replied distractedly. He circled her, examining the marking without touching it. “Does the mark respond to stimuli?”
“Yes.” I frowned. “It is pleased when we are close. And when we draw apart, it expresses its displeasure.”
“How so?” Illeron demanded, even more intent.
“I faint,” Calypso responded.
“And my vine constricts—painfully.”
“Intriguing.” Illeron bowed over her hand, staring intently at the mark. He muttered some words in elvish and magic flared.
Calypso sneezed, causing Illeron’s head to snap up so he could set his piercing gaze on her. “You are a shifter?”
She lifted her chin defiantly. “I am. How did you know?”
Illeron grinned. “It is a common reaction among shifters when exposed to a strong spell.”
“Not dragons.” Ghost snorted. Smoke tickled my nose.
“Of course not.” Illeron motioned for Casimir to come closer to Calypso. “Otherwise, the forests in the west would’ve burned down long ago. Cas, note how the vines wrap the opposite direction from his. And it responds to magic.” The spymaster repeated the spell, this time with more magic behind it.
Calypso sneezed so hard she almost fell over. Illeron caught her by her arm to steady her, and the vine marking my skin contracted violently. Of its own accord, my hand fisted. The irrational urge to launch myself over the desk to remove Illeron’s hand from her arm tore through me, and I had risen and half-drawn my dagger before I gained control of myself once more.
Casimir calmly placed himself between me and his brother as I wrestled down the impulses racing through me. His dark features showed no emotion as he flicked a storage spell. A wickedly sharp dragon-forged blade appeared in his hand.
“Backing away,” Illeron announced, his hands raised and splayed in a sign of neutrality.
“I suggest you go to his side, my lady,” Casimir said.
“What’s wrong?” Calypso came around the desk and approached me warily.
“He acted aggressively when I touched you. It’s a typical impulse in response to an incomplete mating bond,” Illeron explained.
I gritted my teeth at the sound of his voice. Irrationally, I put my hands over my ears to block out the sound of his voice. My body itched to move.
“Help him, my lady,” Illeron advised.
“How?” Calypso moved closer.
“Touch him. It will help.”
Casimir kept himself between me and Illeron. “I recommend you don’t speak right at this moment, brother. Your voice is provoking the instincts he is fighting.”
Calypso’s fingers caught my arm. Instantaneous relief surged through me. Desperate for control, I caught her around the shoulders and pulled her to me, burying my face in her hair.
Breathing in her scent and the lavender soap she had used the night before, I focused on the fact she was in my arms, safe. Gradually, my racing heart slowed. Within minutes, the curse and the mating bond were humming happily. Calypso relaxed, leaning into me as I pulled her closer still.
Casimir approached and examined my forearm where it wrapped around Calypso’s back. The vine glowed, rippling and glimmering against my skin. Based on the tingle wrapping my upper arm, I suspected the vine had unfurled at least two more leaves.
“Definitely an incomplete bonding,” the shadow elf muttered.
“Reversible?” Illeron asked.
Casimir assessed my arm again. “I don’t know.”
“The pooka said it wasn’t,” Calypso answered from the circle of my arms. She rested her cheek against the center of my chest. As much as I didn’t want to, I loosened my hold on her. Forcing myself to step back, I broke contact.
Calypso straightened her shoulders as though facing a grim fate. I didn’t blame her. A lifetime bound to a high fae in a role she was ill-prepared for was a scary prospect. A leaden sensation settled in my stomach. This was not how I had envisioned my eventual marriage coming about. I had hoped for a love match—or at the very least, a sense of companionship with my bride, not a match of duty.
Calypso turned and addressed the elves calmly. “The pooka warned us the bond would grow stronger the longer we remained in contact.”
Illeron frowned. “Pookas are rarely wrong about such things.”
“Your recommendation?” I asked, despite my certainty of what he would say.
“Complete the bond.” Illeron eyed me before turning to his brother. “Casimir, would you agree?”
“I’m unsure. Fae mate bonding magic functions differently than elven lifeforce bindings.”
“True,” Illeron agreed. “Neither of you are draining the other’s lifeforce.”
“But what about her tendency to faint?” I asked. “Will that end if we complete the bond?”
Casimir offered a noncommittal shrug while Illeron grimaced.
“No way of knowing,” Illeron replied. The spymaster nodded toward the bookcases. “Any records of mate bonded pairs in recent history?”
“I will have the archives and records searched.” But I didn’t hold out much hope. “Even if we find some, I doubt they will shed enough light on the situation considering she is shifter and not fae.”
“Perhaps the pooka could help,” Calypso suggested. “He might at least be able to advise us about my fainting spells.”
“Another good idea.” Illeron smiled at Calypso.
My arm tightened of its own accord, but this time I mastered the impulse to punch him before my arm did more than tense.
Behind me, Ghost huffed.
I rolled my eyes at him and tried to focus on how to steer our discussion to the other, potentially more pressing matter—the Unseelie king’s expanding border claims into human territory. The curse bound my tongue, but it didn’t bind Calypso’s. There had to be a way I could warn the elves what was happening during the Wild Rides before it was too late.