Chapter Eleven
Braden
I had to admit to being nervous as we entered the beautiful palace—though it was not as beautiful as the one I’d left the day before, to be honest. It was smaller and not as well-furnished as my lord’s castle, but then Fionn had the benefit of not one but two exquisite queens—the wives of his deceased father—in residence at ours.
I was sure that each of them had exerted their influences on the palace décor.
I had seen evidence of Fionn’s enormous wealth too, which was due, no doubt, to his expert management of his kingdom, and this Faery castle looked a bit shabby in comparison.
Any comparison of the two, however, was a little like comparing two flowers, perhaps a lily and a rose, and arguing about the beauty of one over the other. What was the point, really?
Fionn was beside me, looking monumentally unimpressed, even bored, but I knew enough about him now to know that it was his way.
He cultivated an unconventional manner that might seem vaguely dissolute and entitled on first acquaintance.
Until, that is, you realized how sharp and observant he truly was.
He exuded a seductive charm, an alluring, glamorous ennui that caught people off-guard, which was what I think he wanted.
They might think of him, on first acquaintance, as a king who ruled for the wealth, the power or even for the amusement of it, rather than with any serious intent and expertise.
The implication was that he lacked depth, mastery, or genuine dedication.
If anyone were foolish enough to think so, it would be at their own peril.
I knew that he was fully aware of every man in that room, was assessing each of them and already forming judgments.
I had to remind myself that these councilors were not truly our allies—not yet at least. The Sidhe had a long and turbulent history of fighting amongst themselves, in an attempt to gain more power and wealth for their own kingdoms. It went back many centuries.
King Callum had offered his kingdom to Fionn and the Murians, on the condition of our marriage.
But it was only because of his fury at the treachery of the Falians and the Finianh, whom he believed had cut short his life.
The Murians, their king, and me for that matter, were simply the best of a bad bargain.
I thought he had probably thrown in the part about me as a kind of afterthought.
For some reason, King Callum—my father, though I was still wrapping my mind around that fact—hadn’t trusted any of his own lords or other, more distant relatives to rule in his stead.
He had reached out to me, his estranged, bastard son.
The offspring of one of his paramours, a woman who, though extremely beautiful, was not only more or less a mortal, but a half-crazed one at that.
One who had called herself an enchantress, which was a fancy name for a witch, in my opinion.
These men, who seemed fascinated by me, were still not yet ready to accept me as having anything to do with the monarchy or even, I thought, as the late King Callum’s son.
I knew it instinctively, but Fionn knew far better than I did.
I would have to trust his judgement in this, as I was coming to in all things, because I believed he had my best interests at heart.
How convenient it was then, that they coincided with his own.
These men may have thought that Fionn took advantage of me, but the truth was that although from the first, I’d been almost beyond attracted to him, beguiled and enthralled by him, I still saw him very clearly.
He was ambitious, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
There was no reason for him to settle for a life that was less than the one he thought he needed, as long as he didn’t trample on other people’s needs along the way.
The door opened unexpectedly at the far end of the room and another lord walked in.
He was a tall man, with white-blond hair and a well-trimmed, matching beard.
I thought he must be foreign, as all the others I’d seen here in Gorias had dark hair and green eyes, like the Murians.
He was handsome, as it almost went without saying anymore with these Faery creatures, and he carried himself regally.
But the biggest surprise was the young man who was coming in behind him.
He looked to be about my age, though looks could be deceiving in this realm, and he was dressed in a robin-egg’s blue tunic and a matching brocaded cape slung across one shoulder.
It was a nobleman’s clothes and he wore them well.
He had a thin, silver crown on his blond head, as did the older man, who looked to be his father, from the strong family resemblance.
But the most surprising thing was that I recognized him, though the last time I’d seen him, he looked very different and hadn’t been so finely dressed.
He was the young man we’d met at the village with the crying woman and the shockingly butchered children.
He had told us at the time that his name was Tadgh.
He obviously recognized us as soon as he saw us too, though I saw him register the changes in me since my glamour had completely cracked, and his lips turned up at the corners as he gave us a mocking little bow.
His eyes had widened and lingered on me far longer than was appropriate, though, and I shifted my feet nervously.
I was aware of Fionn staring at him, and whether it was because he recognized him too, or because of how he was ogling me, but he didn’t comment.
Councilor Oisín, got to his feet as they came in and bowed to them, before turning back to us. “Your Grace, please allow me to introduce Ehlbert of the House of Tremarion and his son Tadgh. Ehlbert was the stepbrother of the late king.”
Fionn inclined his head, almost imperceptibly, and I saw Ehlbert’s eyes narrow.
“Your Grace,” Ehlbert said, giving Fionn a slight bow. “It was good of you to come, but there was no need for you to trouble yourself. I’ve arrived now and can see to my brother’s affairs. I’m the atheling, after all.”
An awkward silence dropped down, and the council members' eyes flashed immediately to King Fionn, who gave Ehlbert a slightly sinister smile.
“Perhaps you misunderstand, sir. I’m here at the late king’s request, to fulfill the promise I made to the king on his deathbed.
So that makes me the heir to his throne.
The one he named himself. These men here were all witnesses to the king’s decision, should you have any doubts about it.
Callum charged me with finding his son and begged my promise to marry him and then take the throne of Gorias—in that order.
I’ve done what he asked of me and now I fully intend to fulfill every word of my promise to him.
Make no mistake about it, I will take the throne of Gorias, by right and by might. ”
He gestured toward me. “And this is my royal consort, Braden, acknowledged son of King Callum.”
“You mean his bastard,” Ehlbert said, his color high on his face and spitting out the words with contempt.
“This half-mortal boy has no claim to the throne of Gorias.” He stepped back and pulled his sword.
A gasp went up from everyone sitting at the table and behind us, I was aware of Captain Darragh’s loud growl, made even more menacing, because it seemed to come from deep in his soul.
I turned to see him, and his men draw their swords too and Darragh stepped in front of the king, his eyes blazing.
Across the room from us, Tadgh did the same with his father.
The two of them glared at each other, and danger danced in the charged air between them.
“Then it’s fortunate,” King Fionn said, putting a hand on Darragh’s shoulder to restrain him, “that my husband, the Royal Consort, Braden, presents no such claim. I think I should point out, however, that, as the stepbrother of the late king, son of his estranged, and rather insignificant fourth wife, you likewise have no blood claim whatsoever and very little claim otherwise. You probably shouldn’t even be in this meeting.
Certainly not standing here in this hall, insulting the king’s son and making absurd demands.
” He ignored the sound of Ehlbert’s outraged snarl and continued talking in his bored-sounding drawl.
“Perhaps you didn’t hear me, or you’re simply choosing to ignore the fact that King Callum himself asked me to take his throne upon his death.
Furthermore, I gave him my promise to defend the throne of Gorias against any and all treachery by the Falians and the Finians, whom he believed to be the ones responsible for the cowardly attacks on him. ”
Fionn’s manner was still relaxed and languid, though his eyes flashed with those little bolts of silver lightning again.
“I believe your mother was Falian—if I’m not mistaken?
Perhaps your Falian relations advised you to come here today and stake your claim.
If so, then I suggest we settle the matter with our swords.
Put yours away, unless you intend to use it.
Oh, and by the way, Lord Ehlbert, if I ever hear you use that slur in reference to my husband again, I’ll happily carve your tongue from your mouth. ”
Everyone at the table, including me, jumped to their feet then in alarm, and the head councilor’s loud voice could be heard calling for the Gorian guards.
Tadgh and his father continued to glare at us, but meanwhile, Fionn never moved, never flinched, but stood staring at Ehlbert, daring him to make a move, as tension crackled dangerously in the room.