40. Chapter 40
Chapter 40
I had been avoiding him, and I’d managed to get away with it for two whole weeks with Goose’s help. There was no avoiding my duties, though thankfully, Daróg had still not been cleared to leave the infirmary in the Temple of the Ascended. I was shuffled between the salons and the throne room, both empty each time I entered. Whomever was deciding my rotation wanted me well and truly away from the other Fae. They wanted to keep me hidden as much as possible.
Whenever I’d hear his signature boot strikes on the stonework or floorboards, Goose would envelope me in shadows and pull me into what I called the “Goose Realm.” I didn’t know if that was actually a thing, and the one time I had asked him about it, he stared at me like I didn’t know the fucker was capable of talking.
The Goose Realm wasn’t an entirely separate world but was merely a pocket of space that could not be seen by other Fae. Humans seemed to be able to see it just fine, as I accidentally found out, trying to sneak up on Violet while she was sulking one evening. The stool to the head was adequate payment for my mistake.
Each time The Raven swept into a room, seeking me out disappointment and confusion warring in that handsome face of his, my heart shattered a little more. It must have been twinkling dust by now. The agony of its destruction was my payment and sacrifice for what I needed to do to see my plan out. I couldn’t be distracted by his entrancing smile nor the way his hands felt against my skin.
I couldn’t be haunted by the whisper of what we could have been. I needed to stay focused. Now that I had a mental map to navigate the obstacles of exit, I needed to be strong for the three humans I had chosen as my vanguard. I could not be taking deep breaths of his scent while he hunted around the room for me.
He had just left the throne room, where I was hiding behind Goose, waiting for The Oaken Rose.
I had sent her two messages, the first telling her she had two weeks. Emerald had crept into her chambers and left the message pinned to her pillow as she slept. It was a clear and present warning. If she had heeded it, there would have been no reason for the spider that was left with the second that had demanded she meet me here.
I had watched her flit through the court, “the blooming rose in the garden of weeds,” as she liked to call herself. Charming everyone.
I hated her. Not just for the place that she would eventually claim in his life but also and in equal measure for what she had done. She had tricked me, and I would not let that barb sink any lower. It was time to take control of where she sought to reign.
The whispering swish of a midnight-blue silk dress heralded her entrance as she closed and locked the throne room door behind her. Now, seeing her in the same light, and in the same place, I don’t know how I had missed it the first time around. How I had not placed her exactly in this room when I found her in the garden.
The roses blooming in her hair reminded me of the spider I had killed down below and was currently rotting under the stones of this palace. I idly wondered where exactly that prison was nestled below as The Oaken Rose searched the throne room for me. What rooms lay above the shards of my mother’s body? How many floors above her was I at this very moment?
I stepped from the shadows of Goose’s protection directly behind her. Goose twisted and coalesced back into his tall, shaggy, smoky dog form at my side. He was always at my side these days, even when he could not be seen by the other Fae.
“Are you looking for someone, my lady?” I knew exactly who she was looking for .
She jumped, startled by my shattering of the silence that enveloped her. “Oh! Cricket! I didn’t see you there.”
The attempt at an innocent tone that matched her sugary sweet tone she’d used on me in the garden was adorable. Too bad it was hiding venomous fangs below the crusting of sweetness.
“I’ve been here all day, my lady.” I tilted my head to her. “Were you looking for someone?”
“Yes. Uhm. One of the Bánánach was supposed to meet me here, I believe. Have you seen Lord White Throat?”
I liked her flustered. It was a good shade on her. I had not met Lord White Throat, but it was interesting that she thought that the spider message was from him. I made a note to ask the three about him. Perhaps we could find out exactly what Oaken Rose was up to.
“I have not. And aside from myself and your betrothed, no one else has been in the throne room today.”
A twinkle of venom sparkled in her cornflower-blue eyes. She didn’t like that I had mentioned him so casually, and she had forgotten to mask her distaste for it. Very interesting. Why exactly would the betrothed of my erstwhile suitor dislike me acknowledging her claim on him?
She was being sloppy today. Or I had stopped thinking like a human and started thinking like a Fae. Either way, it was a blessing I would not turn down.
“No one else at all?”
“No, my lady.”
She deflated as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders and cast me a glance. “I know I still owe you an exit. I’m still working on it.”
She played the opening hand, and I intended on winning this round.
I watched her, letting her squirm under my regard. I thought of all the ways I could flay her alive. Even if I did it with an iron blade. I would enjoy it. I would savor every scream. And I let the twisting disdain and murderous sentiments leak through to my face.
“Working on it? It has been months, my Lady Oaken Rose. ”
My tone was passive, letting nothing but the harrowing play out in my regard.
She attempted to collect herself, suddenly realizing that the beaten, broken girl she had met in the garden was not the same who stood before her. The realization dawned in the sky of her face as clearly as the sun in the sky of Magh Meall.
“Patience. I know it is not a virtue that humans are known for, but you have hundreds of thousands of years to live here in the palace. I am oath-sworn to show you and your hand chosen comrades a way out of the palace. And I will. In time.” Cunning, dull as a butter knife, glittered in her eyes. She thought she held the upper hand here.
“Funny things, those oaths. Aren’t they.” I tilted my head, watching her like a hawk observing a mouse with a broken leg.
“How so?”
I smiled, mania leaking into the corners of my lips. “Well, its just that there we were swearing our respective parts, and you know I thought about it and like you said I have hundreds maybe even thousands of years to live in this palace. And there you are, sending me little notes telling me you’re working on it. At least for a little while. Did you get distracted?”
The shift in my tone had her on her back foot. Goose sat at my side, glaring at her. I didn’t bother to look down at him, I knew my enemies were his enemies, and what Goose considered his enemy rarely stayed alive for long.
“Where did you get a failinis?”
Worry was creeping into the edges of her carefully controlled voice as she watched Goose.
“You must have gotten distracted if a simple dog can distract you from this.” I pulled out the dagger I had stolen from one of the passing guards, who was too engrossed in flirting with a pretty young Fae to notice the lifting of his blade.
Her eyes flicked up to me, and I smiled. “See, the way I figure it, my Lady Oaken Rose, you’re right. You have my entire life span to fulfill that oath. But what happens to you if I’m no longer alive and you haven’t fulfilled your oath? The life of a daoire, especially one directly under your lover, sorry, brother’s hand, is harsh and fraught with danger. Any Fae could slip in and plunge a dagger into her back.”
Her eyes narrowed on the knife I pressed to my throat. “Humans have an aversion to suicide. Your self-preservation instincts are too sharp.”
“Are they? Are you sure about that? What would you wager on the fact I won’t slice my own throat open for what you and your foul pig of a brother have done to me?” I pressed the dagger in a little for effect, letting it bite in and loosen a small rivulet of blood to slip down the pale column of my neck.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she hissed, trying to lunge for the knife.
Goose’s jaws collided with her wrist and snapped down several times before she was able to draw it back.
“And why not? I have nothing left to lose but my chains.” I slid the knife down, letting it carve into the sensitive flesh of my throat. Milky golden blood pumped in quick succession down the yoke of my dress. “You have one more week, my Lady Oaken Rose. If the sun sets on me within this palace on the seventh day, I will slit my throat and let you sort out whatever consequences come for you as a result. And if you think to have me sequestered to keep me chained and shackled to prevent it, know that I am very determined, and the moment an opportunity arose I would not hesitate. You would merely prolong your exposure to magic’s wrath. So, think very carefully about your next move.”
Her eyes narrowed as she held her wounded wrist close to her body. “I will not be dictated to by a fucking animal.”
“Oh, but you will be, my dearest Lady Oaken Rose. I know being the one over the barrel getting ass fucked by an oath is unfamiliar to you. So, let me spell it out. You chose to enter an oath with me. You sat your pretty little ass in that garden and waited for me. You maneuvered this into place. Not me. I was not the one that sought you out. Oaths cut both ways my lady. You, a Fae, should know that. Oaths sworn must be kept.” I pulled the blade away from my neck. “Now I believe I have made my fucking point. Get out of my sight. ”
“I could have you beaten every day for those seven days and then toss you out the front door,” she snapped.
“You could. You very well fucking could. And if you do, know that those seven days are a fucking courtesy. If I think for even a moment that you seek to fuck me in any way during those seven days, I won’t hesitate. My freedom will either be through that front door or with a knife in my chest. One way or another, I will fucking have it. It’s your choice if you want to be fucked in the process. Any way you squirm, know that I will find a way to make it a decision you regret.” I sneered at her, flicking my eyes to the door. “Go. You have plans to make.”
She watched me through slitted eyes for what seemed like an eternity. I could tell she was trying to find a way to slither from between the coils of the noose she had wrapped around her neck. The sad thing was, a Fae could never understand the exact brand or flavor of a human with nothing left to lose. A human with comfort and luxury is the contented little pet. A human you have taken everything from, even if you don’t realize it is all gone, is the most terrifying of creatures because they were likely to do anything at all, even if that was self-mutilation. And even if I was born Fae, that rabidity was still hardwired into my essence.
She finally decided to retreat, to lick her wounds and plan a way to slip free. She was welcome to do so. There was no bluff in anything I promised her. Even if this palace wouldn’t keep me, a Fae, from permanently dying short of having cold iron shoved into my heart or one of the other multitudes of deadly Fae poisons and methods, I would rather die than sing in their canary cage.
I watched her slip out of the throne room and slid the knife back into its sheath, then handed it to Goose, who quickly swallowed it. I smirked down to him and ruffled the curling wisps of smoke at his head. “Go tell Emerald I need to know who Lord White Throat is and why he and The Oaken Rose might be in cahoots.”
Goose whimpered and looked around the empty throne room.
“I’ll be fine. You’ll only be gone a little while anyway. Go on, off, you fuck. I’ll go polish a knob or something. ”
Goose made his way to one of the shadows near the back of the throne room and turned to me, watching me with concern flashing in his lens-flare eyes. I shooed him and smirked. He’d become a hen over the last week. The more I hid from The Raven, the tighter Goose stuck to me. He didn’t seem to like the way I shivered with sorrow and need any time the scent of cedars filled my nose. I didn’t like it either.
Rag in hand, I began idly dusting the monstrosity of a tree-bound throne.
I didn’t like the unfinished business between The Raven and me. I had seven days to figure out how to settle it. I knew, without a doubt, that the strength that I would need to walk away from him would be more than I could bear. I knew that I had to. He had lied to me, and he had, before even knowing me, cursed me to a life without family and to grow up without love in my life. There was nothing that could erase that sin from his tally sheet.
I needed to keep reminding myself that he was engaged to my greatest enemy, the lover of my archnemesis and the architect of my misfortune.
If I could keep that in my line of sight, I might be able to make it through these last seven days without falling back into the cycle of yearning and hate.
“Little Pearl . . .”
A soft, masculine voice filled the cavern of the empty room, and I stiffened. I did not recognize it, but there was something under the edges that whispered familiarity. Those two words felt like layers of old wallpaper in an ancient house I had once lived in for a few weeks. The more you scratched at it, the more patterns you found beneath.
I spun on my heel, wishing I hadn’t sent Goose away with the blade. A soldier stood in the doorway that led off to a private study Daróg rarely seemed to use for all the dust that had settled on every surface.
A gauntleted finger beckoned me into the study, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I watched his doe-brown eyes dart around the room to see if we were alone.
“Who the fuck are you? ”
“Shh! Come!” the soldier whisper-yelled in a hiss and leveled his gaze on the door. “I won’t hurt you. I swear it. Come.”
I cocked a brow and looked from the door to the grand gallery back to the soldier. I inched closer, and the soldier opened it wider, nervous eyes glued to the other.
An assassin sent to kill me wouldn’t be so concerned about Silver and his companion soldier that guarded the other side of that grand gallery door. Right? Why the fuck would they care if anyone knew I was talking to them? Wouldn’t they just jump in and get to slicing?
I wasn’t overly familiar with the ways of assassins, but the last one I’d seen sure as hell didn’t seem to care all that much that I watched.
Shrugging, I slipped inside the study and put space between the soldier and I as he closed the door.
He relaxed significantly the moment the door to the study closed. I noted that he didn’t bother to lock it, which set me at ease as well. Even if I did back up to the desk and palm the thin bar of the letter opener that lay on its polished face.
The soldier turned a warm smile on me and let his gaze travel up and down my body with a familiarity that made me squirm under his regard. He clucked disappointment when he saw the cuts on my neck. “Little Pearl, you’ve cut yourself. Let me lick it better?” He took two steps forward, and I leveled the improvised weapon at him.
“Back the fuck up, weirdo. There will be no licking my neck for you. Who the fuck are you?”
An enigmatic smile curled along his lips, and he canted his head at me. “Do you truly not recognize me? Dig deep, little pearl, tell me true.”
My glare raked him up and down, but I did not recognize this nameless soldier clad in the livery of the guards and with rank-less ear cuffs. The longer I looked, though, the more that image of me sitting in the nearly empty room of the Cervantes family home, scratching at wallpaper with my thumb nail to pass the time grew.
The guard leaned against a bookshelf as I watched him, picking apart every detail.
“I do so love it when your eyes are on me. ”
“Brittle Spear?”
He clucked a gentle reproach. “That would be Ard Tiarna Brittle Spear, little pearl.”
I rolled my eyes and set the letter opener down. “I thought you were in a dungeon somewhere?”
“Funny thing about that.” He examined his nails through the thick leather gauntlet glove of his guard costume. “I never trusted The Raven. I knew he was playing me. There would be no way, with how obsessed he is with you, he would dangle your delicious pussy in my face and not want to exact a price far too high for me to pay. Of course, the goods were well worth the price, darling. I just hadn’t had my fill yet.”
“Yeah, well, the bakery’s closed, pal. What do you want?”
“That’s a shame. I barely got to enjoy the delights you have to offer. The Raven can be a greedy lover, though, so I guess I’ll nurse my broken heart with something else.”
I snorted. “The Raven and I aren’t fucking. What do you want?”
Ard Tiarna Brittle Spear’s eyes raked over me once more, this time with a new interest. “Truly?”
My brow shot up. “Seriously, Brittle Spear? Are you honestly here to ask me about my fucking sex life?”
“Lack thereof, really, but no. I’m mostly astounded that for all his single-minded obsession he has not fucked you to dust.” The genuine confusion on Brittle Spear’s borrowed face was sort of endearing. “How—and I don’t mean the mechanics good lady, we both know I know the mechanics—has he not fucked you yet?”
I sighed, exasperated by the unending libido of the entire Fae existence. Did none of them have anything to worry about other than sinking their various parts into each other? “I guess I’m not that great of a lay.”
Brittle Spear blew a dismissive sound and moved closer. “My dear lady, let me settle that doubt immediately. Would that I were so blessed as to be given the opportunity to taste even a single solitary drop of your passions again, I would crawl on hands and knees from one end of Magh Meall to the other praising the names of the god who so blessed me.”
“Well, I guess I’m not that great compared to his soon to be wife. So. Out with it, Brittle Spear. What do you want.”
Understanding clapped like thunder on his young face.
“Ah. I see. The Lady Oaken Rose does what she is best at, driving wedges between people who deserve each other. She is a viper in a fine dress.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“She has a weakness.” I cocked a brow and looked to him as he made himself comfortable, one ass cheek on the desk I was leaning on, one leg propping him up as he leaned closer. “She is a jealous and fickle thing. Clever, yes, like we all are, but she is blinded by her own machinations and believes herself far better at the game than she truly is. If you have chosen her as an enemy, I am afraid to say this, sweet golden pearl, but she is an unworthy adversary. You will find once you bite past her thin veneer, there is nothing but rot and bitterness fueling the engine of her decisions.”
“She has nothing to be jealous of with me.”
He clucked and tipped his head to the side. “Does she not? You are the most beautiful creature in the whole of the court. Not merely what your maker has crafted you into—no, darling. Below that gilding, you radiate power, beauty, intelligence, passion so sharp that it could cleave this entire world in two should you wish it. You have tasted her lover, you have bewitched her betrothed, and all around her, she hears whispers of lust, desire and bald covetousness surrounding your name. You stand a singular force that cannot be bowed, so she seeks to break you. And you have not even a single dent in your glittering surface for all her flinging of stones.”
I smirked up to Brittle Spear, warring emotions swirling within me in a calamitous whirlpool. “You know, I could grow to like you.”
He puffed up and grinned from ear to ear. “The blessings of a silver tongue.” He winked.
“Aaaand just like that, gone.” I snorted .
“Ah, well, my heart shatters again. You wound me unendingly, darling pearl, and I am sick with need for more.” Seriousness pulled over him and drowned out the playful air between us, smothering it like a blanket on a fire. “As much as I have yearned to banter with you, my dearest pearl, that is not why I risked this meeting, and I don’t know how long we will have to speak.”
“Yeah, how are you here, anyway?”
“I called in a boon I had with a member of my court. I saved his daughter from the jaws of a leon craosach many years ago and paid for her healing. He swore a death boon to me. I executed on it. Reshaped him to look and sound like me and told him what he needed to know, then sent him in my stead. It was a simple thing. That The Raven did not notice the chicanery tells me only that he is distracted. A deadly position for him of all Fae to be in.” His eyes darted to the door as voices rose in the throne room. Someone was looking for me. He cursed under his breath. “My time is at an end, darling. Know that The Lady Oaken Rose is not the only viper that circles you. There is another. And when you fly from this place, seek out the leaves of the Fómhar, I will find you and be at your aid. Now, excuse me for what I must do.”
“Wha—”
I didn’t have a chance to finish my thought as he dropped to his knees, shoved my dress up to my hips, and buried his face in my very confused pussy right as the door to the study flew open. His tongue found its way to the delicate petals of his feast and his hands their way to my hips. Pleasure, unbidden and without pretense, flicked along my spine, following the unexpected attention of his skilled tongue.
Silver pushed into the study with the other guard on his heels as I struggled to push Brittle Spear off me.
“Soldier!” the other barked as he other grabbed at the leatherworked collar of his armor and pulled him from me.
I shoved my dress down, trying to cover up the fact that I probably would have let Brittle Spear enjoy his meal a longer had their timing been just a little slower .
“Soldier, explain yourself this instant! What were you doing in here with the Ard Rí’s favored daoire?” demanded the guard holding him by the collar.
Silvertree was silent, watching me and the pantomime playing out before him. He was the smartest of the two of them, the one that had watched the way I moved and ushered me from place to place each day.
Brittle Spear didn’t have the time to make up a convincing enough lie. The impact of my foot to the most sensitive of places knocked the wind right out of any, and all lies his silver tongue could have crafted. “The next time you touch me without permission, guard or no, I’ll skin you alive and make a dress out of it.”
Brittle Spear crumpled in on the pain and fell to the ground. I cast my gaze to the two guards. “Some guards, you two are. Maybe, I dunno, watch me? Just a wild suggestion. No need to take it. I think I’m done for the day. Can one of you two please take me back to my cot? I’m not needed here, and we all know the only reason I am here is so that someone can keep up appearances that they aren’t treating me like I’m of no use when the Ard Rí isn’t plowing me.”
Silvertree looked between Brittle Spear, the other guard, and me, then finally nodded. “As you wish. I think it is best for your sake if perhaps we do not drag you up from the warrens without merit, Miss Cricket.”
I nodded in agreement and let him lead me from the room. I was just hearing the beginning of what sounded like an epic dressing down for his supposed crimes when Silvertree closed the door to the throne room and began leading me back to the warrens.
I had an ally. Whether Brittle Spear could be counted on was a problem for another day. His warning was hot in my ears, ringing and clear as day, churning over with the idea that someone close to me was as bad as Oaken Rose.
Did he mean The Raven? The only people close to me aside from The Raven was Green Man, Violet, and Emerald, and it was in their best interest not to betray me. Not now that the final gauntlet had been thrown. They all three wanted to be free more than they wanted to twist the knife on someone, and I was betting my life on that.