Chapter 16 #3
I sipped the brew, one that held faint notes of burdock and thyme, and sweet woodruff to hide the more bitter herbs and spices.
My mind slowly cleared as I drank it, the shadows that darkened my thoughts receding as my strength returned, and my hand stopped trembling.
Oberon released it and went to his own cup, sipping it as he sank into the armchair on the other side of the fire to me.
His smile was pleasant.
Disarming.
“Tell me why you threw that little tantrum then.”
Goddess, he loved that word.
I had the feeling he would be throwing it around for a lunar cycle at minimum, taunting me with it and what I had been close to doing.
I tipped my head back, finding my calm in the ancient wooden ceiling, tracing each line of the grain as I pieced my thoughts together.
There was only one place to begin.
“Saphira has gone to the Summer Court. It appears… at least according to the steward of that court… that she is part seelie and heir to the throne.”
“Well, that certainly is news.” Oberon made a thoughtful noise in his throat as he sat back and brought one ankle up to rest on his knee. “I always thought there was something different about her.”
“Something other?” I offered, letting my head roll to one side so I could see him.
He nodded and pushed the unruly strands of his black hair back from his brow as he frowned at his cup, and then at me. “Is this why you lost control?”
I shook my head. “No. I have no issue with her having part fae blood, or even that her blood is that of the male who ordered my parents’ deaths. She is not to blame for that. I lost my temper because they broke the bond.”
His handsome face grew grave. “I am sorry to hear that. But it is to be expected, is it not? If these seelie believe she is heir to their throne, they could not very well let her walk around bearing an unseelie brand.”
“I know that,” I bit out, gritting my teeth so hard they hurt as frustration mounted, and then pushed out a sigh, trying to expel all the tightness in my chest with it. “I knew it would happen sooner rather than later… but goddess… I had foolishly still hoped it would be later. Much later.”
“I must say, I am quite surprised you have not followed her.” He sipped his tea, eyeing me over the rim of it, a wicked light in his eyes.
“I cannot and you know that. However, Neve has seen me in the Summer Court, so at some point I will be there. Not until a lunar cycle has passed though, and not before Saphira is hurt.” I curled my fingers over the arm of the chair, sinking claws into it as I gripped it tightly, the thought of having to wait for my love to be wounded before I could go to her threatening to have my thoughts growing dark again.
It was probably good that my magic would take time to return to full strength.
It would keep me here, when all I wanted to be was there.
“Does she go to play queen… or does she go to play assassin?” Oberon studied me, that teasing light still in his eyes.
“She goes to play spy. She is determined to discover what happened to my brother.”
Oberon went very still.
I canted my head, studying him now as he withdrew, as he stared down at his tea with a growing air of darkness around him.
“What is it?” I kept my tone level, calm, aware that whatever dark place he had gone, he was liable to turn on me if I provoked him. Every instinct I possessed warned me of that.
Oberon casually set his cup down, but his words were anything but calm. “Foolish, reckless wolf. She risks her life for nothing.”
“Not for nothing.” I sat up straighter, eyebrows pitching low as I stared across the rug at him, as the fire crackled to fill the tense silence.
I would not have him insinuating that Saphira was wasting her time, that her noble cause to help me was worth nothing.
I would not let him belittle her like that, reducing her courageous actions to something pointless.
“For centuries, I have been driven by a need to know what happened to my brother, and Saphira wants to ease my pain of not knowing his fate. Jenavyr believes he died soon after he was taken, but I cannot think that way. I cannot just settle my mind on something and believe it to be true. I need proof. I need to know for certain what happened to him.”
Oberon met my gaze, no light in his eyes now, no trace of the teasing male I knew him to be. “Saphira will not find him in the Summer Court.”
“You do not know that.” I was quick to counter him, shaking off his words and refusing to believe him.
He was just like my sister. He believed my brother was dead.
That was the conclusion I drew from his declaration that Saphira would not find my brother in that court.
He knew what had happened to my family, and how many centuries had passed since the night my brother had been taken, and he believed him dead.
“I do know that.” Oberon toyed with the rim of his cup, running a finger around it, his gaze growing darker by degrees as he lost himself in that absent motion.
I shook my head. “You do not.”
Oberon lifted grave silver eyes to meet mine again, and his words fell on me like a blade.
“Your brother never reached the Summer Court.”