Chapter 15 #2
Despite the return of the tyrant prince, Lilian couldn’t stop smiling. She was going to ride the high all day. “Nah, I’m a marketing genius now. I’m going to be running this faire in a few years.”
Hawk snorted. “Oh, really? You trying to put me out of a job?”
“Maybe not out of a job entirely,” she answered, “but you said competition breeds competence.”
His eyes widened. “Wow, you really have been listening to me. I think I’ve created a monster.”
Lilian could feel Margo and Logan’s eyes watching them. This easy conversation between her and Hawk was new—new for her and she suspected new for everyone witnessing it. It made her feel special. Like she was the only one who could unlock this hidden secret.
But she remembered Hawk’s fear of unprofessional behavior at the faire and stepped back. Margo already suspected something. They didn’t need to feed any more rumors.
“How about we celebrate a good day’s work?” Hawk suggested.
“Um…” Margo said loudly, “I hope you know I still do not forgive you for the turkey leg. I heard about the soup!”
Hawk shared a look with Lilian. “You did?” he said, slowly adding, “Well, I suppose I owe you a beer, then. If that will make us even.”
“I suppose you do,” Margo said with a definite nod of her head.
“What about me?” Logan shouted. “It’s Pirate Weekend. You won’t treat the main act?”
The old Hawk would have scoffed and walked away without another word. But today, Hawk turned to her, his gaze pained, before he said, “Sure. Why not? Drinks are on me.”
Margo and Logan’s mouths fell open. Silence followed the offer, as they waited for it to be rescinded. Hawk stared back at them, his gaze as sure as always.
“This offer is only going to be for a limited time, so you better be at the castle and order your beers before six.”
The two nodded enthusiastically, their shock still holding the shop captive. Hawk turned to Lilian and whispered, “Did I just make a horrible mistake?”
“Maybe.” She laughed, bumping his shoulder. It was the only physical contact she would allow herself at the faire, but it felt good when he leaned back against her. His muscle was a solid presence that kept her grounded.
“Show them the real me. Isn’t that what you said the other night?”
She turned and found that chocolatey gaze holding her own. He flashed a smile, and she practically melted onto the floor.
He was doing this because she’d made the suggestion.
It made her feel heard. Reassuring her that this thing between them wasn’t one-sided.
It wasn’t Hawk calling all the shots or making all the business decisions.
He valued her thoughts as well, and for someone who was still trying to determine her own self-worth. It meant everything.
When the faire closed its gates for the night, the actors remained within the kingdom walls, celebrating the day’s success with drinks and merriment.
Most retired to the campsite behind the faire, where the traveling actors and vendors made their home for the season.
But tonight, The Grog was the center of festivities.
Lit torches kept the atmosphere stuck in a time before electricity.
The fading sunlight hid the more modern edges of the faire.
It was a trick of the light, one that made the paint look worn and gave the pirate-ship stage the appearance of a real vessel.
With their costumes still on, Lilian could almost believe they’d been transported back in time.
The sound of fiddles, flutes, and accordions filled the space, layered with cheers. Logan’s pirate band played a jaunty tune, singing naughty sea shanties. Alex led the charge, surprising the crowd with a rich, melodious voice as she danced across the stage with her crew.
“I didn’t know Alex could sing,” Lilian said, watching the way the crowd hooted for their pirate queen. It had been a while since she’d seen Alex perform like this. Back when she and Margo had worked as wenches at The Grog, they’d caught glimpses of her act more often. But never like this.
“Yeah,” Logan sulked, eyes watching the other woman closely. “I should be up there. Not her.”
“Oh, don’t get your leather pants in a twist.” Margo laughed. “You can’t dance in your condition.”
“But I can sing.” He stood, reaching for his crutch as he muttered, “She is not going to show me up on my weekend.”
“Sit down,” Hawk said, coming to the table and setting a frothing pint of beer in front of Logan. “Or I will give this to someone else.”
The sight of the free drink forced Logan back to the bench. “I suppose I can enjoy one drink before I take to the stage.”
Lilian smothered a smile as she and Margo accepted their drinks from Hawk. “Thank you, good sirrah,” she trilled in a dramatic English accent.
Hawk pulled her drink out of reach. “I will dump this on the ground if you say that again.”
“How about, thanks for the beer, boss,” Margo offered.
He raised his eyes to the sky, shaking his head good-naturedly. He set the beer in front of her and bent to join them when someone barked his name. They all turned to find King Rothbury standing in the shadows on the outskirts of the crowd, his mouth twisted and arms crossed.
Her anxiety spiked at the sight of him.
Hawk let out a long exhale. “Give me a second.”
The small group watched as Marcus talked to his son. It was impossible to hear what exactly was being said, but from the sharp movements of his hands, it was clearly not something good.
“I wonder what that’s about,” Margo said, sipping her beer.
“I don’t know.” Lilian was unable to take her eyes off Hawk. He stood there, back ramrod straight, face set in the same mask of contempt. It was like watching him retreat within himself as he talked to his father.
Curious, she glanced around for the queen. It didn’t take long to find her. With the relaxed nature of after hours, she was holding a small court at one of The Grog’s largest tables. Laughing and enjoying herself with a crowd of nobility, peasants, Vikings, and pirates.
Her eyes went back to the dark corner where Marcus had sequestered Hawk. The memory of how uncomfortable her last conversation with Marcus had been was burned in her mind. And she couldn’t stand seeing Hawk in that same position.
“I’m going to go check on him,” she said, sliding out of the picnic table.
Margo and Logan spun on her, eyes wide in surprise.
“You’re leaving?” Margo asked, looking down at her untouched beer.
“I’ll be right back.” Lilian offered a reassuring smile before hustling through the crowd.
She didn’t know exactly what she was doing. Hawk didn’t need anyone to check in on him. This was his dad after all, and while she got the sense that things weren’t great between them, Marcus wasn’t abusive.
An asshole, sure. But Hawk could easily match it with his own level of asshole.
So, why was he standing there, nodding with a glazed look in his eye?
Her approach caught Hawk’s attention before Marcus’s. His eyes widened, as if surprised to see her existing in the same space as his father. Whatever he’d been saying, he trailed off mid-sentence and stopped.
Marcus kept talking, though. “Today did not go well. These actors are a joke. We hire authentic impersonators, and their captain is waddling around on crutches! Their costumes were mediocre at best. If I’m offering an authentic experience, it needs to live up to that.
Next year, we need to reconsider the contract. Hawk? Are you listening?”
He was talking about Logan. Lilian’s heart sank as she realized that he was railing against the pirate actors. Logan was a prick, but he and his band put on a good show. No one complained about them. Well, no one except the king, apparently.
Did Logan know the king felt this way? Was that why he acted like a prick sometimes?
“And the knights as well. Next season they need to undergo more training. This is an elite squad and an honor. We can’t be taking people off the street!”
Another pointed comment. This time, Lilian imagined David. Sweet, good-natured David, who’d accidentally fallen into the role of a knight and enjoyed every minute of working at the faire.
It was a brief peek into the everyday conversations between Hawk and his father. And she didn’t like it.
“Hawk!” Marcus’s voice trailed off as he realized Hawk wasn’t paying attention.
He turned to follow his son’s line of sight until his cold eyes found Lilian.
It had been a while since she’d been caught in the stare of Marcus Carlisle.
She’d forgotten how oddly handsome the man was.
Even dressed in the ruffles and layers of historical Tudor clothing, his classically handsome features were obvious.
The only thing that made her pause was the scrutinizing look in his gaze.
It raked over her, not in a sexual way, but in a quick assessment of whether she was worth his time or not.
Apparently, the answer was not.
“Yes?” he asked impatiently.
“Sorry.” She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, but she refused to offer a smile to him.
“What do you need?” Marcus snapped.
Panic seized her as Hawk sent the same questioning look her way. “Um…” She glanced back at the lights and music behind them, then back to the dark corner the two men had hidden themselves in. “The queen needs her king… my lord,” she added clumsily at the end.
Marcus’s eyes narrowed into icy slits. He didn’t even waver at the mention of his wife. “Did she ask for me?”
“Well, no,” Lilian admitted, “but does she have to? Everyone is celebrating a successful day. Won’t our king come and celebrate with us?”
“We’re working here,” he said with no other inflection, as if that should be enough.
“Dad,” Hawk interjected, the word coming out as an exasperated sigh. “Why don’t you go join Mom. I’ll handle everything.”
Marcus looked at his son, brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t want us to sit on this.”
“I’ll handle it, but Lilian is right. Nothing is going to get done tonight.”