Chapter Seven
As the courtroom emptied, Sol cleared his throat to gain the attention of the infamous Fey holding Ellysetta. “My Lord Feyreisen? Er . . . Your Majesty?”
Lavender eyes snapped open, bright and fierce. Sol felt his knees tremble, but he stood his ground. “I am Sol Baristani, sir, the father of that young woman you’re holding so closely. It would make me quite a bit happier if you would release her.”
“Sol . . .” Lauriana muttered a barely audible warning.
“Ah, the father.” Anger skated across the Tairen Soul’s face. “The man who would sell my shei’tani to the rultshart with the filthy, roving mouth and disrespectful hands.”
Sol drew in a sharp breath. “Despite what you obviously believe, I love my daughter. I urge you not to cast judgment when you know nothing of me or the reasons for my actions.”
“Papa?” Ellie emerged from the folds of the Tairen Soul’s cloak.
Her hair was mussed. A few of her curls had won freedom from their confinement and now dangled in springy ringlets from their anchor pins.
Her green eyes were heavy-lidded and slumberous, though as she glanced from Sol to Rain, her gaze sharpened considerably. “My Lord Feyreisen?”
The Tairen Soul’s expression relaxed, and he reached out to wind one loose flame-colored coil around his index finger.
He rubbed the curl with his thumb, a tender expression warming his eyes.
“I would never bring nor allow harm to my shei’tani’s family,” he announced, and his fingers set to work on the intimate task of putting Ellysetta’s escaped curls back in order.
“To do so would be to harm her. You may speak your mind, Master Baristani, without fear of reprisal.” He tucked the last ringlet in place and secured it with a pin.
The Tairen Soul’s knuckle lightly caressed Ellie’s cheek while his gaze met and held Sol’s. Sol understood. The boundaries had just been established. Though Sol was Ellie’s father, the Tairen Soul was her mate and he claimed the right to protect and guide her.
Sol expelled a weary breath. “Den Brodson isn’t the husband I would have chosen for Ellie, but once he marked her—with or without her consent—she would have been shunned here in Celieria had I not signed the betrothal.
I made what I considered to be the right decision under the circumstances, to protect both Ellie and the rest of my family. ”
“To protect her, you sell her to a man she despises? A man who takes advantage of her innocence to trap her into a union she does not want?”
“And what of you?” Sol retorted. “Your actions are certainly not beyond reproach. I don’t know how things are done in the Fading Lands, but here in Celieria a man of honor does not approach an innocent girl and overwhelm her with intimate attentions the likes of which no decent, unmarried young woman should be subjected to. ”
“Ah—” Rain’s lips curved in a mockery of a smile. “Then I should have come into your house to ‘overwhelm her with intimate attentions,’ as you allowed the butcher’s son to do.”
“Don’t twist my words.”
“They are untwisted. I merely spoke them back to you.”
Ellie laid her hand on the Tairen Soul’s arm. “Stop,” she told him quietly. “He is my father. Do not mock him. In my own ignorance, I have shamed him not once but twice.”
The Tairen Soul took her chin between his fingers and compelled her to meet his eyes. “What is between us shames no one, shei’tani. And any shame brought by the mark forced upon you lies with your parents and the butcher’s offspring, not with you. You are bright and shining.”
Despite Sol’s distress, he couldn’t mistake the astonishing gentleness in the fierce man’s face. If Sol had been able to choose a husband for his daughter, he would not have hesitated to choose one who looked at her with such tenderness.
The Tairen Soul raised his other hand to brush a wave of bright hair away from Ellysetta’s face.
“Where is this mark that has caused such trouble?” When Ellie tugged her chemise aside, he bent his head and frowned at the dark spot on her skin.
“Unattractive custom,” he murmured. “Why blemish beauty to claim it?”
“I’m not beautiful,” she protested.
“You are to me.” He raised his head and rapped out a command in Feyan that brought the red-shrouded shei’dalin and her mate to his side.
When the shei’dalin reached out a hand, Ellie shrank away from her touch.
“Do not be afraid, shei’tani,” Rain said.
“Marissya will only remove the mark. Like she healed your hand. There is nothing to be afraid of.”
“She won’t try to pry into my mind? You promise?”
“Nei, she will not. I promise.” Black brows arched. “Would you rather keep the mark? I had thought it distressed you and that you would be pleased to be rid of it.”
“It does distress me. I would like it removed, if she can do it. But nothing more than that. No . . . probing.” Ellie stared at the red-veiled face beside her with trepidation.
“I was wrong to trespass before, Ellysetta Baristani,” the shei’dalin said.
“I will not do so again. You have my oath as Celieria’s Truthspeaker.
May I touch you to remove this mark?” Marissya waited for Ellie’s nod before proceeding.
Even then, Ellie flinched as the shei’dalin’s fingers touched her throat.
“Peace, little sister,” Marissya murmured.
“You will feel heat and tingling where I touch. I call upon your body to unmake the stain on your flesh, to break it down and expel it.” Her thumb brushed over Ellysetta’s collarbone, removing the dry dust that was all that remained of Den Brodson’s attempt to claim a Tairen Soul’s mate.
“There. The mark is gone as though it were never there.”
Ellie touched her throat, rubbing the spot that still tingled. Her eyes widened in surprise when Rain produced a mirror out of thin air and presented it to her.
“It is made of Spirit,” he told her, “but the reflection is true.”
“I see,” she said, though she didn’t really.
Understanding the engineering nuances of magic was far beyond her realm of comprehension.
“Thank you.” She lifted the mirror and ran her fingers over the spot where Den had bitten her.
The mark was gone. She released a breath, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from her. “Thank you, Lady Marissya.”
“Sha vel’mei. I am glad to be of service to the Feyreisa.”
Rain turned back to Sol. “You were chastising me. You may continue.”
Sol shook his head. His anger, justified though it had been, was gone.
“My point,” he said wearily, “is that you are a stranger to me. And you have sent other strangers—lethally armed ones at that—into my home to work gods only know what magical mischief. You appear to care for my daughter, but that doesn’t excuse your behavior.
You summoned my family to a public forum and put our most private family matters on display for the titillation of the masses, including things better saved for the privacy of a bedchamber.
And you’ve done it all without having the common decency to present yourself to me as any honorable man would have done when seeking to win my daughter’s hand. ”
After a moment of silence, the Tairen Soul bowed his head. To Sol’s surprise, twin flags of color stained the man’s cheeks. Who would have thought the king of the Fey could be put to blush? It made Sol like him a bit better.
“The father of my shei’tani is right to upbraid me for failing to introduce myself and request his blessing.
Even in the Fading Lands, a man must approach his mate’s family before he begins the courtship.
My only excuse is that the bond caught me unawares and has left me .
. . unsettled.” The Tairen Soul grimaced, and Sol had the feeling there was a great deal left unsaid on that subject.
“As for the Fey I sent into your home, they are there to protect Ellysetta and your family. I am not without enemies, and they might do you harm to hurt me through her. With your permission, Master Baristani, I would introduce you to the warriors who protect your daughter.” At Rain’s wave, the five Fey who served in his truemate’s quintet came closer.
“This is Kieran vel Solande.” He gestured to the brown-haired, blue-eyed Fey who always seemed to be smiling.
“He is the son of Marissya and Dax, and as you may have already learned, he enjoys a good joke. There are none among all the Fey who can wield Earth better than he.” Four hundred fifty years old, Kieran was the last child born to the Fey people.
Though he had only recently completed the final level of the Dance of Knives and earned the right to guard a shei’tani outside the Fading Lands, he was so strong in Earth, Air, Spirit, and Fire that Rain had not hesitated to appoint him to Ellysetta’s quintet.
“This is Kiel vel Tomar.” The lean, blond-haired, blue-eyed Fey bowed low with a supple grace that exceeded even Fey standards.
“He is a master of Water magic. He likes small children, and they usually like him, though it appears your Lorelle may have a different opinion.” The black eye and scratches Kiel had earned yesterday had healed considerably thanks to the natural Fey recuperative powers, but he still bore the marks of Lorelle’s displeasure.
“These two are Rowan and Adrial vel Arquinas.” Rain gestured to the two black-haired, brown-eyed Fey who closely resembled each other. “They are brothers. Rowan is a master of Fire, and Adrial is unbeatable in Air.” Both were also strongly gifted in Earth.
“Twins?” Lauriana asked.
“Nei. There are seventy-three years between them.” Her look of surprise amused him. “That makes them almost cradle-friends by Fey standards.”