Chapter 11
Sebastian: A Second Warning
Sebastian frowned at the interruption, and his frown grew deeper when he saw the newcomers.
He’d met Damien Lee at a pub a few months before and quickly come to realize that it was where he spent most of his time.
Donatella hadn’t been with him that time, but from the scuttlebutt, she often accompanied him.
The previous night…or perhaps that morning…had apparently been no different, because the two were clearly inebriated. Donatella could barely stand and was leaning heavily on her brother. Damien was carrying a green glass bottle, which he took a swig of as he stumbled into the room.
“Heeey…whoareyou?” he slurred, blinking blearily at Sebastian.
“I’m Sebastian, and this is my…friend, Lucy,” he said, frowning at the inebriated pair.
“Your friend?” Donatella asked. Somehow her voice came out as less slurred than her brother’s, though she was swaying more. “What, did the emperor get a two for one special?” She reached for Damien’s bottle.
Anger flared in Sebastian’s chest. “We’re not prostitutes, you fools,” he said, yanking the bottle out of both of their reaches. “We’re your assistants for the competition.”
Damien blinked again at him. “Competition?” he repeated. “What competition?”
“Oh, for…” Lucy threw her hands in the air. “They’re too drunk to carry a conversation, much less design an outfit for the emperor.”
Sebastian shook his head. “We’re going to lose the first round,” he realized.
Lucy shook her head. “No, we’re not. You’re going to design the best blasted outfit anyone’s ever seen at a street fair.”
“But…” Sebastian looked around. “I can’t—”
“You can, and you have to. Look at them.” She gestured to where the two designers were flirting with their reflections in the mirror.
“They’re in no condition to work, and, unless you have a spell to sober someone up quickly that I don’t know about, they will not be for quite some time.
If we don’t want to fail this assignment completely, take the reins. ”
Sebastian sighed. “Alright. But just for this challenge. After that, they take over.”
“Fine,” Lucy said, taking both designers by the arms and dragging them from the room with surprising strength. “I’m going to go take these two to lie down somewhere quiet and then I’ll be right back to help you with set up.”
Sebastian watched her go with something akin to fondness in his eyes.
When they were courting, he’d loved it when she took charge, when she decided that something needed changing and she was going to be the one to do it.
He’d been afraid, over the last two days, that something or someone had driven that momentum out of her, but now, he could see, it was still somewhere inside her.
He just wished he knew how to bring it out again.
He focused on the task in front of him. Scissors could go on that shelf there. Fabric would go into the cabinet in the corner. Needles and thread—
“Well, now, it looks like you’ve fallen on your feet, soldier boy.
” His head shot up at the distinctly familiar voice and his frown turned into a scowl.
Thaddeus Wilde was leaning against the doorway, his arms folded across his barrel-shaped chest. His eyes seemed to glow orange as he studied the room. “Very nice. Very nice, indeed.”
“What do you want, Wilde?” Sebastian snapped, his voice coming out as a snarl that would have been more appropriate for a werewolf than a fairy.
Wilde shrugged, still feigning nonchalance. “Nothing much. Just checking and making sure you hadn’t forgotten our last conversation.”
At his words, Sebastian’s mind snapped back to that horrible day.
∞∞∞
“Good show, my lord!” Sebastian used a towel to mop the sweat from his brow. “You’ll put on an excellent performance for those fops at Farraday.”
“Don’t waste your breath on compliments,” Oliver said, running his hand over his face, which had darkened at his friend’s words. “You know they’re wasted on me. Save them for the lovely lady Lucy.”
Now it was Sebastian’s face that darkened. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Oliver cackled. The man who never laughed, who was always brooding over his ruined looks, his cousin’s health, the state of the dukedom, cackled at him.
“Sure you don’t. You haven’t been besotted with her from the moment you met her.
You know, if you were any more taken with her, then you’d have already proposed to her. ”
At his words, Sebastian ducked his head. Oliver’s eyes widened. “You’re planning to propose?”
“Maybe,” Sebastian mumbled. “Or, at least, I’ve been considering it. Mum gave me my grandmother’s ring and I’ve checked to make sure it will fit. But I haven’t really—”
“You’re going to propose.” Oliver’s tone was final. “You never do things by half, my friend. If you’ve already got the ring and you’re testing it to make sure it fits, you’re going to do it. The only question is when.”
“After I’ve talked to her father,” Sebastian confessed. “I know it’s old fashioned of me, but…Father thinks it isn’t necessary. That alone makes it clear to me I should do it.”
“Do you think he’ll give his blessing?” Oliver wondered.
“I don’t know. I suppose I won’t know until I actually do it.” Sebastian wiped his face off and grimaced. “I’m going to make a trip to Moonwood Grove next week for the sole purpose of talking to him.”
“Do you want company on your trip?” Oliver patted his friend’s shoulder. “I’m not much of a conversationalist, but I could at least keep a few eyes off of you.”
Oliver’s offer truly touched Sebastian; he knew how much his friend hated being in the spotlight. “Thank you, but no. I think this is something I have to do myself.”
Oliver nodded. “Very well. Let me know if you change your mind.”
Sebastian slung his arm around his neck. “I will. I—”
“Excuse me. Which one of you is Sir Sebastian?” A tall, brawny man with wild, dark hair and even darker eyes entered the room. He openly studied the two young men. “I’m going to guess the ugly brute with the scars.”
“Watch your tongue, sir,” Sebastian growled. “You’re speaking of the Duke of Moyar.”
“It’s fine, Sebastian,” Oliver said under his breath. “I can assure you, I’ve heard worse.”
The man turned his gaze to Sebastian. “Oh, you’re the man? Not what I was expecting. Can fairies even touch an iron blade?”
“Not all blades are made from iron,” Sebastian snapped. Inwardly, he smacked himself. This man had gotten under his skin with only a few words. He needed to have more control over his reactions.
Oliver stepped in front of him. “And who exactly are you?” he demanded.
“Thaddeus Wilde, your grace. If you’ll excuse me, I need to have a word with Sir Sebastian,” the man said, brushing Oliver aside so that he was standing in front of the fairy.
Sebastian threw back his shoulders. He and the man were around the same height, but he was a little broader. If it came down to it, he was certain he could take him in a fight.
Oliver seemed to read his mind. Once again, he put himself between Wilde and Sebastian and glared at him.
“Anything you have to say to my guard, you can say in front of me.” Though a good six inches shorter, he commanded a certain presence, causing the other man to regard him with something Sebastian couldn’t quite name.
“Alright. I was just trying not to embarrass your friend,” Wilde sneered. He gestured to one of the benches lining the room. “Won’t the two of you sit down?”
“We’ll stand,” Oliver said, taking a step back so that he was standing next to Sebastian. “What are you doing here, Mr. Wilde?”
Wilde looked from one man to the other, before he spoke. “I’m one of the betas from the Moonwalker pack. I assume you haven’t heard of it—”
“You’d assume incorrectly. You’re from Lucy’s pack,” Sebastian said.
“Of course she told you about the pack. The little fool,” Wilde said, shaking his head. “Well, no matter. It will make this next part a little easier.” He narrowed his eyes at Sebastian. “I come with a message from our alpha, Romulan Savage.”
“That would be Lucy’s father, correct?” Oliver asked.
“Yes.” The man grunted around gritted teeth. “Alpha Savage has sent me to tell you that your advances on his daughter are unwelcome. You’re to stop your courtship with her immediately and not to contact her. If you refuse, you will face the wrath of the Moonwalkers, as well as our laws.”
Sebastian’s heart leaped into his throat. “What?”
“No werewolf from our pack can be seen consorting with a fairy.” Wilde spat the word out like it was poison. “Especially not a fairy with such a…ignominious heritage.”
“But—”
“I’ll be going back to Moonwood Grove tonight. If you contact her again, you won’t be facing me. You’ll be facing our alpha and his top men,” Wilde said. “Do you understand?”
Struck mute by the man’s message, Sebastian could only nod. Wilde studied him for a second longer, before turning on his heel and walking away, as if he hadn’t just destroyed everything that Sebastian had ever hoped for.
∞∞∞
“What are you doing here, Wilde?” Sebastian asked, not looking at the man. He tried to focus on the bright arrays of threads and fabric before him, praying that doing so would make him leave sooner.
“Oh, so you remember me? I wasn’t sure you did. You’ve obviously forgotten what I told you in the training room two years ago,” Wilde said, sauntering over to him.
“I didn’t forget. Circumstances changed,” Sebastian said. “I have no intention of courting Lucy, but I needed her help. My employer is compensating her well for that help, so I don’t see why it should concern you or anyone else in your pack, least of all her father.”
“It concerns me because you’re communicating with Lucy-lo-lu, even when the pack expressly warned you not to,” Wilde snarled. “Her father will not stand for this slight—”
“Her father will be glad of the money she’s getting that helps fund the care for his mother-in-law and daughter,” Sebastian snapped.
“Money that she’s earning honestly, rather than—” He stopped himself.
He was certain who had put Lucy up to stealing from Oliver.
And until he knew for sure, he couldn’t take the risk of blabbing about it to people he neither knew nor liked.
Wilde scowled. “You always were a pretentious little—”
“Careful, Wilde,” Sebastian warned. “I’m here with the emperor’s permission. Can the same be said for you?”
The werewolf froze, not meeting his eye. Sebastian tried to fight off a grin. No, the werewolf was not supposed to be in the palace. He’d have to mention this little tidbit to the castle guards. Maybe—
“Well, no matter. As soon as this job, whatever it is, is over, Lucy must return to the Grove. If she doesn’t, she will face extreme consequences,” Wilde warned. “As will you. This is your only warning, fairy-boy.”
“Get out.” Sebastian spoke through gritted teeth. “Leave immediately, or I will call the guards. And you can explain to your Alpha why he has to come get you out of the dungeons.”
Wilde shook his head and stomped out of the room. “You remember what you said, fairy. Lucy isn’t for you. She’s promised to someone else.”
Once the werewolf was gone, Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief and put down the sewing scissors he hadn’t realized he’d picked up.
After taking a deep breath, he focused back in on the task, though, in his heart, he wished he could say that the man was wrong, that Lucy could stay with him after this mission.
But no, there was no point in hoping. The Moonwalker pack would not have it.
And he would not try to fool himself into believing otherwise.