CHAPTER 38
Winterwood was a palace within a palace.
It was believed to have been built by the daughter of winter, but no one knew with certainty, for it was made during a blizzard, and when the long, furious storm finally calmed, it was there, fully finished, sparkling with the snowy mortar of winter.
It was there that the first queen of Danu was born.
Over the millennia it had grown, inching outward century after century, but it always remained the warm heart at the center of the sprawling palace, the safe haven in times of storms, whatever kind they might be.
Because of its status as the inner sanctum of the palace, Winterwood was chosen as the best place to host a dinner for a king who was still presumed to be a prisoner of Fomoria. A tucked-away place of safety—and secrecy.
Tyghan was the first to arrive, other than Ivy, who had just come from checking on the menu in the kitchen. “Come see the dining room,” she said, leading the way.
Even Tyghan, who was not easily impressed, had to pause and admire it.
Ivy had brought the outside in. Moss and ferns lined the table, with gleaming dishes and silver nestled among them.
Glass candlesticks rose halfway to the ceiling, flickering like stars above.
Garlands of wildflowers fell from the backs of the chairs, and in each corner of the room, a forest of birches rose up and disappeared into the ceiling.
He had vague memories of such extravagant tables when he was a child—before his parents died.
“The chef and I worked together on this,” Ivy said proudly. “Beautiful, no?”
Tyghan nodded. “Very.” He imagined Bristol’s eyes lighting up when she saw it. And if this didn’t pull the grumpiness out of Cael, nothing would. “Ivy, I’ve been thinking. About Melizan’s wedding.”
“The binding ritual? Yes, I have it on the schedule. Day after tomorrow. Fifteen minutes, correct?”
“Maybe a little longer than that. Some food and drink for whoever shows up? And could you throw in a special thing or two to make it more of a celebration?”
A wide grin lit Ivy’s face. “Wise move, Your Majesty. I’ll take care of it.”
“And when do you think there will be another wedding?” he asked.
She coyly tweaked her head to the side. “Are you trying to tell me about one I should add to the schedule?”
“No! No. I was talking about you and Cully.”
She frowned, twisting her hands in front of her, and finally sighed. “I’m pixie, he’s elven. You know my parents.”
“I do. But you’re a grown woman, Ivy. Is their permission really necessary?”
“In their world, it is, but—” She smiled, and a small laugh escaped through her lips. “No, actually. It’s not.” She turned and left to consult with the chef, her wings fluttering behind her as she went.
Julia and Hollis were the first guests to arrive, waved past the guards by Esmee, who was approving all the guests for the small dinner party.
They swept into the grand salon, their fancy shoes tapping on the red marble floor.
Tyghan turned at the sound of their footsteps, and Julia couldn’t help but register the surprise on his face.
“You did say it was formal?” she said, hesitantly.
“Yes. Of course,” Tyghan answered. “You both look very nice. I guess I won’t be able to demand any laps.”
“Probably not,” Julia replied, noting he was getting better at light conversation, entirely thanks to Bristol.
She and Hollis both took a shameless spin, showing off their last-minute finds of the day.
Julia was dressed in a black and silver striped taffeta gown that whispered in the nicest way as she walked.
Hollis wore a slinky pink gown that matched her hair perfectly, and a black satin cape shimmered on her shoulders.
“Can I get you both something to drink?” Tyghan asked.
Hollis shot Julia a sideways glance. The king is serving us? Julia noticed the lack of servants, no doubt being kept to a minimum because of Cael. The fewer who knew he was back, the better. Julia kept her request simple. “Some Bordeaux, if you have it?”
“And I’ll have a Pink Lady with a twist of lime,” Hollis said. Tyghan looked at her blankly, and she laughed. “Just kidding. I’ll have the same as Julia.”
He poured and handed them their drinks, glancing toward the foyer. “The others are coming along?”
“Don’t worry, Bristol will be here,” Hollis said. “A little late, maybe—she had a long shopping list. But you’ll only be stuck with us for a few minutes.”
He smiled sheepishly and lifted his glass. “Cheers, ladies.”
Julia remembered the last time she was in Winterwood with Tyghan.
He had skulked in the corner, barely able to contain his worry for Bristol after her throat had been cut.
He had become fiercely protective of her since that encounter.
We are completely committed to each other.
Julia hoped Bristol was right. Love was fierce, but also fragile.
It could be destroyed in infinite ways. She thought of her own lost loves, the sorrowful tugs that still wove through her heart.
Even the strongest lion was at the mercy of a hunter.
Footsteps clamored through the foyer as Sashka, Avery, and Rose stampeded in, laughing and twirling in their splashy gowns. They said quick hellos and waved Tyghan off, helping themselves to the bar.
Tyghan glanced again at the foyer.
“Remember, Your Majesty,” Julia said softly, “Bristol is always last to show at evening festivities.”
“Am I that obvious?”
“In some matters, yes.” She motioned to the sofas. “Shall we sit while we wait for the others?”
Avery and Rose immediately began sharing stories from their day in the city: the troll they spotted on the banks just below the bridge, the winding streets they discovered, their shopping steals.
Tyghan perked up. “You stole merchandise?”
“No,” Sashka said, like he hadn’t been listening. “Steals are deals.”
“Then why not just call them deals?”
“You don’t go shopping much, do you?” Rose said, and went on to tell him about a gift she got for Melizan and Cosette’s wedding. The conversation took off without him as the others shared their finds.
Tyghan finally intervened. “Gifts aren’t usually part of a binding ritual.”
“Well, they are where we come from!”
He leaned back, curiosity sparking in his eyes as he took a sip of his whiskey. “What are some other mortal wedding traditions?”
They eagerly supplied him with a long list, from proposals on bended knee, to rings and thrown bouquets. Seeing his confusion, Hollis added, “And of course the taller of the couple is required to give the other a back rub every day for the rest of their lives.”
“Interesting,” he replied, guessing he was being played. “I’ve never heard of these things. I’ll have to ask Quin if he knows about those back rubs. I hear he’s seeing someone taller than him.”
Avery spat her mouthful of drink into her glass as she broke into laughter. They all laughed, enjoying the company of their usually stern Knight Commander, engaged and relaxed. But it didn’t last. More footsteps sounded in the foyer, and Tyghan turned, expectant.
It was Cael, who was slowly shedding his veil of invisibility.
A small oh escaped from Rose’s lips, and Julia squeezed her hand to keep her from saying more.
Cael was barely the same man they had tied to the back of August just days ago.
Julia was sure his royal coat was adding bulk to his thin frame, but his cheeks had color back in them and his light brown hair was attractively trimmed and groomed.
His chestnut eyes were bright and focused—on them.
And the collar that had prevented his magic was gone.
Hollis rose to her feet, not out of respect but so the knife tucked in her cape was more accessible. Julia had no weapon on her, but her magic was fully tuned and sharp now, ready to respond. Her lioness claws itched for release.
Tyghan watched the squad follow Hollis’s example, rising to their feet one by one. But they stood more like a silent, united wall than subjects offering respect, and he wondered if this forced apology had been a good idea after all. He stood too, ready to intervene if necessary.
Cael offered a slight bow of his head. “Good evening, ladies, but please, don’t get up.
I’m the one who should rise in your presence.
” He looked down for a few seconds as if distressed before continuing.
“Our first meeting was unfortunate, and I would like to make this one better. But proper introductions first. I am your humble and indebted servant, Cael Trénallis.”
He immediately proceeded to greet each of the dinner guests, respectfully lifting their hands in turn as he bowed his head, working his way down the line with phrases like my purest pleasure, at your service, with humblest gratitude.
When he finished, Tyghan let out a relieved breath.
His brother had his charm on full display.
He only hoped it would last. After introductions, Cael stepped back and offered a heartfelt apology.
“Again, I sincerely apologize for my appalling behavior. There was no excuse for it, except that I was dreadfully jaded and disoriented after my long imprisonment. Thank you for risking your lives on a sour curd like me. I will forever be indebted to you.”
The squad was speechless for a moment. Avery’s mouth hung open, and a furrow lined Hollis’s brow. But Julia’s eyes narrowed, and her cat pupils contracted. “We’re honored to serve the Danu Nation, and accept your apology, Your Highness.”
Your Highness. Testing him. Julia knew royal protocols. Tyghan saw Cael’s shoulders pull back at the slight. Though he was not the official king of Danu at the moment, Eris and Madame Chastain had continued to call him Your Majesty as a way to soften the blow and avoid further conflict.
But Cael made no correction. He only nodded and said, “The Danu Nation thanks you all for your service.”
Julia nodded. Cael apparently passed the test—at least this one.
The dining room doors opened, and Ivy invited them in.
Sashka whistled at the magical opulence, and the others craned their heads in all directions as they took their seats, whispering like they were in an enchanted forest. Cael smiled and nodded toward Ivy, approving the table settings and décor.
But as he took his seat, Tyghan hesitated and glanced once more toward the foyer.
Cael noticed the empty seat. “It seems we’re missing one of our guests. Where’s Bristol?”
“A few minutes late is all,” Tyghan said. “Ivy, could you send someone to check on her?” But as Ivy headed for the door, they all heard a rapid rush of footsteps.
It was Bristol at last. She barreled into the dining room, breathless, and with a sudden stop she braced herself at the end the table. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
She hadn’t changed. Her dress was torn, and her hair was a wild swirl of tangles. A dark smudge of dirt ran across her cheek, and a shopping bag still dangled from her arm.
Tyghan stood, his chair screeching out behind him. “What happened? Where have you been?”
Between labored breaths, she said, “I was with Kormick.”