Chapter Seven
Braden
King Fionn drew me toward my chair and saw me seated before he sat down. I reached for my glass, but he pulled my arm down and shook his head.
“Go easy on the cream. Pure cream is rich and potent for Faeries or even halflings.”
I was going to argue with Fionn some more—I think we both enjoyed it, actually—but then more food and drink started to arrive.
There were so many lavish dishes I could barely believe it.
All manner of soups and cheeses, followed by more of the lovely Goblin fruit.
And then the main courses arrived—braised leeks simmered in wine and spices, a delicious looking cabbage dish that I later learned was a “tatin,” featuring caramelized layers with gruyère; a whole roasted cauliflower, basted with spices and dill, and a classic dish in the style of the Franks.
Fionn called it “ratatouille” and it was fashioned into a stunning spiral.
It looked too good to eat. There were also quiches and salads and so much more—things I didn’t learn the names of until much later.
The king was served first, of course, and then me, and I eagerly took a little of everything that was offered to me. It all looked so delicious, and I was enjoying it until I noticed Fionn was watching me with a little smile on his lips.
“You don’t have to eat so quickly, you know. No one will take it away from you.”
I was embarrassed but barely slowed down. The slice of cake I was eating at the time had a sweet vanilla flavor and was covered with a cream sauce. It was the best thing I’d ever had in my life.
“I remind you to go easy on the cream,” Fionn advised me. “It will make you drunk if you have too much.”
“How in the world could it do that?”
He simply smiled and turned away to speak to his captain, who had taken his place right behind him, so I shoveled more cake in my mouth while he wasn’t looking.
I had, in fact, begun to feel warmer and a little bit dizzy, so after having the last bite on my plate, I reluctantly declined another piece.
I told myself it was the idea of Fionn having to widen the doors like he’d teased me about earlier that was the deciding factor, rather than any fear of “getting drunk.” It was cream, for God’s sake.
But I had heard the old stories, and I did have to wonder if any of them could have been true.
People said you could put out a dish of cream to gain the good will of the Faeries—but that you shouldn’t put out too much, because it would intoxicate them.
If my reaction to the cream frosting, not to mention the glasses of cream I’d had made me a little dizzy, then what did that say about me?
It would make me one of them, wouldn’t it?
By at least half. And I wasn’t quite ready to admit that my mother’s ravings could have had some truth in them, and that I was indeed a half Faery, or a halfling, like Fionn sometimes called me.
When Fionn turned toward me to lean over and tell me it was getting late and that we should retire, I think I’d dozed off a little, because it felt as if a lot of time had passed without me noticing it.
Fionn urged me again, saying no one would leave until we did, so I jumped to my feet.
I was shocked to find that I got immediately dizzy.
I had to hold onto the table for a moment to get my balance.
Fionn’s mother, the queen and her daughter Bridget, came over to kiss Fionn on both cheeks, but rather pointedly ignored me.
As they left the room, I saw Bridget gaze at me curiously.
She looked as if she wanted to say something, but her mother tugged on her arm and people began to crowd around us, so she had to move on.
I looked for Fionn’s stepmother and his brothers, but they’d already been swallowed up by the crowd.
As we left the dining hall, I had to lean on Fionn’s arm more heavily than usual as we went up the stairs to our bedchambers.
Instead of taking me to mine, however, he turned toward his door and opened it to usher me inside. I wondered for a moment why he was taking me to his room before realizing—and I must truly have been drunk not to have done so before—that he might be expecting to have sex with me.
I went a little weak in the knees, then, because I wasn’t sure I could go through with this.
It wasn’t that I wasn’t attracted to him.
I’d been wildly attracted from the first moment I saw him.
But I had been raised in a society that believed two men being together in such a way was a sin and an abomination, and I had suppressed my attraction to young men all my life.
And even though I had rejected almost all of the Church’s thinking long ago, old habits died hard.
I turned to look at him as I stood there by the fireplace, and he must have seen the hesitation in my eyes. He had been shrugging off his jacket and taking off his tunic when he’d sensed my regard, and he hesitated a moment before he went back to undressing.
“Is there a problem, mo stór?”
Was that another endearment? I desperately wanted to know what it meant.
“What is that? Those words—Mo stór? What does it mean?”
“It’s an old Gaelic phrase. Roughly translated, it means ‘my treasure.’”
I was a little startled by that. I suppose it could be taken two ways.
As a sweet endearment or literally, as in the fact that from what he’d told me about all of this, my father was giving away a kingdom to get someone to take me as a royal consort.
He’d never said so, but I wondered if that meant I was going to be his consort.
I was still letting that sink in when his next words made me jump a little.
“Take off your clothes, Braden. It’s time for bed.”
“W-what?”
Could I do that? Should I do that? It was a hell of a time to wonder, but in my defense, I’d been rushed into this, with little say in the matter.
My mind had been fully occupied so far. I liked to say all the time that I was a grown man, though, and I felt as if I was.
I’d been on my own for a long time now, since my grandmother had passed away.
I wasn’t in the mortal realm anymore, and I was beyond attracted to this beautiful man.
“You want to make love to me?” I asked.
“I do. I think we should see if you like sex with a man before we go any further, don’t you think?”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then your room adjoins mine. I would never force myself on you, mo chroi.”
“Oh.”
“Because I was teasing you earlier. The man you are to marry will be… me. If you agree.”
“Oh my God.” I was so shocked my mouth dropped open. Even though I’d just wondered if he wanted my father’s kingdom. He closed my mouth with his finger under my chin.
“You can refuse me, if you don’t want this. But if you do, your father will simply choose someone else for you. I’ll do my best to help you, as I’m the one who brought you to Otherworld. You need to tell me if you don’t want this. I’ll honor your wishes.”
“N-no!” I said, taking a step closer to him. “I didn’t know you were the one I was supposed to marry. Of course, I’ll marry you. If-if you want me to.”
He looked surprised, but I meant it. Maybe it was simply a case of the devil you know, but I’d been stunned by his good looks and his strong attitude and attracted to him and infuriated by him since the first moment I saw him. He filled my thoughts and made my heart dance.
And if I were honest, though I’d never been able to admit my attraction to other men ever before—not even to myself—the idea of being with someone like Fionn excited me.
I didn’t want anyone else, and never would, despite how he was with me sometimes.
How relentlessly he teased me and flirted with me, but on the other hand I simply couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.
Not once I’d seen Fionn. The idea of being his…
his consort made me feel fluttery inside.
I couldn’t imagine being without him now that I knew I had an option.
“I’m sorry. I-I didn’t understand before. You should have trusted me enough to tell me what was happening from the beginning.”
He looked down into my eyes, and I could see his softening. “You’re right. I thought it would frighten you too much, but I can see now that wasn’t what frightened you at all. I’m sorry, Braden. I’ll try to do better in the future. Can you forgive me?”
I nodded, wondering who this was and what he’d done with King Fionn. I slipped my hand into his. I had nobody else in this place, in this entire realm, and I needed to trust someone badly. I decided it would have to be him, and I hoped he wouldn’t disappoint me.
He actually smiled at me then as if he’d read my chaotic thoughts and squeezed my hand. “Tomorrow morning we’ll see the priest. Don’t worry…it will all be over in a few minutes and then we’ll have the rest of our lives.”
It was all moving way too quickly, and it made me feel a little dizzy. Maybe it was time for me to do as I pleased. And part of that would be for me to sleep in the same bed as this glorious man. Except—it wouldn’t be sleeping, would it?
I began slowly taking my tunic off over my head. I couldn’t see any way out of sleeping with the king, and I didn’t want to anyway.
I knew he didn’t love me obviously—nor did I love him.
Not really. But this had nothing to do with love.
I’d only known him a couple of days now and had engaged in almost no meaningful conversation with him in that time.
This was all about him taking possession and staking his claim.
Maybe a little about obligation and keeping to his bargains too, but I didn’t think there was anything more than that.
Not on his part anyway. As for mine—that was a different story.
I could have lingered a lifetime over how beautiful he was, with his porcelain skin, and his mass of black hair, thick and soft under my fingers, and those incredible eyes, as richly green as emeralds.