Lord of the Hunt (14 page)

In that heartbeat, he understood why Taryn’s mother had left Court to be with her husband and why she wouldn’t return without him. Why she’d rather die. Love.

Taryn had taken his heart while he wasn’t looking and he hadn’t even realized it was missing…more worryingly, he didn’t want it back. He stopped walking and placed his hand over where his heart beat. Had it really been that easy to fall in love?

If it were that easy to fall in, would it not be as easy to fall out?

He could blame the ruins. The magic of the old temple. The way she kissed him without putting her hand in his pocket to see what she could take. The way he wanted to kiss her again even though she was probably in bed asleep.

How had he let himself be caught? He was the Hunter.

“Still prowling, Lord of the Hunt?” The Queen and three of her Ladies sauntered down the corridor. Rhodia was one of them.

“I am, Your Highness.” He swept her a low bow. He couldn’t afford to upset her even the slightest, not after saving Darah.

The Queen cast her gaze over him as if determining if he was being polite or serious.

“You left dinner early. It is a most unattractive habit you are forming.”

Not early, but he hadn’t stayed until the end. “Then I shall amend my ways. Perhaps you could spare some of your Ladies to play the new card games with me?” He pasted on his Court smile and noticed this time how false it felt, how wrong it was to smile when all he wanted to do was go to bed and dream of Taryn. He’d rather be in bed sleeping next to her.

“Perhaps.” She nodded. “Perhaps they can also offer some advice on your attire.”

“My clothes? Do you find them offensive?” He spoke lightly, hoping to move the conversation to something less serious. He didn’t want the Queen asking where he’d been or whom he’d been with.

Rhodia giggled. “Only when they are on, my Lord.”

The Queen gave her a cold glare. The Queen hated it when her Ladies were getting more than she was, and no one wanted to risk being the Queen’s lover after what had happened to the last one. Hopefully the Queen’s temper would keep Rhodia off his back for a while.

“You have a smudge of dirt on your shirt.” The Queen flicked his undone sleeve with the tips of her fingers.

“Do I?” He glanced down and saw the red-brown dust from the ruins. His heart skipped a beat. He used the back of his hand to wipe away the offending mark but it remained. He shrugged as if it were nothing of consequence. “Hunting in the mortal world is dirty work.”

The Queen looked at him. Her dark eyes dead of all emotion. “I suppose it is.” She turned away, followed by the Ladies she kept around her. “If you aren’t careful, you will disgrace yourself. Appearances matter, more than ever.” She didn’t bother to even look at him as she swept down the corridor.

She wasn’t talking about his clothes. She knew he was seeing someone, which meant she’d be trying to work out who. There was no smile on his lips as he went into his chamber and shut the door. He leaned against the wood, unable to move.

He would not allow the Queen to steal his newfound happiness. He would do better at hiding what he had and what he wanted. He’d speak to Gwyn on Taryn’s behalf about her parents. He’d do whatever it took to get her free of Gwyn and clear a path for him and Taryn to be together openly.

Of course, he had no idea how he was going to do that.

***

While Taryn should’ve been happy to be riding next to Verden, they weren’t alone. Several other fairies had decided to come with them to the small town, so it had turned into a bit of an expedition—half a dozen white horses topped with lavishly dressed fairies who’d decided to leave the castle to see how the rest of Annwyn lived.

She’d been looking forward to this trip and not only because it was an excuse to spend time with Verden—she risked a glance over, but his eyes were focused on the trail. He appeared relaxed but she doubted that was the case. The memory of the jungle was too close. It had filled her dreams and left her wanting more.

She gritted her teeth and tried to ease her grip on the horse’s mane. Saddles. Why had no one managed to bring them across from the mortal world?

Some of the Ladies behind her laughed. About her? About gossip? She had to stop caring. And yet she couldn’t. Had they also placed bets on her love life the way the men had? Her lips twisted in to a grin. They were all wrong.

There was no reason for her not to talk to him, as long as it was about nothing substantial. “So, why are there no saddles and bridles? That would make riding so much easier.”

That got his attention. “The horses aren’t tame. They let you ride them because I ask. Saddling them would break the trust.”

She frowned at him, and he smiled back. Not the private one he gave her, but something with less of an edge than his usual Court smile, almost as if he were happy but trying to hide it. She bit the inside of her lip to stop herself from returning a grin that would spark rumor. It took a moment for her compose herself.

“Wait, you actually speak to the horses?” If she’d been in the mortal world and a guy had said that, she would’ve laughed and then ran. Here it was probably the truth. The Hunter had more power than she’d realized.

“Being able to command them is a benefit of the job, but one that can’t be abused.” He was still looking at her, his gray eyes smoky with half-disguised longing. Mortal women would be falling over themselves to get into his bed and he didn’t realize it because he rarely left Annwyn.

He needed to see more of the mortal world, see how good it was, and how much freedom a fairy had there. Usually—except for when the power was about to shift in Annwyn. Maybe after the shift, she could convince him to leave Annwyn for a bit. With that thought, she realized she didn’t want whatever they had to end. Could she live in Annwyn if that was the price for keeping him? She glanced away, unable to look at him.

The trouble with falling was the landing. She knew love wasn’t gentle. Her first human boyfriend had broken her heart even though she’d thought it well protected. Verden had snuck in beneath her guard. Maybe it would be fine and everything would unravel in their favor. Her parents’ love was something special.

But then, she knew if she turned around and talked to the other women, she wouldn’t hear chatter about love—only lust, deals, power, tricks, and games. Nothing of true meaning. Castle Annwyn was full of empty people, living empty lives.

The village was cute. Houses were formed out of trees, much like the castle only quite a bit smaller. Finding Cerela hadn’t been hard at all. After giving Taryn a close inspection, Cerela had invited her in, the rest of the traveling party was taking the time to look at shoes and ribbons and cloth. She’d have liked to look at the clothing too and spend some of the wooden coins that were the currency of Annwyn. However, she was hoping her grandmother would be able to shed some light on what she could do to get the King to remove the exile and invite her parents back to Court.

There were no hugs or anything remotely close to a reunion, just an awkward silence that Taryn had to either break or walk out on. Why did fairies make everything a freakin’ test of wills?

“I came to ask about my parents.”

“Why, are they dead? Is that why you came back?” Cerela raised one fair eyebrow that arched over pale orange eyes, the same as Taryn’s.

So
much
for
motherly
love.
This woman was as cold as ice and twice as brittle.

“No, my parents are well.” For the moment. “Still in exile though.”

“Chalmer ap Nye comes from a family of liars and vagabonds. He wooed your mother with pretty stories and she fell for it. And fell from grace. She deserves what she got. She sullied my good name—I can’t show my face at Court without whispers.” Her grandmother placed a pot of tea on the table with a thump. “If I were you, I’d concentrate on securing my own position and forget about them. Smell the frost on the air. Change is coming whether we want it or not.”

“Why didn’t you fight for her? She’s your daughter.”

Cerela tilted her head and appraised her as if she were defective, a broken and dirty toy that was only fit to be tossed away. Taryn forced herself to sit up straighter and not look away. She would not be treated like she was no one.

“When she married Chalmer, the King was less than happy. When Chalmer racked up a debt he couldn’t pay, the King saw it as a chance to get rid of him—he never expected one of his Council would choose to follow.”

The key to her parents’ return seemed to lie with her father, as there was no way she could smooth over the embarrassment her mother had caused. “Why does the King hate my father?”

“Felan and Chalmer were close. The King blames Chalmer for Felan’s love of gambling and dancing. Chalmer turned Felan into the wastrel he is today.” Cerela threw her hands into the air. “We are doomed to live in eternal winter.”

“You don’t like Felan either.”

She humphed and sat. “I think there are more suitable candidates.”

Taryn tried not to reveal her shock. Her grandmother was openly discussing…was it treason? If it was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be hearing it, but the fairy curiosity got the better of her. Besides, knowledge really was power here, and she knew Verden would want to know this. Hell, Felan would like to know—if he didn’t already. “There are no other children.”

“Royal blood doesn’t have to come from a direct line, and the right to rule isn’t a gift handed down from generation to generation. It has to be earned. Mark my words, if Felan wants that throne, he’s going to have to put down his goblet and fight for it.”

Taryn blinked and tried to swallow everything she’d heard. Felan wasn’t what her grandmother thought. He already knew someone plotted against him but didn’t know who. Did Cerela? “There’s another fairy with royal blood? How fascinating.”

Cerela patted Taryn on the hand. “Don’t worry your pretty head. Leave the politics for those of us who know how it works. Tea?”

She looked at her grandmother. She’d been given the brush-off. While she was tempted to press, she smiled instead. She’d let Felan know. “You’re right of course. It’s all so confusing here. I swear it will take me a century just to work out what’s going on.”

“I told Arlea to leave you here with me; you would’ve been raised proper instead of being in this mess.” She poured two cups of tea. “Let’s hope spring will be good for all of us. I do so miss those parties.”

Taryn smiled and sipped her sweet tea. It was much safer to act the innocent and pretend she didn’t understand Court at all when what she wanted to know was who was planning for war, and when would they make their move.

The ride back to castle Annwyn was tedious. Verden was riding ahead, which gave her a chance to watch him, to think without needing to work at not giving away her thoughts if someone saw them riding next to each other.

Sulia rode up beside her, bells tinkling around her wrist. Her nails were far too long to be practical and her hair was elaborately done in ribbons and gems. Away from the castle, it seemed all the Ladies listened to Sulia without question. They deferred to her. She looked at Sulia again, searching for a resemblance between her and the King. The song of the stones echoed in her blood. Gwyn had fought his brother. Was Sulia related to the defeated son?

She was jumping to conclusions…and yet…she thought back over everything she’d seen and heard. Sulia had the largest group around her. Queen’s Ladies or Sulia’s? Once the thought sprouted, it took hold. Maybe because she wasn’t enmeshed in the games, she could see them better, spread out before her like a map, if she stepped back and looked instead of trying to get involved. She frowned and let her thoughts drift over all the different exchanges she’d had with people.

“You haven’t said a word since we left the hamlet.” Sulia’s voice shredded Taryn’s thoughts.

“Just thinking.” Taryn glanced at the woman who was becoming more and more helpful by the day. Fairies weren’t that nice unless they wanted something. Taryn’s smile didn’t change, but she went on guard. She hadn’t trusted Sulia from the start and now she was on edge. Damn, she was turning into such a Court fairy.

“I remember Cerela. She is lovely. Very…wise.”

Were
they
talking
about
the
same
woman? Think of something to say that was neutral or possibly flattering.
“I can see why my mother wanted me to meet her.”

She couldn’t, but Sulia didn’t need to know the details of the conversation. Then again, her mother had been on the Council. Had she known about the possible threat to Felan?

Sulia nodded. “It is very important to connect with family.” She reached out and placed her hand over Taryn’s. “Never feel you are alone at Court.”

The hairs on the back of Taryn’s neck prickled to attention as a shiver like ice scraped down her back. “You do me a great honor.” She clasped Sulia’s hand as if accepting her friendship.

“Nonsense, we women must stick together.” She released Taryn’s hand, then Sulia pulled a bracelet off her wrist. “You didn’t have time to shop, so I bought this for you.” She placed the silvery bracelet in Taryn’s palm. The bells tinkled.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful.” What was this gift going to cost her? “You didn’t have to.”

Sulia’s smile grew wider. “Of course I did. You must tell me more about the mortal world. I have many questions…if only you could come with me.”

Taryn laughed, but it sounded strangled. Did Sulia know? Surely not. They’d been so careful. “I have certainly raised the level of interest in life across the veil.”

“You make it sound exciting. Perhaps we need more mortals at Court.”

“But they can’t eat or drink or dance.” It was all she could do to keep the shock concealed. Fairies couldn’t just bring mortals to Court, not anymore—even Taryn knew that. Was Sulia interested in returning to the old ways? Of sacrifices, worship, and toying with mortals as if fairies were gods?

“They can. They just get trapped here forever. What mortal wouldn’t want that?”