The king swiped a hand down his face, looking away. “You were able to return his horns?” he whispered. “His tongue?
“I was, Your Majesty.” Maybe the hardest thing she’d ever successfully managed, too. “There were enough particles of both left behind that I was able to rebuild upon them. Hopefully the shape is?—”
“They were perfect!” Nyri interjected. “I’d never have known anything happened to him, I swear.”
Lunara bit back a smile, incapable of stifling the swell of pride at hearing her work had been done well.
The Demon King raised an indulgent brow at Nyri before turning back to her. “When might my cousin be able to talk to us?”
“Hard to say when, Your Majesty. The sleep won’t wear off untilheis ready for it to do so. But again, I don’t know what you’ll find once that happens. The road to mental recovery may be difficult regardless of my efforts, and it’s too soon to tell whether it will hinder his ability to communicate.”
“Can you shed any light on what happened? Something that might tell us where or who to be looking at, or what he experienced.”
She bit the inside of her lip. A tricky question to answer, given the more personal nature of Baldrir’s wounds.
“Some things are not mine to share, Your Majesty, and I would not violate him by doing so—even for a king. Forgive me. What I will say is that nothing stood out as being unique to any one place, but my experience with such things is admittedly limited. Either way, he’ll need care and attention more than retribution on his behalf.”
Rather forward of you, considering who you’re talking to.
True. The cold sweat breaking out told her as much. Still, her words were no less relevant.
The king looked at her for a long moment, his green stare penetrating. She fought the urge to squirm under that sharp scrutiny until he finally bent with an elegant flourish. “You have my most sincere gratitude for all you have done, Lunara. The hospitality of the Demons is yours for as long as you wish it.”
How in the shite did you get a king to bow down to you?
Excellent question. One she’d probably perseverate over for several weeks. Didn’t help that she was barely standing, the whole night like a fevered delirium.
Stop staring and ask for a bed, then.
Right.
“Your Majesty, might it be possible?—”
A door clanged somewhere and stole his attention as Nyri squealed, “Snacks! Complete with strawberries, even though they’re disgusting.”
“—for someone to show me to a bedchamber.” The rest of her words were swallowed by everyone’s laughter, the tension broken as they took their places at the table.
“Come, Lunara,” the king said, straightening the chair she’d been in before. “You must be famished, and I would be remiss if I did not at least see you well fed. Unless you are too tired?”
Sitting down with royalty instead of sleeping for three days was possibly the last thing in all the world that she wanted to do.
Who are you to say no to a king?
No one. Lunara was absolutely no one.
“It would be my pleasure.”
Somelies were necessary, after all.
“…and there’s Thad, sprinting naked through the Chieftains’ garden, Cook chasing after him with the biggest kitchen knife you’ve ever seen,” Magnus bellowed.
“Completely unnecessary.” Thaddeus crossed his arms. “I only wanted a bite! But everything looked so good and I couldn’t carry all of it. Using my robe seemed as good idea as any.”
“Aye, until Calista walked in and started screaming the Keep down!”
“I tried to calm her, but that made it worse,” Thad whined. “Cook barely blinked before she went mental! I’d no idea the sweet, wee thing was so bloodthirsty.”
“Serves you right!” Magnus laughed, his palm smacking against the table and rattling the dishes. “Spend five minutes watching the old lass butcher a side of beef. There’s a gleam in the eye there, lad.”
