“I am trying to overcome my shallowness. But the better I get to know her, the more I see her kindness and caring, the worse those feckin’ scars remind me of the suffering she has endured. Her unimaginable suffering breaks my heart and makes me wish I had found her sooner, so I might have saved her. If I had traveled to her family in the Dreaming, warned them about the accident, maybe I could have prevented it. It grieves me that I did not help her. I feel as though I failed her, Mairwen.”
“Then tell her that.”
Jeros stared at the old woman, who more often than not was a thorn in his side. “Has protecting the Highland Veil driven ye mad? I canna tell Lexi all that I just told ye.”
“Why not?”
“Because I sound like a pompous arse, trying to control her destiny.” Another thought occurred to him. “And I have yet to tell her I am over a thousand years old—by her Scotland’s reckoning. In the Seventh Realm, I am but a prince in my prime.”
“Now, ye did sound like a pompous arse that time.” Mairwen shook her head, causing her silvery white hair to shimmer with an ethereal glow. Some said she was the daughter of the goddesses Bride and Cerridwen, and a once-powerful king of the Seventh Realm. Jeros had no doubt they were right. He sensed her Seelie blood, sensed their connection through their ancestry.
“Our Lexi has a rare trait, which I am sure you have already discovered,” Mairwen said. “She knows when something is false. Be it words, looks, or actions. Since the accident, when she was naught but four years old, she trained herself to read people. She recoils from pity, but values honesty and integrity. Do ye possess either of those traits, yer highness?”
“Do ye enjoy insulting me?”
“I do it to get yer attention.” Mairwen drew her colorful shawl closer around her narrow shoulders. “Be honest with her. Has dealing with yer mother and the Fifth Kingdom made ye forget how?” She shook her head again as she closed in on him, cutting through him with her startling blue-eyed glare. “A fated mate is not just a wife, or a mother to yer children. A fated mate is a partner in this life and every life thereafter. She can help ye if ye but give her a chance. Show yer trust in her, yer regret at being unable to save her from the cruel fate this life dealt her, show her by bringing her to yer side and empowering her to help ye with this feckin’ mess yer parents seem unable to overcome. Yer father and mother are so busy warring with each other, they ignore the Fifth Kingdom and risk the entirety of the Seventh Realm. Is that what ye wish? Do ye doubt what I tell ye?”
He had no doubt about what she said about his parents. Nor did he think they would ever rise from their personal war long enough to be the wise monarchs the Seventh Realm needed and deserved. Jeros scrubbed his face with both hands, wishing destiny and fate had dealt him a better hand.
“We are dealt what we are dealt,” Mairwen said, reminding him she had no qualms about barging into the personal space of his thoughts, either. “We must make the best of that which we have—or the worst of it. Which do ye choose?”
“What if it is too late?” That was his greatest fear. He had researched what afelonywas in Lexi’s Scotland because she had threatened to commit one before she received her coffee. His heart had crumbled when he realized she had said she was ready to kill him, even in jest, but serious enough, because his foolish theatrics had hurt her so. “I fear it is too late.”
“What if it is not?” Mairwen arched a silvery brow, pinning him with a stare that made him want to squirm. “Why are ye so willing to give up so easily? Is a thing as rare and wonderful as a fated mate not worth fighting for? Is it not worth trying harder as many times as it takes to be successful?”
“Ye could speak with her on my behalf.” Jeros almost cringed. He sounded like a whining child.
“If I speak with her, all she will ask about, at least for a while, is how to return to her time. Under no circumstances must ye allow her to walk through the evening mist if the goddesses choose to tempt her with it. She must be kept here until the two of ye meld yer bond.” She pointed at him with a finger crooked with age. “If she returns to her time, to her Scotland, she may never be allowed to return to the Seelie realm. She will be free to time travel again, but ye ken as well as I that the only reason the goddesses allowed her entry into the Fae realm was because the bond the two of ye share is more powerful than usual, and the Veil would profit greatly from it. Ye know the goddesses still take issue with Seelie and Unseelie alike.”
“And yet, here we are.” Jeros couldn’t keep the bitterness from his tone. As far as he was concerned, the goddesses caused as much trouble as they caused good, and he knew deep down that Mairwen felt the same. The only ones he truly respected when it came to the Highland Veil that separated the worlds and planes of time were the Divine Weavers, and even then, only the Weavers of the Light. The Weavers of the Dark were known to cause as much mischief as the temperamental goddesses and the Unseelie.
Mairwen perked like a hound on the hunt. “She comes. Remember all I have said.” Then she disappeared.
Jeros braced himself. A part of him wondered if Lexi might unleash her tiger to maul him as punishment for his behavior. He silently scolded himself for such a ridiculous thought. His mother would do something like that, but not Lexi. She might be angry with him and hurt by his behavior, but he doubted very much if she could ever bring herself to commit afelonyas she had threatened. Kindness and compassion rolled off her in waves, a rarity for mortals—a rarity for any race, actually.
Lexi swept into the room wearing a day gown of royalty. The sight of her stole Jeros’s ability to breathe. The high-waisted, silk gown of the richest green brought out the beauty of her long, lean figure and the deep hazel of her eyes. Her maid had coiled her dark umber hair up onto her head and fastened it in place with emerald hair pins. Rill had also adorned Lexi with emeralds at her throat and her ears. This lovely woman could easily be mistaken for a Fae princess of the wood.
“You are staring,” she said, her tone cold and accusing.
“Ye are beautiful,” he said without hesitation.
She blinked as though taken aback, then frowned. “Don’t think you can get on my good side that easily. I am not a fool.”
“Nay, lass.” His heart ached for her. In fact, his entire soul ached for her. He longed to pull her into his arms and never let her go. “It is I who am the fool.”
She tipped her chin higher as if shaking off the compliment that she didn’t trust. “Who were you speaking with? I thought I heard Mairwen.”
He would not lie nor put on any sort of act. Her reaction to his overzealousness during her bath had taught him that. “Mairwen appeared for a moment to warn me about the dangers the Fifth Kingdom brings.”
Her hands fisted at her sides, Lexi closed the distance between them. “Why didn’t you call me? You knew I wanted to talk with her. She’ll know how I can get back.”
“She insisted on keeping her visit brief and refused to see ye. I informed her of yer wishes.”
Lexi eyed him, weighing his words. He felt her judgment as surely as a touch. After a brief moment, she tossed her head. “Did you tell her I wanted to see her as soon as possible? Did you ask her to come back as soon as she could?”
“She knows ye wish to see her because ye long to return. I dinna ken when she will come back to Sevenrest. She did not say.”
“Well, isn’t that just great?” After a glance at the windows, she caught up her skirts and started toward the door. A flash of red at her feet gave him pause.
