“Princess Faeniana Boldsong and her retinue.”
“Who is that?” Lexi moved to stand beside him. “And stop trying to be my shield. I don’t want you hurt because of me.”
“Princess Faeniana was bartered by the Fifth Kingdom to be my wife. I refused her. And it is my place to protect ye,” he said with a sternness he meant more than she would ever know. “Ye will allow me to do so, and there will be no argument or negotiating that fact. Am I clear on that, my lady?”
Her eyes flared open wider, but there was no anger in her expression. If anything, dare he hope he spotted a softening of her resolve against him?
She gave him the barest nod. “I appreciate your protection.”
The Fae tiger shoved around them, exited the room, and headed down the hallway. Jeros couldn’t resist a smile. “Let us allow Aylryd to greet our guests first, and then I shall join them.” He nodded at Nightleaf. “Tell the princess and her entourage that I shall be with them shortly.”
“Yes, my prince.” The butler bowed and hurried away.
Lexi surprised him by looping her arm through his. “Weshall be with them shortly. I want to meet this poor woman. She might be coming to you for help. If her kingdom is as you say it is, once you rejected her, they might have threatened her or something.”
Her ability to side with and think well of the enemy worried him as well as impressed him. Naïveté was a dangerous trait when dealing with the Fifth Kingdom. They would exploit it to their own benefit and destroy her or use her to destroy him. Raging protectiveness surged through him. “Ye must carefully weigh every word that falls from Princess Faeniana’s lips. She canna be trusted and is known for her sly cruelty. I would prefer ye stay here in our solar—where it is safe.”
With an endearing squeeze of his arm, Lexi nodded. “I appreciate that, but maybe I can help. You never know. Maybe I can be the neutral arbitrator and help diffuse this war before it gets good and started. Then everyone would be the better for it.”
He huffed another heavy sigh. “She is a cruel woman. I dinna ken what she will say to ye. Promise me ye will take nothing she says to heart.”
Lexi gave him a sad smile that broke his heart. “Stop worrying. I’ve come across cruelty a time or two in my lifetime and lived to tell about it. I am not some fragile piece of porcelain that crumbles if you look at it the wrong way.”
He didn’t like it. Even though he had no doubt she was strong enough to withstand Faeniana’s verbal abuse, he didn’t wish her exposed to it. Once a memory was made, it could not be erased any easier than unringing a bell. The memory would remain until either old age or death claimed it. “I dinna wish ye hurt,” he said quietly. “I have already done that enough and regret it more than ye will ever know.”
Her brow gently puckered with an adorable expression of bewilderment and worry. “It will be all right,” she said just as softly. “And for the record, I don’t hate you. I just came off a little strong because I hadn’t had my coffee yet.” She tipped a quick shrug. “I just want you to be honest with me so I can trust you. Honesty and trust are a big deal with me. I know you have trouble with the way I look, so just be honest about it. You’re not the first person who’s taken a step back when I turn, and they see the right side of my face. I shock a lot of people. It is human nature.”
Mairwen’s advice echoed through his mind, and he distinctly heardtell her. “I hate yer scars, not because of their appearance, but because they remind me of all that ye’ve suffered, and all I could have prevented if only I had found ye sooner in the Dreaming. Yer scars remind me of how much I failed ye.”
Her bewildered frown deepened. “My scars are not your fault. You didn’t even know me then, and even if you had, you would’ve been no more than a child. Our ages can’t be that different. How in the world do you think you could have possibly prevented that car accident when I was four years old?”
Even though he feared nothing, he feared this conversation, but was determined to get it right. “I am over one thousand of yer Scotland’s years, lass. Time is different here in the Seventh Realm’s Scotland, and the Fae have quite a longer lifespan. I could have appeared to yer parents in their dreams and warned them of what could happen.”
Her eyes turned misty, replacing her momentary look of shock. “My parents knew the risks of drinking and driving. They wouldn’t have listened to you.” She bowed her head and cleared her throat before squinting up at him as if he were a creature she had never seen before. “And you are how old in my Scotland’s years?”
“One thousand, nine hundred, and sixty-one to be exact.” He shrugged. “Give or take a few days.”
“Wow.” She slowly shook her head. “That is…un-freaking-believable. You look my age—thirty-two, by the way.”
“Yer age means nothing to me, lass. Only yer opinion of me.”
“It’s improving,” she said quietly. “Slowly but surely. What exactly is the life expectancy of a Seelie? Or are you immortal?”
His spirits rose, and his heart soared, making him struggle to remain calm. “We are not immortal, but those of us who die young usually do so because of some sort of injury or war. Illness is a rare thing among my people. A usual lifespan can be tens of thousands of years or more. I canna remember the last death in the Seventh Realm.”
“How do you prevent overpopulation?”
“Sadly, bairns are rare in the Realm. The goddesses cursed us, making it extraordinarily difficult for us to bring forth children. My mother was a rare Seelie found to be fertile, bringing forth me and my brothers, even though hers was an arranged marriage. Fated mates have a somewhat better chance than those who choose a partner for the alignment of certain families. Political unions rarely result in continuing their alliance through procreation.” He took her hand in his, admiring its softness and the way it disappeared within his grasp, totally engulfed and protected. “Yet another reason for ye to hate me. If ye wish to have children, I dinna ken if we would ever be blessed in such a way.”
“I don’t hate you. Remember?” She rested her other hand on top of their clasped ones. “And no one is guaranteed to have a child. It either happens or it doesn’t.” She seemed to draw herself up as if bolstering her strength and resolve. “We’d better go see your guests. If we keep them waiting, they might get even crabbier.”
“Crabbier?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Grouchier. Harder to get along with.”
“I see.”
She grinned. “Like me.”
