“Thank you for having us, Selwyn. I really appreciate it. I know it makes things difficult for you,” Jamie says.
“Pssh!” says Selwyn with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It is a delight. And I’m not scared of my big brother.”
Jesus effing Christ. Is everyone at the fey court related? Are they all Tristan’s brothers? Though, it might explain why Selwyn makes me uneasy. There might be a resemblance to Tristan that I can’t consciously see, but it is nagging at my subconscious. Or maybe I’m just a suspicious bastard who doubts even kind people who take me in.
Jamie slides a plate of buttery toast towards me. I try again to smile. I think I am a little more successful thistime. But I pick up a piece of toast and start eating it just in case. If I can’t smile, I can show my gratitude this way.
A look of relief flows over Jamie’s face, and he takes a sip of his tea. He seems calm and at ease, but I can tell that he is a little scared of me, and boy is it making me feel like an asshole.
He has only ever been sweet to me and I yelled at him, made him cry and now he has flipping left his husband for me. A stranger. Me, a grumpy asshole.
Mabon’s pet punched Tristan for me, too. What is with the humans here? Why are they all so nice? It is bewildering.
I gulp some more tea down. Maybe they aren’t that nice? Maybe this all has nothing at all to do with me and it’s just a twisted game of politics that goes right over my head? I mean, that is far more logical and makes far more sense.
My stomach squirms pathetically and my heart does something strange. My stupid insides liked the idea of nice people who liked me. And now my guts are being all clingy about the realisation that it probably isn’t true. Oh lord, my guts are pathetic. It is embarrassing.
Suddenly, a strange-looking dude wanders in and walks up to Selwyn. This little guy would come up to my waist at the most, and I’m a short-ass. He also has leathery bark-brown skin, a huge nose and a bright red hat.
He whispers something at Selwyn, bows and then walks away. Selwyn grabs a napkin, dabs his mouth, and gets to his feet.
“Excuse me, boys,” he says, and then he follows the short guy out.
I don’t think I will ever get used to this place. But I’m not going to say anything. I’m just going to sit here eating my toast, drinking my tea and enjoying the sunlight that has broken through the clouds and is now streaming through the window.
Oh wow. I’ve just realised. Look at me. I’m having tea at Buckingham Palace.
A snort escapes me, and Jamie looks up in alarm. If I try to explain, I’ll probably just sound even crazier than he already thinks I am, so I pretend to cough instead. He turns his attention back to his breakfast, so I think it has worked.
Selwyn strolls back in. His hands are clasped behind his back, and he has a strange smile on his face.
“Rhydian has sent apology gifts. I have had them set up in the next room,” he announces.
Jamie rolls his eyes, but I catch his pleased little smile. He jumps to his feet.
“Come on!” He smiles at me when he sees I’ve made no move to get up. I guess that means I’m invited.
The next room is just as huge as the one we just left, and it is half filled with giant bouquets of flowers. Every colour imaginable. I sneeze and mutter an apology. But everyone is far too busy gawping at all the flowers to notice me, which is fair enough because I’m gawping too. I’ve never seen anything like this.
There is a small path between the blooms, and Jamie weaves his way through it. I follow him. In the midst of all the bouquets, in the middle of the room, is an enormous golden bowl. It looks like real, solid gold to me, but what the hell do I know about such things?
I do know that it is brimming with small, sparkly crystals. Jamie makes a noise and sticks his hand in. Then he lifts it and lets the crystals fall between his fingers, catching the light as they go.
I swallow dryly. I have a horrible feeling those are actually diamonds. A huge golden bowl of diamonds. Big enough to stick my entire head in.
“Oh my god!” squeals Jamie. “Is that the Mona Lisa?”
My head whips around to where he is staring. Yep. That sure looks like the Mona Lisa.
“I mentioned it was my favourite painting once! I didn’t even think he was listening!”
Jamie steps towards it. Then he stops and places his hands on his hips. “It is Ollie he should be apologising to.”
Selwyn picks up a white envelope that was nestled amongst the flowers. “This is for Ollie.”
He hands it to me and I take it with shaking fingers. Sure enough, my name is scrawled across the front in fancy, looping handwriting. The paper is thick, like the poshest wedding invitation ever.
I open it up and try to read the words, but I can’t make head or tails of it. I look up at Selwyn in defeat.
