I turn away from him to face my husband. Selwyn is standing a few steps away. Grinning wolfishly, with pride in his eyes.
My heart skips. My feet run over to him, but I don’t throw myself into his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss.
Our lips collide, and the party erupts with glee at this new scandal. Kissing is momentous for the fey. And that is just fine by me. I want everyone to know.
I want everyone to see that we are in love.
Chapter thirty-eight
The art studio looks lovely. Peaony has done a fantastic job helping me turn it into an art gallery for the evening. All the easels, supplies, and equipment have been neatly tucked away out of sight. The displayed drawings are well hung, and there are tables of drinks and nibbles.
Selwyn’s idea has been brought to life, and I am nowhere near as nervous as I thought I would be. I truly am becoming brave and finding my courage.
Selwyn strides into the room with Loki by his heels. She sees me and leaves his side to bound up to me. I bend down and stroke her excitedly wriggling body.
“It is almost as beautiful as you in here,” Selwyn says.
My cheeks heat and I busy myself with fussing over Loki. Selwyn can’t go around flinging compliments around willy-nilly! What is he thinking? Does he want me to get all flustered?
Tentatively, I peek up. Mercifully, he has turned away and is inspecting my displayed drawings. One of each of his brothers. One each of Jamie, Blake, Ollie. One of Llywelyn and his human when they were at court. And in pride of place, one of Selwyn in his plant room.
He stops in front of it. “You didn’t choose the one with me on the bed?”
My blush returns with full ferocity. “Of course not,” I mutter.
“I like that one,” he chuckles with a gleam in his eye.
His good mood is infectious, and I find myself grinning in response. “It is for your eyes only.”
“Now I like it even more.”
My stomach swoops, and I’d love to kiss him, but our guests will be arriving soon. And it is very hard to kiss him and not get carried away. Sometimes quite literally, since he has picked me up and carried me to the bedchamber during a kiss.
He drifts over to the picture of Dyfri. My good mood falters.
“Do you think he will come?” I ask.
It has been eight days since the duel. Six days since I banished my mother. Still nobody but Mabon has seen him.
“I am hopeful,” Selwyn says.
Dyfri can come through the secret door, and there is only going to be his family here. Surely if he feels strong enough to go anywhere, it will be here?
That is of course assuming he can forgive me and can bear to be in the same room as me. Even if that is ever possible in the future, a measly eight days is probably far too soon.
Selwyn sees my expression and comes over to me. He pulls me close to him and kisses the top of my head. He doesn’t waste his breath on empty platitudes, and I really appreciate that.
He is a good man. A dangerous one, but good. Look at how he is trying to save everyone for a start. He wants to save his people and mine. In the most altruistic way, because I cannot see how success would grant him any personal gains. It is far more likely to brand him a traitor.
I press myself closer to his chest. He said he was adamant that none of the dark paths he is willing to tread involve hurting his brothers or their lovers. He plans to see them all safely home .
I believe him. I believe his plans are worthy. Noble. All for the greater good.
Worth supporting. Not that I can do much except keep his secrets and stand by his side. Hopefully, that is enough.
With a sigh, I try to clear my mind. None of those grand plots and plans are going to come to fruition for years. There is no point in dwelling on them or stressing. For now, I get to live in Buckingham Palace with the man I love. I intend to savour every single moment.
The sound of footsteps brings me back to the here and now. I step back from Selwyn and straighten my robes.
