The door silently opens. Dyfri strides in as if he has every right to be here. A servant scurries past him and frantically sets a place.
“Ah, peppermint tea. Perfect!” declares Dyfri. “Thank you, Slyvye,” he says to the servant.
She bobs her head and hurries back out of the room. Dyfri sits at the place that was just set for him, and picks up the teapot.
Is inviting himself to tea, his favourite hobby? Is it an unseelie custom?
Selwyn frowns at him, iPad forgotten on the table. “Why are you here?”
“To see my favourite brother, of course!” smiles Dyfri.
Selwyn scowls.
Dyfri picks up a small bunch of grapes. “I saw the bedding sheet. Congratulations.” He pops a grape into his mouth.
“What do you want, Dyfri?” growls Selwyn.
Dyfri waves an airy hand at him in a gesture so dismissive it is shocking. “Shh. I’m here to see Laurie.”
I inhale a little tea but manage to put my cup down safely.
Dyfri’s dark eyes bore into me. “Did my boarish brother treat you well?”
I blink. I have no idea what to say to that. This is far outside the realm of any polite conversation that I have been taught.
Dyfri’s dark eyes soften. “How are you feeling, Laurie?”
My mouth opens, and to my immense surprise, I burst into tears.
Chapter eleven
I’m broken. I can’t stop sobbing. I’m a mess of snot and tears. I’m all hot and my throat hurts, yet still I can’t stop weeping.
Dyfri has taken me somewhere. I think I’m in his rooms. It is dark and quiet in here. A cosy little bedchamber with closed thick curtains. I’m curled up on the four poster bed, on top of the embroidered cover, crying like a little baby. And I don’t even know why.
I sniffle again and hold my breath in an effort to stop. In the temporary silence, the sound of voices reaches me. They sound as if they are standing right outside the door.
“What is wrong with this family? This is like Ollie all over again,” says a voice that sounds like Jamie’s.
“Hey!” exclaims Ollie. “I didn’t cry! You just thought I did!”
“Stop bickering,” says Dyfri. “And get in there and do human comfort things.”
“Like I know anything about being nice. Don’t know why you dragged me into this,” huffs Ollie.
Jamie sighs. “Fine. Stay out here.”
The door quietly opens, and Jamie steps in. The heavy door swings shut behind him. I scramble up into a sittingposition and frantically rub my face. But it is no good. I’m a mess.
Jamie’s kind brown eyes fill with empathy and sadness, and apparently that is enough to set me off again.
Before I know what is happening, the Crown Prince Consort is on the bed next to me and his arms are holding me.
“I’m so sorry, Laurie. My wedding was completely different. Apparently because I was raised from a pet. I had no idea what they were going to put you through, because as usual my asshole husband didn’t say more than two words.”
Did he really just call his husband an asshole? The shock of that is enough to stop my tears.
His arms tighten around me. “Shall I send someone to fetch your mum?”
