Selwyn inhales a little sharply. “Your childhood sounds delightful.”
My pencil pauses. Oh damn it. I was distracted by drawing and said far too much. My gaze flicks to his. I lick my lips.
“I had a happy childhood,” I say.
Selwyn raises an eyebrow. My heart thumps.
“I grew up in a beautiful home!” I blurt. “In the country, with large grounds. After lessons, I could roam freely.”
Selwyn stares at me for a moment. Then he nods, as if he believes me. My pencil starts to move again. Peace returns to my mind.
“What did you do when you roamed?”
I let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “I pretended I had a dog. For many years it was my greatest dream.”
Selwyn’s brows curve downwards. Yeah, that does sound tragic. I need to tell him something more uplifting.
“I made an old shed my own, and nursed injured birds and other wildlife.”
The pencil flows as memories come flooding back. The years feel like yesterday, and I can almost feel that long ago sun on my skin.
“Once the gamekeeper brought me an injured fawn. I was so pleased because he was a gruff man and I was so proud to have earnt his respect.”
Selwyn nods sagely. “You were scared of the gamekeeper?”
I purse my lips. Selwyn hasn’t quite put his head back in the same position after nodding. He catches my expression and shifts slightly, realigning himself correctly.
I smile and get back to work. Oh, he asked me a question. What was it? Was I scared of the gamekeeper?
I snort. “I’m scared of everyone.”
Selwyn frowns, but is careful not to move. “Why?”
I shrug helplessly, and concentrate on capturing his chin. As I focus on the lines of his face, a realisation dawns. I don’t think Selwyn is very old. It’s not merely fey physiology. It is genuine youth. I think he might only be a couple of years older than me. Not that I’m ever going to ask.
As my pencil flies across the paper, I can feel the weight of his attention on me. It is making me want to squirm. But drawing is helping. It is a focus and a distraction.
“Did your mother beat you?” he asks suddenly, and utterly unexpectedly. “When you were young?”
I blink. “Only when I made a mistake.”
Selwyn moves abruptly. Flowing off the chaise longue and gliding up to me. His fingers rest under my chin and stop me from dropping my gaze.
“Do you wish for her to leave court?” His eyes are blazing.
I swallow. “No… no. She is the ambassador. The alliance. The whole purpose of our marriage,” I babble.
Selwyn’s eyes search mine. Deep and probing. He sighs and releases my chin. My gaze stays fixed on his.
“Very well. I will ensure her path never crosses yours.”
My heart skips. I haven’t seen Mother since the wedding, and I strongly suspect that now I have served my purpose, she has no more interest in me. But the thought of a guarantee that I will never see her again is making me giddy.
“Thank you,”I nearly breathe. Then I remember not to thank a fey. “I am grateful,” I say instead.
A stricken look crosses Selwyn’s face. A flash and then quickly gone.
I can’t look away from him. I’m not even sure if I want to. I feel as if I am caught in a spell, but he isn’t using any of his potent magic. Whatever this is, it is entirely organic.
