Right now, I am more than content to enjoy the peace and continue to bask in the knowledge that Selwyn has forgiven me for my mistake.
Yesterday was awful, but it ended far better than expected, and today is a whole new day.
“You!” someone yells loudly.
Startled, I look up. A streak of purple is racing across the overgrown lawn straight towards me.
It is Prince Mabon, with a worried-looking Blake hot on his heels.
Prince Mabon storms right up to me, stopping mere inches away. He puts his hands on his hips and his amethyst eyes blaze.
“You dare to order my brother to your bed? You? A puny human who we welcomed into our family?”
Oh goodness. It never crossed my mind that any of the princes would believe the ruse. I glance nervously at Blake.Can I tell his master the truth? Selwyn told me to stick to the story.
“You have insulted two of my brothers!” seethes Mabon.
“Mabpie,” begins Blake, but the prince holds up a hand and stops him.
“Shh. Not now. Don’t interrupt.”
Blake gives me an apologetic look. It seems that, unlike his master, he understands that nothing really happened.
Mabon draws in a breath. He is the very picture of righteous indignation. He steps even closer to me, and Loki growls. An ominous sound that is far too deep to come from her small, fluffy body.
Mabon glances down at her. He frowns, but he also pauses.
Over his shoulder, I see Dyfri approaching, and I have never been more relieved.
“I heard you were on the warpath,” he says calmly as soon as he is close enough.
“Yes!” declares Mabon with a toss of his head.
“You don’t need to be.”
Mabon splutters with outrage at Dyfri’s calm assertion.
“I can take care of myself,” says Dyfri.
“No, you can’t!” As soon as the words pass Mabon’s lips, he winces. “Sorry,” he retracts, several decibels quieter than his first words.
Dyfri crosses his arms over his chest. “Apology accepted.”
“Why are you accepting this?” Mabon exclaims, waving his hand at me in a shockingly dismissive gesture.
“I have my reasons,” Dyfri’s voice is still calm.
His dark eyes flash me a ‘Please be patient with him’ look. I’m getting the idea that Mabon is often hard work.
“You can’t have good reasons,” huffs Mabon, but he is calming down. Slightly, ever so slightly. But things are looking hopeful.
Dyfri sighs wearily. “You don’t understand.”
Mabon draws himself up to his full height. “Yes I do!”
“You can’t!” Dyfri snaps suddenly. “You are not a rhocyn!”
Mabon inhales so sharply it sounds as if he has been struck a mortal wound. His face drains of all colour. Even his eyes dim and go a little glassy.
