Dyfri continues to glare at me. My gaze helplessly tracks down his long undone hair. I try to swallow again, but I can’t. My heart aches. Oh my poor Dyfri.
He stiffens. Oh fuck, he caught me looking at his hair. Now I am in trouble.
“I don’t know anything! I swear!” I exclaim hurriedly.
His eyes narrow.
“I’ve never had anything to do with the Resistance. I don’t know anything about anything. I will swear on anything you like. I’ll take another truth serum.”
Because actually the first time only proved I had nothing to do with the assassination attempt. It doesn’t prove I’m not involved in anything else. Heaven knows there are factions within factions.
“Blake believes you are working with them.”
My heart drops. I took the note. I passed it on. I am involved. Does this mean Selwyn is working with the people who hurt his brother?
And… oh my sweet goddess. No wonder Blake doesn’t like me. He thinks I’m aligned with the people who hurt his prince. But wait, I thought Blake used to be with the Resistance?
I’m so confused. I can feel my face scrunching up with the effort of trying to puzzle this all out.
Dyfri sighs heavily and uncrosses his arms. “Alright, I believe you.”
He does? Hope flutters through me.
“You are far too dumb to be in the Resistance.”
“As dumb as a hamster.” I nod eagerly. His previous assessment of me was quite correct.
Dyfri laughs. Rich and melodious. “Let's have that tea.”
That’s the best idea I have ever heard.
Chapter thirty-one
“Are you sure you wish to attend?” Selwyn’s voice is full of concern.
I flash him a smile as I fiddle with the laces of my sleeve. “Yes, a garden party is probably the only type of social function I would ever enjoy.”
Selwyn frowns. He is going to need more convincing.
“We can take Loki, yes?” I say.
He nods.
“See? It is all good!” I beam. “And I’ve never been to a nighttime garden party. It sounds exciting.”
I finish with my laces and look at him. It is time to go, but he isn’t moving. He is standing in the doorway of my dressing room, blocking the exit.
“I promised to keep your mother away from you,” he says softly. “But the ambassador will be in attendance.”
My smile falters.
“I will not allow her to talk to you,” Selwyn adds hastily.
I take a deep breath. “Then everything is fine. I can cope with seeing my mother across a crowd.”
Selwyn’s eyes swirl with doubt. He still doesn’t move.
“It is an important celebration,” I try. “Lady Freyanogi has given birth to a healthy child and fey births are extremely rare. It would be an insult not to go.”
