“The unseelie deserves all bad things.”
The sibilant hiss reaches me from a nearby cluster of people. Selwyn stiffens. For a moment I think he is going to stride over to the group, but he doesn’t. He breathes deeply and exhales, and the tension leaves his body.
Dyfri glances our way but doesn't acknowledge us. Which makes sense. If we were seen talking, the gossips would love it. They’d make something out of nothing.
The best thing to do is to let the fire burn out. Adding fuel to it would be disastrous.
The murmurs die down. The stares reduce. I’m just standing here with my husband. Dyfri is standing over there with a goblet of mead. It is exceedingly boring.No wonder people are moving on to talking about other things.
Thank the goddess. There is hope that this night won’t be so awful. Because with the stars and the fireflies and the dancing, it is beautiful. It would be lovely to be able to have a nice time.
A flurry of gasps snatches my attention. The crowd is parting. Making way for Mother, who is making a beeline straight for Dyfri.
The crowd falls silent. The drums stop. The dancers fall still.
Everyone is watching.
Mother strides right up to Dyfri. He watches her with an uneasy expression.
“You seduced my son,” she says in a voice that carries clearly. “You seduced him and made it look like he ordered you. So you could cause trouble. You have tarnished his reputation.”
Her voice is calm. Icy cold. Her most dangerous voice of all.
“Prince Dyfri Y Mhorriganogi. I, Dowager Duchess Eastminister, challenge you to a duel.”
The crowd gasps as one. A great wall of sound. It hits me with the force of a thunderclap.
Dyfri pales. All colour drains from his face. His dark eyes grow enormous. He stumbles backwards a step.
I blink, and then his horns are gone. Just vanished as if they were never there. My mind reels, but there is no time to process, because Dyfri has turned on his heels and has fled the hollow.
And Selwyn is running after him.
I pick up the skirts of my robes and hurry after them, with Loki bounding by my side.
The princes are far quicker than I am, and I lose them in the hallways of the palace.
Eventually I reach Dyfri’s rooms. Selwyn is standing in the hallway. The double doors to Dyfri’s quarters are firmly shut, and a shadow figure is standing in front of them, arms crossed over his chest. Shaking his head.
As I try to catch my breath, others arrive. Mabon and Blake. Jamie and Crown Prince Rhydian. Ollie and Prince Tristan.
Everybody looks extremely worried.
“I’ll wait here until he is ready to see someone,” says Jamie. “The rest of you go, so he isn’t crowded.”
Six pairs of eyes stare at me. Full of anger and accusation. All utterly deserved.
I force down a swallow, but Selwyn takes my arm and leads me away before I can attempt to say anything. What even is there to say? There is nothing that can make this any better. Nothing at all.
A door shuts behind me. Dazedly, I look around. Selwyn and I are back in our rooms.
Selwyn releases my arm. He strides over to the drinks cabinet and pours himself a drink.
Loki sits right by my side, leaning on my leg. She whines softly, and I absentmindedly pat her head.
Selwyn downs his drink in one. “I can’t lose another brother. I can’t see Dyfri suffer again.”
I bite my bottom lip. “Dyfri is very powerful. It is going to be fine.”
