“I’m not sure, but I don’t wish to find out. Though the king does not know Neve’s truth yet, we’ve been gone a whole moon cycle without word. The king will take that as an affront. Once he has a hint where we are, he’ll send soldiers to collect us.”
“Wonderful,” Neve murmured.
“Don’t worry. He’ll not find us so soon,” I assured her. In under two hours, the sun would set. “We’ll leave early tomorrow. Too quickly for anyone to find us this far from a true city. There are no soldiers loyal to the king out here.”
“If only I had some coin,” Neve said. “You think I’d be used to not having two coins to rub together, but I still hate it.”
I looked at Neve. “I’m sure you have claim to coin.”
My mate side-eyed me. “If you mean I can sell the gems I took from my mother’s rooms, you’re not wrong, but I sort of hoped to keep them. A change of heart, which I know is perhaps not the best idea?—”
“Not that,” Caelo cut in before I could reassure her. “Vale means the Falk family vault. Isn’t that right, brother?”
“And House Skau’s,” I added. “As you’re the sole survivor of both lineages, you may be very wealthy indeed. Far more so than me.”
Despite the thickness of her fur cloak, I could see Neve stiffen. It was a testament to how in tune with her body I was that I felt the shock rippling through her. My mate had spent hours considering what it would mean to claim her family name, but I was certain she’d never once thoughtabout the many assets that went with the Falk bloodline. Let alone that of House Skau.
“But King Magnus is a Falk by blood,” she replied, her words slow and thoughtful. “Wouldn’t he have drained that vault or had the contents moved into his?”
“He’s a bastard and hence his name would not be automatically applied to the family vault. You can be sure his father never placed his name on the Falk vault’s account, either,” I answered. “So no, you are the last.”
“With the combined wealth of two houses, you might even be wealthier than Warden Roar—or, that is, his estate, Neve,” Caelo said, no remorse in his tone over the dead noble. “Though the moment you claim any money will be a proclamation to the realm of your right to the throne.”
“Why wouldn’t the money have been, I don’t know, donated or something?” Neve asked. “It’s just been sitting there for two decades?”
“That’s how the leprechauns work,” I replied.
Neve cleared her throat. “I have much to think about.”
I shared a look with my best friend, then Anna, hoping that they’d not push more upon my mate. They did not continue, and Neve fell silent as she urged her horse down the road leading into Eygin.
The rest of the ride was quiet, and soon enough, we approached through the feeble gates surrounding the village. Two fae manned the gate, but merely waved us in. Apparently, we did not appear dangerous enough to be stopped. Or they were simply too deep in their mulled wine. From many paces away warming spices perfumed the air.
Eygin nestled between three mountains, one of whichran right up to the gates and, presumably, along the edge of the village. I nodded approvingly. The rock would provide a natural barrier to predators, should any dare to stray too far off the roads.
However, near the gate, there was a large, boarded up door that told me more about the village. One of the mountains bordering Eygin seemed to have also once been a mine. Possibly one belonging to the dwarves, but more likely, the villagers had once mined for coal to keep their fires going. I stared at the wood over the door. It was not so old, though I spotted older boards beneath.
Caelo gestured to the doors. “A mine might help explain the communities’ loyalty to the dwarves of Dergia. Similar pasts.”
“Or maybe there’s a mullrokk in there? I wouldn’t want one of those getting out and gnawing through my home,” Neve said.
“Could be many things. There are many unnamed monsters of the dark,” Caelo muttered.
“If something is in there,whateverit is, the boards must keep it in,” Anna said. “And I’m glad for it. I need a rest.”
“We continue on,” I agreed, digging my ankles into the horse’s side and urging it toward the buildings.
Though we wore no glamours as we rode through the village, we kept our hoods up as far as they would go. We earned a few welcoming smiles and curious stares, mostly from females and younglings out doing the end of day shopping, but no whispers followed. To these fae, we were travelers. Soon enough, though, the rumor mill would turn andthe commonfae would learn that their prince and his wife were visiting.
“The coinary.” I pointed up the street to what was likely the most regal structure in the medium-sized village.
“The other one was white stone and had a golden cauldron too—though this one is on the sign, not a statue on the roof,” Neve mused, taking in the coinary. “Do they always look so similar?”
“Leprechauns are a small fae race with massive pride. I think it may stem from the fact that they’re a type of goblin and they know how the kingdoms regard goblinkind. So leprechauns, having found acceptance, know they have to be the best. They take special care to be consistent. The insides always look much the same too—occasionally with local art featuring landscapes—but mostly, they’re identical.”
We reached the coinary and tied up the horses. Anna and Caelo leaned against the free posts, ready to wait and watch the horses. Not that their protection was necessary. No one in their right mind would think of theft so close to a coinary. That security extended to the horses and sleighs that parked outside their establishments too, for it was all a reflection of the leprechauns’ business.
Rather, Caelo and Anna stayed outside because leprechauns were strict about who they allowed into their establishments. If one did not have an account, or planned to open one that very day, they were not welcome. As Neve was my wife, she was allowed inside, as was Caelo, who held an account, but that meant Anna would be alone. A human alone in this world was always in peril.
