Mr. Meeks’ house isn’t too far from the mayor’s, and before the ride grows too tense, we roll to a halt. The driver opens the door, announcing our arrival. Mr. Meeks gets out and offers his hand to assist my exit. Before I can accept, Mr. Duveau leans forward and blocks the door with his arm. A flash of red peeking from under his cuff catches my eye—a strand of rowan berries wrapped around his wrist. I reach for the strand around my neck, seeking comfort in their feel.
“Your friend may exit first,” Mr. Duveau says. “I’d like a word with you.”
“I’m not leaving her,” Lorelei says with a snarl.
His face flashes with irritation as he assesses my companion for the first time.
My words come out calm but firm, as if I can cut the tension with them. “Mr. Meeks assured me you would accept Lorelei as honorary Autumn ambassador until the trial. If that is so, then she may be present for whatever you must say to me.”
He looks at me through narrowed eyes, but he doesn’t meet my gaze for long. Slowly, he leans back and straightens his silk cravat. “Very well, Miss Fairfield. I want to impress upon you what is at stake. Despite the comforts and freedoms we are allowing you, what I said holds true; if you and your sister fail to present yourselves at Maven Fairfield’s trial, your mother will be executed.”
I clench my teeth. It’s an effort to keep my voice level as I say, “I assure you, Mr. Duveau, that my mother’s life is of the utmost importance to me.”
“And to your sister? Why is it you are here when your sister is not?”
I wonder if the humans know anything about what has happened with Amelie. Aspen refused to send word when I thought she’d died; I doubt anything has been communicated about her allegiance to Cobalt or even Cobalt’s treachery. “My sister feels the same as I do.”
“Is that a promise?”
I open my mouth but consider my words carefully before I speak. “I’ll leave that promise for her to make.” I shift my weight to rise from the seat, but again Mr. Duveau blocks the door with his arm.
“The council has heard nothing regarding your sister since the announcement was made that you would be marrying the Stag King and not she. Why is that?”
“Why have you not heard from my sister or why did I get paired with King Aspen?”
“Both.”
I meet his eyes, holding his gaze with a glare. Shoulders square, I adopt the bearing of a fae royal. “Mr. Duveau, your curiosity flatters me, but it is getting late. I am vexed by today’s news and my companion and I are tired. You will excuse us and allow us our rest.”
A muscle ticks at the corner of his jaw, expression darkening. “Don’t toy with me, Miss Fairfield.”
“Is that a threat?”
“If I were threatening you, you’d know it.”
My chest heaves as rage and terror flood me. Something in his tone, slithering beneath his words, has my skin crawling. Never would I have imagined being so terrified of one of my kind—a human. Especially after being thrust into the fae world where I was attacked by a kelpie, the Sea Queen, and Cobalt. I can’t put my finger on why, but this man is far more dangerous than any creature I’ve ever met.
Still, I hold his gaze, my words like a growl. “Goodnight, Mr. Duveau.”
He returns to his seat with a curt nod.
Lorelei and I all but tumble through the door in our rush to get away from the man. Mr. Meeks greets us with an apologetic smile. “Let’s get you girls to bed.”
We turn away from the carriage, but before the driver closes the door, I hear Mr. Duveau’s voice. “If you’re in contact with your sister, I implore you to pass along what I’ve said.”
I refuse to turn around, refuse to do anything but dart into the safety of Mr. Meeks’ house.
* * *
Loreleiand I are given a guest room to share, even though he offered us two separate accommodations. With Mr. Meeks being a widower and his son once again on holiday in the mainland, he has ample space. However, Lorelei wouldn’t be persuaded to leave my side, although I get the feeling she needs the comfort of my presence more than I need her protection. It’s clear she’s shaken by the events of this evening, her face paling from its usual rich umber to an ashen brown, a slight tremble with every move.
“Are you all right?” I ask her as we climb into the small bed piled with an assortment of quilts and blankets.
She winces as she tries to settle into the pillows, as if they pain her. “I’m fine,” she says, although her tone implies otherwise. “I’ve just never been on this side of the wall before. Never slept in a human house, in a human bed. It’s...uncomfortable for me.”
“Physically? Or emotionally?”
“Both. Also, I can already feel a drain on my magic. It makes me feel unwell.”
