I blinked.The city of?—
“I believe she said it was just outside of Blackthorn?”Desmond said, despondent.
“What on Earth would we need to do there?”
“She said something about picking up supplies for the Swan Festival.”Delaney popped a piece of pineapple in her mouth.
“The Swan Festival...”All at once, I realized I’d been far too distracted, because I had, indeed, been abridged of thisfestival.
It was on the twentieth of July.My birthday.
“What is the Swan Festival?”Desmond asked, wrinkling his nose.
I loaded up my plate with some poached eggs, fruit, toast, alongside some butter and jam, and a good spoonful of beans.
“Have you ever heard of the Children of Lir?”Delaney asked.
Desmond shook his head.
Wanda picked at the skin of her orange, her voice smooth and cool as always.
“The King had, like, ten kids—” Norman started.
“Seven,” Wanda drawled.
Norm cast her a look.
“If you’re going to tell the story, tell it correctly, Norman.”
I did not miss the way he sat up straighter, the way he looked at her as if she had just told him she had laid the golden goose egg herself.
I wasn’t sure what had transpired between them, but I would have wagered my castle that Norman Chee and Wanda Fischman had not parted ways amicably.
“So, the King had, like,sevenchildren, and his wife died, like, this horrible death.”
“That’s awful,” Desmond said.“Why would you celebrate someone’s death?”
I grabbed a glass of orange juice from the end of the buffet and found my way over to the table.
“Well, actually, he got remarried,” I said softly.“To a spectacularly beautiful woman, of course.”
Desmond leaned back in his chair, watching me intently.
I felt Bane at my side, but one hand on his thigh seemed to calm his bristling monster.
“But the new queen was not as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside,” Norm continued.“She was?—”
“She killed them,” Wanda said apathetically.
We all turned to see her plop a piece of orange in her mouth nonchalantly.
“What?Why?”Desmond sat up straighter.The motion bristled his long dark hair and some fell in his bright purple eyes.
His eyes were truly like the color of violets.A true indication of his Dark Fae heritage.They were captivating, honestly, but not just because of their color, but because of the curiosity that lay within them.
“Killed them?But why?”He pressed forward, clearly more interested than I would have given him credit for.
“Jealousy,” Delaney said, taking her seat with a plate full of fruit.She plopped a strawberry in her mouth.“The king loved his kids more than her, so she turned them into swans, thinking if she could get rid of them?—”
