“Hmm.” The King of Gorgons scowled, disgust coating his hard features.
I tapped my finger on my bottom lip. “Isn’t one of your brothers known for his scoundrel ways in the tavern? Or is he no more, the one who had the untimely death? I did hear tales all the way in Sugar Cove about one of them.”
The King of Shifters sat back on his chair and rested his booted foot on his opposite knee, drumming his fingers on his thigh.
Queen Mikko cast a disapproving glance in my direction.
The Queen of Merfolk yawned behind her fist.
King Elon’s shamrock green braidstwitched. “That was my dear brother, who had passed away. I would appreciate you not speaking unfavorably about him.”
“Rightly so.” I smiled sweetly. “Apologies given.”
He snorted softly. “Just like your father.”
“Thank you, Your Royal Highness.” My smile grew.
The door flew open andbangedshut.
King Traevon ran his fingers through his hair as he marched harshly to our circle. He had changed from his celebration attire, now wearing a simple pair of black linen trousers and a white, flowing tunic—and no shoes.
My king growled bitterly, “I am here. Let us get on with this.” He sat down roughly in the chair next to me and pointed a finger severely at the Misfits. “Now, Louie.”
Queen Alora grinned at me.
I snorted quietly. Father waswell-behavedfor a heat.
Black Louie stood with no emotion and lifted the ancient book. With his back to me, he started flipping through pages, stating in his monotone voice, “I must find the correct page.”
Gold Louie leaned to his brother, his brown eyes running up and down my father’s body. “You weren’t jesting, Louie. That isred.”
Mirth choked in Red Louie’s throat, trying not to laugh, an odd gurgling noise emitting from the tiny green gremlin.
Oh Fae.
I rubbed at the back of my neck…then threw out a hand, snatching back the fire that flew right at the two Louies. I cleared my throat and clenched my fist, snuffing out the blaze in front of me. I covertly flicked my gaze to the side and lifted a red brow at my father in silent reprimand.
King Traevon’s emerald eyes met mine. He bared his fangs at my chastising look, a quiet hiss slipping past his lips. He twirled his caster-spelled ring on his finger with his free hand—the ring that hid the fact he was as red as his power right now and ready to mate—unconsciously showing his distress.
Queen Alora’s lips twitched.
I lifted my chin, sniffing in her direction.
He wasstillwell-behaved for a heat.
“I have found it,” Black Louie drudged. He raised the book to his face, smashing his long nose against the pages to see better. He drawled, “When the—”
“Excuse me a moment, Louie,” I rudely interrupted, leaning forward on my chair. I squinted at the page he was reading. “But…there is no writing on that page.”
Black Louie kept his face plastered to the book, not turning to speak. “There is, Princess Trixie.”
My eyebrows snapped together. “I do not see it.”
“You must look at it right,” he specified.
I sat back on my chair gradually, trepidation sinking into my bones. “You said a Fae gave that book to the Fates. Which Fae was it?”
“The same Fae who wrote it, as it states on the first page.” His nose wheezed from being bent as it was—and he didn’t care. “The Judge of Shadows.”
