“No, no, not here, Strawberry.” Tadhg leaned in, his eyes taking on a fierce glitter. “It may not look like it, given the way I’mdressed, but our world is quite formal. And that includes yeas and nays. Only a formal no means no. And only a formal yes means yes.”
This time, Tadhg did cover my hand. With both of his. I wasn’t sure if he was comforting me or making sure I didn’t leap up from the table.
Either way, I had no choice but to sit there as he tried to reassure me. “It’s complicated. We sprung this on him, the same as we sprung it on you. And unfortunately, our mateship isn’t a go until the High King says it is. But Declan… he’s still processing all that’s happened, is all.”
Right. Processing.
I suddenly understood why they called this position The Potential. As Naomi was sometimes prone to say, “This is giving me bad vibes.” In this case, bad job candidate vibes.
“And how long will he be processing this?” For the second time that day, I felt compelled to tug my hands back from his grip.
But just like I suspected, Tadhg easily kept me there as he admitted, “By tradition, if a Mountain or Shadow King nominates a Potential, then the High King has three moons to decide—so that would be just after the New Year.”
And by just after the New Year, he meant… “February,” I clarified. “The High King has until February to decide whether he wants to reject me or not? Which, judging by his absence, he probably will. I mean, he’s not even here...”
“Actually, he is?” Tadhg winced. “With the Scottish Wolves on our trail, arranging this meeting has cost us the ability to walkabout in The Above. So, here in the Secret Kingdom is the only place he technically can be without jeopardizing our position.”
“He’shere?” I jutted my chin. I think Tadhg actually thought knowing the High King was on the premises would bring me some comfort.
“He’s here, and he can’t be bothered to come find me?” I half asked, half pointed out. “He doesn’t even want to talk to me?”
Tadhg raised one beefy hand to rub the back of his thick neck. “I’ll admit, we’re off to a bad start.”
“It’s more than a bad start.” Taking advantage of his lightened hold, I pulled away and jumped to my feet, spreading my arms to the side. “I mean, how would this even work for the next three months? I just sit around twiddling my thumbs while I wait for him to formally reject me?”
“Again, that’s not a foregone conclusion.” Tadhg also stood up. It was like having a mountain rise in front of you. He blocked out my view of the lake and tree line behind him. And though he wasn’t quite as tall as the Shadow King, I still had to tip my head back to look him in the eye.
Yet his face reddened, and he averted his eyes, as if I were the intimidating one. “There’s, ah… a ritual that governs how the time is spent prior to the High King making his decision. But I was saving that discussion for another time. Perhaps we could talk about it over dinner. Or at tomorrow’s brunch.”
Naomi was definitely right. All my life, I’d been way too compliant. I knew this for truth in that moment because I could pinpoint to the minute exactly when that nonsense stopped.
It was now. Right now. When I refused to continue playing by the Mountain King’s schedule. “No, Tadhg. No more secrets. No more pushing things off to the next meal. Tell me everything. Tell me everything right now.”
“Everything’s a lot,” he hedged.
I just stared back at him, unblinking this time. Waiting for my answers. All my answers.
“Alright.” His eyes bounced everywhere but down at me. “By tradition, the other king—or kings, in this case—are meant to train you so you’re ready for the wedding night and, ah… know what to do and expect. It’s meant to be a kindness for The Potential. If the High King says yes at your Presentation Ceremony, then you’ll have the knowledge you’ll need to please him and achieve your own pleasure on your first wedding night.”
Tadhg stopped there. At least he tried to. No-longer-compliant me jumped on his pause with a, “And if the High King says no?”
Tadhg’s embarrassed look turned wary.
I could tell he didn’t want to answer, but to his credit, he didn’t drag it out this time. “Then The Potential is sent home happy. Her pleasure will have been attended to while she waited, but if the High King says no, she is not allowed to stay with the other king or kings. And, ah, vice versa.”
“Sent home?” I echoed.
Tadhg raised his hands to hover beside my shoulders. Like he wanted to clasp them. But he didn’t. “A few hundred years ago, we learned the hard way that making the High King's decision a final split was the best way to handle a nay.”
He lowered his arms, hands twitching by his sides. “I could tell you all about it, but that would be another history lesson.”
I didn’t want another history lesson. Just like I didn’t want my only true offer of mateship ever to come with a huge High King-shaped condition.
“This is the most messed-up bride selection process I’ve ever heard of.” I flared my eyes. Then demanded, “How would that even work? When you’re not even allowed to touch me?”
“We’re not allowed topenetrateyou, Strawberry. We can touch you as much as we want.” Tadhg’s gaze heated, boring into me in a way that made my belly flutter. “And believe me, there’s a lot to be done outside of a baby claim.”
He stepped closer, erasing the slice of space between us. “We call it tradition, but in actuality, it’s more like an excuse.”
