I bit my lip. Was a little cold reason all this monster needed to back down?
Dedalus rolled his eyes. “He’s been trying to get all of you to quit calling him a prince for a year.” He waved a hand at me. “Surely this is enough to make you finally stop?”
Blue Hair raised a curious eyebrow at me, so I dropped into a quick curtsy. “Auria.” I grinned and added, “Of the Umbran House.”
He laughed and bowed. “Of course. Ephaltes, Lord of House Fundan. Glad to see you’re mingling with the rest of us lowly nobles.”
I plastered a friendly smile on my face to match his. At least he was defusing the situation with Dedalus. “I’m happy to mingle with anyone who isn’t offended by my humanity.”
The tinkling of the door bell chimed again, and an armor-covered arm pushed the door open. My breath almost caught before I realized the arm was attached to Ivodar. At least I knew this soldier.
Before I had a chance to analyze that thought, Ephaltes glanced at the newcomer. “Ah,” he said to me, “I see your backup has arrived. I’ll excuse myself then.” He extended a hand toward me, and I set my hand in his expectant one. He bowed politely over it, but then froze and tipped his head curiously.
“What is it?” I asked.
He tipped his head again. “I— Forgive me, it isn’t my place.” He let go of my hand, nodded, and headed toward the door.
“Wait!” I was already hating the arrogance of the fae. “Are you not telling me what you think because I’m human?”
He stopped and turned back. “No, my lady. I have a question I was curious about, but I decided not to ask it because it would be rude. I have no complaints about your humanity.”
Oh. A tight tension filled the room. It was my turn to answer—to let him leave politely or insist on the rude question. Would one action be construed as weaker than the other? I didn’t want them to see me and my lack of fae-ness as a weakness to be exploited. I couldn’t let them make decisions for me.
Before I had a chance to change my mind, I answered. “I’d like to know. If I think it’s too rude, I won’t answer.”
He raised a brow again. “You’re sure?”
I almost gripped my skirts but their silky texture reminded me they were far too nice for my usual grabbing and tugging. I clasped my hands in front of my waist instead, like Brielle, and rubbed my mother’s ring. “Yes.”
“It’s just—” Ephaltes stepped closer, but everyone’s attention was already pivoted on him. “I don’t feel Lord Bylur’s magic on you.”
The tension snapped. The seamstress gasped. Brielle’s eyes widened, and Dedalus’s narrowed. I was in trouble now. This clearly meant something, and I had no idea what.
No fear, I reminded myself. I had to get used to talking with fae and learning how their culture worked. I forced my lips up in a casual smile. “I’m afraid I’m new to magic and fae, and I’m not sure why that’s so shocking.” I pushed my smile up to reach my eyes, going for a warm and friendly expression. “Would one of you explain it for me?”
Dedalus moved like a whip, grabbing my wrist again. “It’s shocking because it means you are not married to Bylur. Who are you?”
Before I blinked, Ivodar’s blade landed in front of Dedalus’s throat. “She IS Lord Bylur’s wife. And under his protection.”
Dedalus didn’t move, his eyes burning into mine. “Then why don’t we feel his magic?”
Ivodar pressed his blade into Dedalus’s throat just enough to draw blood. “Perhaps if you ask her nicely, she will tell you.”
Dedalus let go of my arm, and Ivodar withdrew his sword. Ephaltes cleared his throat. “Ah, the beauty of backup, forcing us to have a civil conversation.”
“Ephaltes,” Dedalus growled, but I didn’t want them to get into a fight. I just needed more information.
I rubbed my wrist, trying to gather my thoughts. They thought they should feel Bylur’s magic because we were married? That had to be a fae thing. Bylur had asked if a human wedding was acceptable, and I’d agreed. That had to be it.
“I’m guessing,” I said slowly, “it’s because we had a human wedding instead of a fae one. Perhaps magic behaves differently in the two?” I didn’t mean to make it sound like a question, but my voice turned up anyway.
Ivodar nodded, still holding his drawn sword. “Perhaps. But it doesn’t really matter because Lord Bylur was very clear about his intentions when he told us to keep you safe.” He glared at Dedalus. “I have no problems with detaining nobility when they act like street trash.”
Dedalus smacked his hand on the counter. “Bylur gives his soldiers too much latitude.”
Ephaltes shook his head. “The obvious solution would be to agree to his council and establish a guard that answers to them. Until then, he might as well be the Prince of Kalshana.”
Dedalus glared at him one last time and then stormed out of the shop.
