Goddess, these courtiers.
Pompous, arrogant fools, the lot of them. It’s a blessing my work for Myron doesn’t bring me here often.
Not that it helps my case much tonight. An unfamiliar demon, requesting access to the realm’s queen.
Even I would turn me away.
“The king and queen are not entertaining guests tonight,” he says, with a haughty edge to his voice. “And if you don’t have a formal invitation from a standing member of the court, then I can’t—”
“Finn,” I interrupt. “Finn Nighfall, son of Lord Nighfall. If you give him my name, he’ll issue me a damn invitation.”
The guard looks like he’d rather choke on broken glass than oblige me, but the mention of a lordling must be enough incentive for him.
“One moment,” he says with a long-suffering sigh, and disappears into a portal.
The other guard tilts his head, studying me. “You’ve been here before.”
“Aye.”
“On what business?”
“Private business.”
He snorts a laugh. “Keep that up, and even if you get your invitation, he won’t let you in anyway.”
I grunt a reply, and decide silence is probably the wiser course.
A few minutes later, the first guard returns.
“Lord Nighfall’s son is not in court. And the Lord himself says he’s never met you.”
Another grunt. The Lordhasmet me, but I’m not surprised he either doesn’t remember or has no interest in vouching for one of his intractable son’s friends.
“So, you’d best be on your way,” the guard continues, dismissing me with another haughty tilt of his chin.
He turns to go back to his post nearer the gate, and I step forward.
“Now, wait just a damned—”
In a flash, both guards have turned back toward me, hands resting ominously on the hilts of the swords at their waists.
“Wait for what?” The guard sneers. “Wait for you to give me the name of another courtier to bother at this late hour? Some fantastical story about why you need Queen Allison’s ear?”
“I need to speak to her about a witch I met.”
The words are out before I’ve fully thought them through. The first guard just scoffs his derision, but the second looks at least marginally more interested.
“In this realm? We’ve been told all the witches who cross the Veil are supposed to come straight here.”
Well, I know at least one witch who didn’t follow those rules.
“Not in this realm,” I say slowly, some ridiculous part of me not wanting to confess anything that might get my obstinate mate in trouble. “In the Middle.”
“The Middle?” the first guard says with an incredulous shake of his head. “They’ve barely started venturing beyond their own realm into this one, and you expect us to believe one just so happened to find herself all the way in the Middle?”
Before I can answer, the second guard speaks up again.
“Was she in trouble? In need of assistance or rescue?”
