“I am far from the place of my birth, Lord Walgar, but that was never a home for me.” I looked at Redvyr, my belly flipping at the intense admiration in his gaze. “I have found my home with Lord Redvyr, and the Vanglosa clan of Meerland.”
I felt the eyes of a few others on me from farther down the table. The beast fae’s heightened senses helped them not simply for hunting or sensing danger but also in eavesdropping. Not that I minded. I wanted the other clans to know what I said, how I felt. Until I heard one of them say, “She doesn’t wear his mark.”
When I glanced toward the couple on the other side of Walgar’s wife, they both averted their gazes, the female with a sneer. I’d experienced worse in my father’s court. Still, I had to admit the idea stung. That Redvyr’s people might find me lacking as his partner.
“And what of the wraith king?” Walgar asked Redvyr, switching the subject. Whether it was to avoid the tense awkwardness at the table or simply to be polite, I was relieved.
Redvyr glared daggers at those down the table whispering far too loud and making a show of ignoring us at this end of the table.
“What do you mean?” Redvyr asked, forking slices of roast meat from a platter onto his plate.
“Word is that he rules all of Lumeria as well as Northgall now. That he kills his own men.”
“He kills his men when they commit treason,” Redvyr stated coldly.
Those who had been ignoring us before now tuned into the discussion.
“You know this for certain?” asked the male sitting next to Walgar’s wife.
“Aye,” Redvyr answered, anger still lacing his tone.
“We were told he slaughtered his own brother,” said another farther down. “That he tore him to pieces with his bare hands then lit him on fire with his magick.”
“Half-brother,” Redvyr corrected, forking a bite of roast meat into his mouth. “And yes, he ended him in such a way.”
When he said no more, the same male asked, “What had he done to betray Gollaya? To deserve such a death?”
It was Bezaliel who spoke up. “He kidnapped Goll’s mate, his queen, with foul intent. So yes,” he said, his voice now dipping with irritation, “he slayed the man that was supposed to protect his mate rather than cause her harm. Then he burned him to ash.”
“I’d do the same,” growled Redvyr, sitting back in his chair and drinking ale from his cup, glaring over the rim down the table.
I didn’t think the other clansmen disliked me enough to cause me harm, but Redvyr’s warning sent a shiver down my spine all the same. The good kind.
I hadn’t known this about King Goll and his queen, but it didn’t surprise me after meeting him. He wasn’t a fae to be trifled with. Neither was Redvyr.
“I think I’ll go to bed now,” said Tessa, looking at Bezaliel. “Saralyn is tired.”
“I’ll go with you,” I offered.
Even though I hadn’t eaten a thing, I was more than ready to escape the feast table. My presence was causing tension which was upsetting Redvyr. He needed time with the other clan lords. I understood from other’s stories about this feast gathering that it was only once a year, and it was a time for bonding to keep the camaraderie and peace between the clans.
I stood but Redvyr grabbed my hand. “You don’t have to go,” he said in a low voice, wrapping his tail around my ankle like he so often did.
Smiling, I squeezed his hand. “I’m tired from the journey as well. I’ll walk Tessa back and get some rest.” I stepped closer and whispered, “I’ll be waiting for you when you come to bed.”
He lifted my hand, holding my gaze, and pressed a kiss to the inside of my wrist. “I’ll wake you when I return.”
With that, I bowed my head politely to Walgar and his wife. I even smiled at the others down the table, their expressions mixed—some irritated, some welcoming, some bewildered, and some altogether unreadable.
I followed Tessa, who was already down the stairs and halfway across the feasting area when I caught up to her.
“Thank you,” I told her. “You gave me an excuse to leave early.”
“To be honest, they were quite civil with you.”
I laughed as we passed the last campfire and turned between two tents and headed toward our clan’s side of the encampment.
“That was civil? I hate to see rude.”
