Chapter twenty-four
Hiero
Skylar was playing withhis hair again, his nervous tell, and other than a heartfelt hug, he seemed distant since returning from his trip to Emrallt Valley a short while ago. From behind the bar, I made him a fruity, non-alcoholic drink and passed it over to him, but he only sipped it distractedly with his head down and his eyes averted. The boy had secrets and it was high time he started spilling.
“There was something you wanted to tell me?” I prodded. Regardless of what he had to say, I didn’t want him to suffer for it.
“You should probably sit down for this,” he said, so I rounded the bar and took up the stool right beside him. I grabbed one of his hands and pressed it to my lips, waiting anxiously for him to tell me his “very important news.” I only hoped it didn’t involve my heart getting broken.
“How was your trip?” I asked, since he didn’t seem inclined to start the conversation.
“It was fine,” he said with a long face.
“And did you get done what you needed to do?” I asked, trying to coax him along.
“Yes, I suppose I did.” He gave me another anguished look, then sighed heavily and slid a cream-colored envelope my way. “Perhaps you should just open it.”
I picked up the envelope and examined the fancy fae scroll and wax seal. “This looks very official,” I remarked.
“This sorcerer came highly recommended. You can trust the results.”
“Results? Did you take some sort of test?”
“Something like that,” he murmured, still not meeting my eyes.
“Then shouldn’t you be the one to open it?” I tried handing it back to him, but he pushed it my way.
“You should know that these past few moons have been the best of my life. You are so kind and caring, and you’ve been a wonderful Daddy, and I pity the men in your life who’ve passed you by, because they are clearly idiots who don’t know a good thing when they find it.”
I laid my hand over his–he was shaking–and said, “I’m afraid you’re only making me more nervous, darling. And what did I tell you about this?” I touched his swollen lower lip. He’d been abusing it in my absence.
He gestured toward the envelope again, his intent made clear. Was it a royal summons? A meeting with the fae magistrate? A fucking forced betrothal to that asshole prince?I picked up the envelope again and slid my finger under the paper flap, but just as I was about to break the seal, the sound of a trumpet echoed from outside.
“The royal guard,” Skylar said and snatched the envelope right out of my hand, stuffing it down the front of his pants to hide it. “They must have followed me here.”
“Stay inside,” I told him, then let out a long whistle to signal my kin.
“No, I’m going to face them, Hiero. There’s nothing more you can do.”
Before I could grab hold of him, he’d taken flight and was out the front door. I’d punish him for his disobedience later–if I had the opportunity. Damn him for not listening to me.
I grabbed my bat from behind the bar and chased after Skylar. Outside, the late afternoon sun nearly blinded me, and when my vision returned, I found myself staring at what looked like the entire fae court, all of them wearing ridiculously fancy clothing despite the heat and standing stiffly at attention in my modest cobblestone courtyard. I recognized only a few of their party, but the queen was there, as well as her princeling brat, who, in addition to sporting a freshly blackened eye, was being collared by the scruff of his neck by a tall, imposing figure with pointed ears and a somber expression. He didn’t appear to have wings though, which I supposed meant he was elvish, not fae. The prince hardly looked our way, so cowed was he by the other man’s command.
The royal-looking stranger held a long metal staff and wore a military uniform in what was commonly known as elvish blue. His heavily embroidered cloak had a hood that shielded his crown from the sun while throwing his face into shadow, which puzzled me even more. Only the vampyre hid from the sun.
“Hierophant Wolfsbane, I presume,” the stranger said coolly and without any inflection whatsoever.
“Aye,” I remarked and dragged Skylar behind me, making sure to keep hold of him this time. The boy needed a leash.
“I am Lord Mercier Vasil, ruler of the elvish territories and Prince Cedrych’s betrothed.” He held out one hand and I shook it. At his slight grimace, I wondered in hindsight if I was supposed to kiss his royal knuckles instead. Slim chance of that happening.
“Well, you know who I am already, so what’s this about?” I said, never one for long, drawn-out formalities.
“It seems we owe you and your clan an apology for the incident my fiancé incited at your bar recently.” He withdrew a hefty coin purse from within his cloak and held it out to me.
“I don’t want your money,” I sneered. Damn these royals for thinking they could buy their way out of their misdeeds, as if we “commoners” didn’t also have our pride.
“I see.” He tucked the coin purse away. “Then tell me, how may I make amends for my betrothed’s very bad behavior?”
