Briar cupped her palms in her lap, the picture of diplomacy, while Poet sprawled beside her, the picture of disheveled elegance. His arm slung behind the princess, his fingers toying with a lock of red hair.
On reflex, the princess shifted closer to him while addressing the clan. “This explains Rhys’s desire to use the elixir,” she concluded with a grimace. “Giselle would have been impregnated without her knowledge and against her will. And while Her Majesty could decide not to keep the child, she would likely accept it rather than struggle to find a replacement that meets with Rhys’s approval.”
Firelight sketched the inked webs beneath Poet’s eyes. “The question remains why this heir would scare Rhys shitless.”
“Shame,” I contributed from my place beside Aire. “It’s got to be something so incriminating, even his cult would no longer follow him.”
Jeryn leaned forward and tented his fingertips. “You said it was a male.”
Because Winter hated to waste his breath, he didn’t expand. Instead, the man simply waited for more information.
I sighed, “I got loads of things out of that asshole, but not about the heir. At least, nothing substantial aside from his sex.”
“As such, this figure could be hiding anywhere,” Aire speculated, his body heat warming my skin. “The heir could be residing among the bacchanals of Spring or the hellscapes of Summer.”
“Or here,” I guessed. “Or Winter.”
Flare’s eyes gleamed. Perched sideways so that one olive limb steepled between Jeryn’s thighs, thus enabling him to rub her calf, she peered at the fire with the ambition of a sandrifter. An explorer who knew how to locate impossible things.
“So we find him,”she mouthed.
This had been one of our agendas from the start, though the most important context had been missing. As I’d speculated when Rhys paid me a surprise call in this enclave, communicating through fire could be useful. If the ability to send missives through flames was restricted to blood-related members of Summer’s Royal family, it might help identify and confirm the heir.
After I suggested this, more questions floated between our clan.
Did the heir know about his origins? Did he care?
Boot soles thumped across the wood planks. A dark silhouette in a smudged coat blasted through the fog.
We swerved as Lyrik strode toward the fire pit. Under the mantle, a red-spotted bandage stretched diagonally across his chest, then hooked over one shoulder.
Clearly, he hadn’t expected everyone. “Where the fuck—” He trailed off, stumped by the faces staring back at him. “Shit. Famous people.”
The rogue must be drugged on something to combat the pain. Only that would explain the awkward head-bow. “Er, sorry,” he grunted. “I was looking for the songbird—”
“Please.” Avalea graciously swung her arm toward the banquettes. “Join us.”
Lyrik wavered, uncomfortable with the curious looks that greeted him. “Sure. All right.”
The instant he moved, Briar and Poet rose. Stranger though he might be, this man saved Nicu’s life. He flung himself in front of a knight hellbent on impaling their son.
Earlier, Aire and I recapped what we saw. I would have leaped off the bench and given Lyrik a hug for that, but I doubted the man could handle any measure of affection.
Lyrik took a seat next to me and Aire, his bandages and unkempt layers enhancing the knavish appearance. Amid the blaze, he resembled a post-battle pirate.
Predictably, Briar’s ladies noticed. Spring origins on display, Cadence gave him an indulgent once-over, then leaned into Posy and Vale.
“Well, damn,” she hinted under her breath. “Very nice.”
Considering the gap in years between me and Aire, I wasn’t about to judge Cadence’s appraisal of Lyrik. That aside, she wasn’t serious about the rogue. At least, not beyond acknowledging male beauty when the occasion called for it.
Regardless, females weren’t his type. Lyrik’s wandering gaze only held space for the one person who remained absent from this conversation.
Poet’s perceptive gaze did a slow crawl over the rogue’s features. “Lyrik, is it?”
“That’s me,” the man replied, patting his chest before realizing he was fresh out of cigarettes.
Lowering herself beside Poet, Briar made introductions and smiled. “Aspen and Aire tell us you hosted them here.”
