“We ventured here with lords and ladies. Mal sent more guards out to patrol other directions. Last I heard, there were more, but not as large. I think they’re a distraction.”
Her eyes flash with an emotion I can’t place. Intrigue? “Distraction? For what?”
She stops a few paces from me, and I turn back, keeping her in my sights. “I’m not entirely sure. Griffin might be a twat, but he’s a Godsdamn smart twat. He’s planning something.”
“You give him too much credit,” she says, snorting. “The Lone Human King rarely is smart. He confused a grown woman with a child.”
My ears twitch but my face doesn’t betray my reaction. I’ve spent years in Zelos’ court, where wearing a mask became a way to survive. Aoife doesn’t know to look for the signs that I understood what she said.
A grown woman for a child?
She’s talking about Max’s mother. Our first night reunited, we spent more time explaining everything we had learned. She told me about Thea, about her sacrifice, Griffin’s quest, and Baris involvement.I wiped her eyes when she thought of her gone mother, and ease her pain with pleasure.
But Aoife wouldn’t know anything about Thea. Not unless she spoke to Griffin.
“Be that as it may,” I continue, ignoring the warning bell in my head, “I believe he’s still a distraction. He may be trying to figure out a way to take your kingdom.”
She rolls her eyes. “He has no concern here.”
“Then mine.” My hand falls to my sword. This entire conversation is throwing my instincts off. Something is wrong here—something I’m not seeing. I hate when the pieces don’t fall together as they should. “He was found to be interested in taking my kingdom when he thought I was gone. He may be looking into it, using his men as a distraction to take my castle.”
Clearing my throat, I glance over her shoulder, avoiding her gaze. “For that reason, we must depart. Now.”
Aoife stills, pale face frozen. I’ve never studied it before, not the way I’ve studied Max, but there’s something with her eyes. A shine that seems to come and go as if the green is bleeding away before returning brighter.
I blink a few times. Clearly I’m exhausted. My eyes are playing tricks on me.
“You would leave?”
“I would return back to my kingdom to rule. As we discussed when I was younger.” We used to discuss how I would rule—would I be a benevolent king, a ruthless one? How would my people see me and what could I do to help them? “I am needed there. Max and I should take our thrones?—”
She scoffs, spinning away on a huff.
Ah. Max might have been more accurate than I gave her credit for.
“Aoife—”
“Don’t,” she snaps. “You wish to return to your home, with your beautiful bride, is that it?” She’s bitter and I rub the bridge of my nose, annoyed. “While I gave you my troops, my money, to stage a coup. And what do I get?”
“Repayment,” I reply easily. “As we discussed.”
I never agreed to take and be ungrateful. Her reaction is…extreme.
She seems to wrestle with herself, striding through her room, to a spare table by the door. A pitcher sits there, and she pours herself a glass of water. Strangely, Aoife never partakes in nectar. Her kind have to drink it to survive.
“Then, stay for the ball.” She turns, coming back to me. “Be present. You will be our guest of honor. You will show the lords who have supported you that their efforts weren’t in vain. It will be good for relations.”
“Aoife.” I sigh. “I cannot stay. My kingdom needs me. My mate?—”
“Needs you?” She drinks more water, rolling her eyes. “Yes, must not upset the Chosen One, shall we?”
“You know you are exceptionally upset about me doing what I always told you I would do.” I cross my arms. “Is there something else you’d like to tell me?”
She places a gentle hand on my chest, but I snatch her wrist before she can touch me. The idea of her touching my body—of her not being Max—fills me with nausea. “Don’t.”
“How well do you really know her?” She tugs away, swirling her glass. “You met in the woods, you claimed her without thought. What if she is doing this to use you?”
“She isn’t.” It doesn’t matter that I would let her use me to her heart’s desire, that’s not how Max works. She’s honest and good to a fault. “And you will refrain from making such accusations about my wife, Aoife. She is a queen—myqueen. I will not stand for anyone, even someone like you, to insult her.” I look down at her, black flaring around my shoulders. “No one speaks ill of my mate. Unless they want to end up with their tongue ripped from their skulls. We leave tonight.”
