Page 129 of The Fallen Fae King

Daire hums, squirming around on the blankets; he rudely dislodges a cushion to the floor. “Looks like royalty get better mattresses.”

“And softer blankets.” Freya rubs her cheek against a golden one.

I stoop to pick up the cushion from the floor and toss it back at Daire’s head.

He chuckles, batting it away.

“We may just move in here.” Daire ruffles his feathers.

My heart leaps. “Is this you moving back into my nest?”

That’s…huge.

I deliberately keep my expression emotionless.

I can’t ask if they are forgiving me. I don’t deserve that.

“It’s calling you a bloody idiot,” Daire grumbles.

I step closer to the bed, ignoring Tarquin’s small shrine, which is shaped like a silver dragon. A crown with twin dragons rests in front of it.

Tarquin’s crown.

I almost destroyed the shrine in my rage when I returned from the Guild of Assassins after Lanlin told me the truth.

Yet I couldn’t go through with it.

Tarquin is still my brother. I have grieved for him on my knees for too many hours before that shrine.

I can hold both emotions inside me at once, the loss and the betrayal.

Yet it is harder to ignore the fresco, which is painted on the wall above the shrine. It is a grand fresco of Tarquin as I remember from my childhood: charming, laughing, and handsome.

How much of that Tarquin had been a lie? Or had it been real, only he had another side that he hid from me? A darker side that could commit genocides and plan the coldblooded assassination of his own brother?

My bedroom is simple and uncluttered apart from my bed. It is a windowless room to maintain my privacy from Maximinus’ spies.

Beeswax candles flicker on a desk in the corner.

A chest stands next to the desk, which is ornamented with flames of gold on each of its sides.

I hide my treasure inside like the golden wooden dragon and amethyst feather that my mates bought at the carnival.

I glance from the chest back to Freya. “Are we…? Have you thought about…?”

Freya sits up, and the light dances across her beautiful curves. “I sneaked into the Guild of Assassins. I spoke to Lanlin.”

Worriedly, I glance at the closed doorway.

Then I march to the bed. I climb onto it, kneeling next to Freya. I cup her cheeks.

When I hush her, my lips grazing hers, I am surprised at the way she claims mine in a kiss.

“Be careful talking here,” I murmur, reluctant to be parted from her lips even for a moment.

Then, praise the Shadow Gods, she kisses me again.

Daire transfers Five onto the pillows at the top of the bed, cushioning his head on his arms to watch us with half-hooded eyes like we’re putting on a show for him.