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After cleaning up most of the mess, the fairies start mingling again. As uneasy as they are, they’re still fae and must display courage and collective comfort with violence, while I’m watching out for their queen by holding every sharp metal object my magic detects. Some of them are wearing thick, large earrings and hairpins, others corsets with so much metal in them, I wonder if they’re actually armor. All my royals should wear one of those.
I make a mental note as I release the bar holding the door closed.
Amartis slips inside and makes his way toward me.
The people’s chants outside are growing. The last of the immediate royal family are now dead. I need to address the people before they turn more violent.
Inside the throne room, while he held the queen under the blade, I meant what I said to Frederick. She would’ve given him a parcel of land, riches, and as much female entertainment as he asked for. I meant to settle with him last night, but lost my temper instead.
While I regret having lost my temper, I don’t regret preventing him from going out to dinner with the queen. A male who can’t keep his dick in his pants while making plans to dine with a good female can’t have her. It’s as simple as that.
Amartis walks over and whispers, “There’s royal blood splattered on the street. You went to him yesterday. When he didn’t make a move, I presumed you’d sorted it out with him, but now this happens. What happened in here?”
“I went to Frederick and explained the fae kings would not support him, but if he kneels for the queen, they wouldn’t execute him for the crimes he committed against the royal family. But he ran his big mouth, and it cost him his tongue.”
“What?”
“And now his life.”
“What do you mean his tongue?”
“Never mind what I mean. Tell me what’s going on outside.”
“D’Artaron,” the queen calls from her seat on the throne. “What should I do?”
“Hold court.”
“What’s that actually mean?”
Amartis answers. “Let them look at you and make yourself approachable.”
The queen smiles. “That would be easier if I didn’t have a certain commander with me, looking like he’ll murder anyone in or out of reach.”
“Smile wider,” I say. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
Claudette climbs the steps, and I move away from the throne to give her sister space. The females chat for a while, and Claudette remains, standing on the queen’s right.
“The people are leaving work and coming here, D’Artaron. What are your orders?” Amartis says.
“Where is the captain of the guards?”
“Somewhere on the grounds.”
“We don’t know where he is, then?”
“We don’t.”
“We must find him. He was in bed with Frederick, and now that the mastermind is dead, the rest are fleeing. Make sure they’re brought in. I’ll deal with them.”
“The queen should deal with them.”
“She doesn’t have the coldness of heart yet. She will pardon them.”
“That’s up to her and?—”
“Her safety is up to me,” I snap.
Amartis backs off, even lifts his palms. “Easy, there.”
