It’s wrong, seeing him like this, posture bowed, submissive.
I’m stunned enough that I nod before I can summon energy to argue.
One more second of watching his eyes. Of waiting for his posture to change, a flicker of an opening I’d use to stand my ground.
But there’s nothing. Just—this.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, King Malachy,” I say numbly, facing Loch.
When I do turn, Malachy’s analyzing this interaction, and hisamusement seems to deepen. I don’t know what we gave him, but it feels significant.
Self-hatred roils in my chest. I spin on my heel and leave the room, even with half of me screaming to not let Loch be here alone.
All I can see is every fight Coal and I had with our father, every moment Coal took the impact of his anger, the worst of his focus—and that time when Coal thought Dad was going to hit me.
It’s impossible for me to go far. I don’t even close the office door all the way, just hold it in the seam, knob twisted, ready, waiting.
Loch must suspect I’m still nearby, because he switches into Irish. He doesn’t want me to listen.
Well, I’m sorry, but that’s not going to work.
I haven’t used Christmas’s magic at all since I’ve been here, but I tug on the constant connection I have to it that I’ve wholly taken for granted.
“—broke up a fight,” Loch is saying. “I don’t know what you think—”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” Malachy snaps in Irish too, all pretense dropped. “You used magic. We had an agreement, you selfish piece of shit.”
The hair rises on the back of my neck. I damn near stomp back in there, held at bay only by Loch’s immediate “I did what I had to do.” A flicker of his usual confidence returns. “Whatyouare supposed to do.”
“AndIcut you off. I let you and your sisters stay in this castle. I even let you carry on with these little events,andI fund much of them—”
Yeah, so he can slap ads for his distillery everywhere. Real altruism right there.
“—yet you repay all that by stealing from me—again?Did you not learn your lesson last year?”
“You want to save face, don’t you?” Loch’s voice is remarkably calm. But calm in a way that’s holding back dread. “If things go like this too long, attitudes unmonitored and our peopleforgotten,the court will get suspicious. It isn’t enough to run events half-assed this way. We can’t—”
“Stop accessing my magic. If I catch you in more situations likethis”—there’s a smack, and my vision goes white before I realize Malachy’s tapping the tablet’s screen—“you’ll see how fast I throw the three of you out on your asses. You’ll be begging for my forgiveness.”
“You’re theKing,” Loch implores. “How long do you think you can sustain this? Do you even realize what you’re destroying—what our people lose year by year that we allow—”
“I thought you’d realized how kind I’ve been to you, Lochlann. I thought you’d realized how much more you have to lose.Do not mess with me,you ungrateful little fucker.”
“You’re the King,” Loch says again, breathless. “Act like the King.”
“This is your only warning.”
Silence hangs.
I feel the absence of threat along with the sizzle of transportation magic, and I realize—Malachy is gone.
My hand is so tightly clenched around the knob that when Loch pulls on the door from the other side, I don’t let go, don’t bother trying to hide that I was here the whole time.
I shove it open and he flinches back.
His face is red, eyes glassy. Behind him, the room is empty—
Except for a small bunch of clovers next to the desk, growing out of the carpet.
