“Where are they?” I ask, bouncing on the balls of my feet nervously.
“They’ll be here,” Drystan replies, though he’s more concerned with watching the fae escorting Blizzard onto the barge. “Wave at the crowd or something, and try not to extend any more debts to random fae.”
I roll my eyes at him, but truthfully, the crowd is too far away to wave at, even if I wanted to. Soldiers from the Spring Court have formed a barrier farther down the dock, and the gathered fae are keeping a respectful distance.
“They’ve lined the entire river,” Bram says from behind me. “Your actions in the arena have granted you even more fame than if you’d killed Aiyana outright.”
That finally gets Drystan’s attention away from the stallion. “The people don’t care that she’s a necromancer?”
Bree shrugs. “They care more that she’s merciful. The common folk knew Danu was likely to send a Nicnevin with a strong unseelie gift to meet the threat of another war with the Fomorians. The Third Nicnevin had the innate gift of sword wielding, remember? She once slaughtered eighty males in under ten seconds. And before that, the First Nicnevin wielded lightning.”
“So far their love for Danu outweighs their fear,” Drystan surmises. “It might not always be that way. She should work on ensuring she continues to have their adoration when the threat of Elatha’s armies is eliminated.”
“She will. The temple’s support will never waver, and the people listen to the temple’s edicts above all others,” Kitarni says, coming up behind me and wiping a stray blossom from my shoulder. “Are we ready to depart?”
“Still waiting for the others,” Drystan grunts. “I think Bram is struggling to say goodbye to Madoc’s library.”
Bram may be, but I know the comment is a cover up. I haven’t seen Jaro since last night, and his absence is palpable. I can feel him alive on the other end of the bond, and that’s the only thing keeping me sane.
A bunch of roses interspersed with daggers is thrust into my face in the next second, and I blink in confusion.
“Look! I got you flowers.” Just as suddenly, they’re snatched away again. “Hands off, dullahan. This is Rose’s courting gift. Get your own.”
Lore holds the bouquet as far back as he can physically manage, but it doesn’t stop Drystan from trying to seize it.
“Goddess dammit, redcap, give me that before you poke her eye out.”
Lore blinks until he’s crouched on Drystan’s shoulders, flowers gone as he grins. “I’m only interested in poking Rose with one thing, and it’s not a dagger.”
“Don’t be so crass,” Jaro growls.
I whirl, their byplay forgotten as I search desperately for him.
The second I do, I break into a run. He lets out an ‘oomf’ as I slam into him, my arms wrapping around his waist so tightly that I may as well be trying to merge myself into his body.
“You’re okay,” I murmur. “I’m so—”
“Don’t even think of apologising,” he says, before I can finish. “This was not your fault, and you couldn’t have predicted what would happen. As for charming me, do I look angry with you?
“And your wolf?” I check, pulling back, to see his eyes already golden with the presence of his animal. “Has he recovered?”
“Kitarni’s potions are great.” Jaro releases me, taking a step back, and I link our hands happily. “Now, we have a boat to catch if we’re to meet the ship in the bay by sundown.”
Behind him, Bree shifts his weight from one foot to another, pinning the shifter with a glare. He opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, a blare of horns cuts through the noise of the crowd.
On the far end of the dock, the crowd parts, revealing a familiar figure on a throne, borne aloft by four oiled and muscled ogres.
“Queen Aiyana of the Spring Court,” a male announces.
As if it could be anyone else.
“Is she really so eager to die?” I whisper before I can stop myself.
Jaro’s hold on my hand switches from supportive to gently restraining.
“Rosie, she doesn’t—”
“I’m behaving,” I murmur. “And so is Danu… for now.”
