Page 35 of A Lady’s Guide to Fae Kings

Algernon coughed, his breath misting with cold. “Professor Thorn!”

Both he and Sidney bowed low. Very low.

Lachlan’s expression was terrifying for its calmness, edged with banked fury. Pippa half expected to see a troll on the loose, or something else catastrophic. Had the Wild Hunt changed their minds? Was she trespassing now, even though she had permission to return? Faery bargains were known to be tricky things.

But Lachlan only looked at each assistant silently until they blanched.

“P-professor?”

“Speak to her like that again,” Lachlan suggested.

One of them gulped audibly. Was he angry on her behalf? Truly? That seemed unlikely.

“Go on,” Lachlan continued, cold and dark.

The Fae glitter at the corners of his eyes and in the air between them was like the flash of a sword. His scar was a warning. The very air was a warning, freezing the breath, clawing at the lungs. Pippa was quite comfortable, but Algernon and Sidney were turning red. A very fine beaver-crowned hat toppled to the floor.

“I am sure I misheard you,” Lachlan said. “I can’t imagine either of you brave enough—or, frankly, stupid enough—to talk to Miss Cavendish in that manner.”

An owl landed nearby, talons wickedly sharp.

Pippa realized it was not ladylike or proper to enjoy their discomfort. But there it was. That kernel of smug satisfaction. Vindication.

An oil lamp on a nearby table began to burn when it had not been lit at all.

“Apologize,” Lachlan said. His tone was both hard and eerily pleasant. It sent shivers up the spine. “You have one chance, and I am not feeling patient.”

“Beg your pardon,” Sidney babbled.

“Sorry,” Algernon muttered sullenly.

Lachlan turned slowly, spearing him with that silver gaze.

Algernon, apparently both brave and stupid, shrugged. “She’s just a—”

He choked on his own words. Or more precisely, on the ice that suddenly filled his mouth. He clawed at his throat. Frost prickled over his cravat, like pale needles. A drop of blood stained the pristine white cloth. Ice fell to the floor as his lips turned blue.

Sidney just stared at him, frantic and helpless. When the frost inched toward him, he leapt back with a yelp.

Algernon continued to choke.

Lachlan looked entirely unmoved by the fact that he might be committing murder. In a rather public place. On her behalf.

Pippa wasn’t sure which she found more implausible.

“Professor Thorn?” she finally said. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

“He doesn’t matter, then.”

Lachlan paused. “Fair enough.” He sighed and flicked his hand in a motion one might use to discourage an annoying fly. The ice did not melt gently, but broke into jagged pieces. Algernon spat onto his own boots, blood on his lips.

“She saved your life, boy. Never forget it,” Lachlan said. “Because I won’t.”