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I made a mental note to ask The Raven about it the next time I was so inclined to speak with him. Probably after I had a chance to kick his ass for whatever this all was.

“It’s one of her many charms, Highness.”

There was a taste of bitterness in his voice. Was he upset that he had to admit to my charms, or was he bothered by another finding me charming?

“I take it the scold’s bridle is for my protection. I’ve heard that she wields a wit as sharp as daggers.” He looked back to me and smiled. “My lady Pearl, please excuse my brutish manners for speaking of you as if you are not in the room with us. A foolish habit of mine when I am overwhelmed by the beauty and radiance of another being. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Ard Tiarna Brittle Spear of Tromluí Údramáil, the seat of the Fómhar, Keeper of the Leaves of Autumn, and you are in the royal wing of my court. These are my receiving chambers, and I am most humbled and delighted to welcome you to them. Would you and your, er . . . escort like to sit with me by the fire?”

His smile should have been oily. I had never seen someone who was genuinely pleased to meet me let alone someone who was so candid with their enjoyment of my presence. But the way his well-defined lips curled into it was too easy, too comfortable and well-worn to be false.

I cast my gaze to The Raven, and before he could decide for me, I nodded and looked over Ard Tiarna Brittle Spear’s shoulder to the fireplace. Though the palace was usually warm enough, I noticed that, since we stepped foot into the marble halls, with their beautiful leaves, the temperature was crisp and bordered on chilly. The cloak kept most of the cold at bay, but standing still on the carpet had let some of it creep up and under the deep folds of my protective layer.

The Raven let go of the leash but did not unhook it. The Ard Tiarna, for what it was worth, did not take hold of the lead as I expected him to. He watched it fall and eyed it, a single brow raising as if to ask if it would be a tripping hazard for me. Hazard or not, no one was taking that leash up again just to lead me the thirty paces to the fireplace. I walked there on my own, my head held high and my eyes trained on the crackling fire burning merrily in the massive hearth. I didn’t wait to be shown my seat. I sat on the one that looked the most comfortable and made myself at home.

The Ard Tiarna looked to The Raven and smiled indulgently. “I like that she has a mind of her own. So few, these days do. It is an intoxicating feature. I see what you meant about her many charms.”

The Ard Tiarna joined me next to the fire, sitting across from me as The Raven brooded in a dark corner near the door and watched us. “I would normally offer you some refreshments, my lady, but unfortunately . . .” He smiled, and I couldn’t help but feel my own mouth try to curl around the leather into a matching smile.

Drool had begun to pool behind my gag, and I struggled to keep it from leaking out the sides of my stretched mouth. I wrestled with it, swallowing as much as I could as quickly as I could.

“It seems that our dear Captain has been outmatched by your wit one too many times to trust that you would not turn that rapier against an unarmed opponent,” he said, leaning in with a conspiratorial wink. “Truly, though, my lady, I do not know what I have done to deserve such an introduction, but I will say that I have been most curious about you. You know my sister, and she has spoken at length with me about your long list of accolades. Tell me, is it true that you vexed the Ard Rí so much that he succumbed to fits of violence upon your person for weeks on end?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, my bristles rising as he leaned forward. “Please, at ease, my lady. I do not mean to insult you. I was most impressed with your mettle. So few people are willing to stand firm against him that to hear a human had done so was even more impressive.”

I watched him, watched the stars dance in his cosmos eyes as he spoke. He had mentioned I knew his sister. And as I watched him speak, I saw the same features in a more masculine arrangement as the Bandrui. That made more sense. She had sent bread and had been as close to a friend as I had found in the Fae.

My shoulders relaxed as he watched me, his knee scooting forward to press against mine. “I see that you see the resemblance. I didn’t wish to name drop. She does hate when I do that, but, yes. Our Venerated Bandrui is my twin sister. Though she serves at the temple and has no family but the gods, I still count her leaves among my tree. She has told me so much of you and the time you spent with her. I have felt like a young child listening to our governess weave tales of far-off lands. I was almost sure you didn’t even truly exist.”

The Raven shifted behind me as if uncomfortable, but I paid him no attention.

“May I touch you, my lady?”

The question was soft, almost reverent, like a supplicant asking to touch the hand of a saint.

“I don’t think that’s a—”

I cut The Raven off with a terse nod to Ard Tiarna Brittle Spear.

The Raven didn’t get to tell me he couldn’t touch me and then get precious about it when someone else wanted to.

The Ard Tiarna’s keen midnight eyes twitched toward The Raven and then back to me. He understood the measure of it as quickly as if I had spoken, and a conspiratorial smirk played across his features. His hand, sun-kissed like his sister’s, reached across the small divide between us and drew the long golden braid from within the cloak. It was a given that the gap at the collar of the cloak revealed that there was nothing below it, but the Ard Tiarna had the good sense to not say or indicate anything about it. He merely toyed with the silken length of my hair, with indulgent wonder playing over his lips.

“My gods, my lady Pearl. Even your hair is a gift.” His eyes flicked up to mine, smoldering, with barely banked desire that was plain to read, even though there were no irises. “I am sorry for the way you came by it, but you are an amazing creature. Your spirit shines through all the layers of gilding they have placed upon you, and I sit as a penitent in your presence.”

The Raven moved behind me, leaning down and whispering in my ear, his hot breath filling me with a desire that matched Ard Tiarna Brittle Spear’s. “I cannot fuck you, little bug. But he can. He can fill up that dripping, aching pussy in ways I cannot. Decide if you want him.”

The words sat on me, pressed into me, and taunted me. Memories of the way my body sang under his hand, even with the leather gloves between us, flitted past my mind’s eye, and Ard Tiarna Brittle Spear’s thumb moved to caress small circles into my knee. There was no way he could have heard The Raven, though we were mere feet apart. If he had, the look of need burning in his gaze would have burned that much brighter.

“I hope he does not whisper that you must go. I would have more time with you if it is possible.” He laughed softly to himself. “Maybe one day, I could even hear your voice. My sister says that to hear you speak is to hear Ailbhe’s own voice, power, and rage intertwined with the song of beauty that you truly are. Will you grant me more time with you, my lady?”

I nodded. Though I wasn’t entirely sure to which I was agreeing. Was it The Raven’s debauched proposal or to Brittle Spear’s request? Neither. Both. All of them and more.

My heart was suddenly racing. I didn’t remember it, even getting up from its bed, yet it was pounding at the bars of its cage as Brittle Spear watched me. He did not ask again to touch me but merely reached out and dragged the back of his hand across my cheek, murmuring soft words that sounded like praise.

The Raven gripped my shoulder, weaving his strength into the gentle caress.

I let my eyes slip shut and let myself fall into the sensations. It was no longer Ard Tiarna Brittle Spear caressing my cheek and whispering how beautiful I was. It was The Raven.

I felt his calloused fingers brushing at the soft skin of my cheek, drifting lower to caress my throat. Goose bumps rose as the tip of his finger toyed with the lobe of my ear. It was his voice that murmured how my skin felt like sun-kissed pearls. It was him who traced a line up the edge of my ear and danced across the sensitive tip, winding small hairs back behind it. It was his breath that gusted over the shell of it.