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Lyra frowned in concern at my response. “I sent word to Greyson and delayed them as long as possible. They left only a few moments ago.”

Rue

I hadn’t been given a choice in the matter. A summons from a king must be obeyed, or so I was informed before being marched away by a fancily dressed high fae with more perfume than tact. However, my instinct was that he meant no harm to me. Whether or not the king’s intentions were so benign was yet to be seen. The fae had left me standing in the corridor outside a pair of intricately carved doors adorned with winged figures.

Most of the figures were cherubs, modestly draped in carefully placed loincloths. I struggled to reconcile the garish image they made against a sky-blue background with the tasteful style of the rest of the Greyson mansion. Those doors appeared out of place even within the corridor itself. Cool shades of gray with hints of muted green soothed and calmed, the rest of the house whilst those doors screamed gaudy opulence and wealth.

“What are you doing here?”

I jumped and whirled around to find a delicately winged deer peering at me. His long face came even with mine and an impressive rack of antlers rose above his head, but the rest of his body didn’t quite match the proportions I expected from a deer of his size. With his elegant head, slender back and haunches that gave him an air of impeccable refinement, he appeared almost delicate. Based on his slightly bored expression, I could only assume he was part of the court and not a misplaced animal. Not to mention that the lovely fawn-spotted wings folded across his narrow back were woven with ribbons.

“I said, what are you doing here?” he demanded.

Remembering my training, I offered him a head bob. “I was summoned.”

“And left outside the doors like a piece of trash.” He snorted. “Are you trash?”

“No.”

“You don’t sound convincing.” He rolled his eyes, showing their whites.

I stepped back instinctively to give him room should the whites of the eyes mean the same thing on the creature’s face as a horse’s face. The rack of antlers on his head could do some serious damage if he chose to use them as a weapon.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Giving you room.”

“Why?”

“In case you wish to panic.”

His head came back in a universal movement of surprise, but his tail didn’t rise in alarm. Then, he laughed. “I am no deer. To think I would stoop to such low manners as a dumb prey, constantly fleeing from anything that moves.”

I refrained from pointing out the animal-like nature of his response. Instead, I bobbed my head again in deference. “Then, if you would be so kind as to educate me, what kind of fae are you?”

“I am a peryton.” He narrowed his dark eyes on me once more. “What kind of fae are you that you can’t recognize a peryton when you meet one, especially me?”

“I am told I am half-nymph.”

“What? How can you not know for sure?” Then he swung his head around and eyed me with only one dark eye. “For that matter, you don’t look like a nymph. Is your other half human?”

He sounded almost hopeful. My senses burst to life with a sudden sense of danger.

“No, I am half-elf.”

The danger sense dissipated like smoke. The peryton wrinkled his soft-looking muzzle. “A pity. I could’ve asked the king for a favor.”

Before I could ask for more clarification, voices came from down the corridor in the opposite direction from the one I had come. Then I mentally corrected my assessment. It was only one voice, and it was feminine.

“What is the meaning of this? I told you my father will be looking for me. Unhand me, buffoon!”

The same servant who had escorted me appeared around the turn of the corridor. His hand firmly gripped the upper arm of a beautiful fae with large eyes and a mass of golden ringlets. Despite the distress in her voice, her appearance hadn’t been mussed in the least. The gentle tickle of glamor magic grew stronger as the pair approached.

“You, there, help! This buffoon dragged me away from my family. I require assistance to return to them.” Her tone dripped with pathetic desperation. Despite the fact I suspected at least some of the plea was playing on our pity, I could feel her genuine fear beneath the act.

“Must you?” I asked the elegantly appointed servant.

He met my gaze with an irritated glare. “Yes.” The tone was pointed and hard with anger. “I warned her that if she didn’t come willingly, I would take her unwillingly. She made her choice.”