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They certainly wouldn’t believe that Shim and Lach had been the ones to bring her back to life, giving a piece of their soul and half of Lach’s face in return.
“Father isn’t interested in our counsel.” Shim was well aware of the bitter flavor to his words.
Lach stared down at him. “Well, it doesn’t help when half of us goes down to the beach and no one can find us.”
Shim knew he hadn’t helped things, but he couldn’t resist. He’d woken this morning and he’d felt sunshine on his face. He’d smiled because it was a cloudy day here. But Bron could feel the sun, and Shim could feel her delight in it. He was suffused with her unique energy as she’d run through the fields.
He never got words, only images and feelings. But if he concentrated, if he went deep into himself and caught hold of the invisible thread that was always there in his brain, he could see through her eyes. It was how he’d known his sister was still alive.
His father didn’t believe that either.
“I’ll tell you about the men you don’t recognize if you’ll give me the lowdown on your party,” the queen offered.
Kaja had joined her queen, their closeness obvious. “I would like to know their names as well.”
Lach reached down and grabbed the mug from Duffy’s hand, taking a drink before handing it back. Again, if the queen was shocked that his brother would share with a gnome, she didn’t show it. What had she called Duffy? A third brother. The queen, it appeared, might make an interesting ally. Lach caught his eye and gave him an almost imperceptible nod. He was fine with sharing information.
“The man on my father’s right is named Maon. He’s been Da’s advisor since long before we were born. He’s been arguing that we should go to war with Torin the Pretender since we got the news of the coup.”
“Torin the Pretender?” Lach chuckled gruffly. “More like Torin the Fucking Asshole.”
Meg turned to Lach. “I rather like you.”
Lach shrugged. “Give it a little time. I can probably change your mind.”
“Well, at least I know which one is which. It’s nice to meet you, Prince Lachlan.” She turned to Shim. “Prince Shim. Julian gave us a rundown on how the two of you split. I was told you’re the sweet one, and he’s the big ball of insecurity.”
Lach’s jaw dropped. “What?”
Kaja laughed. “He did not use such words, Meg. He spoke of Prince Shim’s gentle soul and Prince Lach’s gruffness.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been here and do this on a daily basis. Trust me, Kaj. The gruff one is always hiding his own insecurities. I bet that one there thinks his scars make him unattractive.”
Lach went a brutal shade of red. “I don’t talk about that. It’s rude for you to mention it.”
Queen Meg studied Lach for a moment, not a hint of distaste on her face. “See. And they don’t. They’re actually quite interesting. They give you character. What do you think, Kaj?”
A sly smile came over the brunette’s face. “I think he looks like a warrior. I find him very attractive. He is the First in this group. He simply hasn’t taken his place.”
But Shim needed to get back to something else that had been said. “I’m not gentle. For the gods’ sake, woman. Don’t be calling me such names. Do you want to insult me?”
“You are gentle, Shim.” Lach had a smile back on his face.
“I bloody well am not.”
“I got to agree, Shim,” Duffy added. “The last time you killed an ogre, you didn’t even eat the heart. Soft.”
“Ogre gives me indigestion.” Shim frowned. He wasn’t soft. He fucking wasn’t. He just had trouble wi
th his gut at times.
Kaja’s eyes went wide. “See, Meg, he got to eat the ogre.”
“No one’s eating ogres.” Dante Dellacourt put a hand on his wife’s waist. “Put it out of your mind, Kaj. And if I see you chasing the brownies, you’ll be over my lap.”
Dante Dellacourt was a celebrity in his world. Shim and Lach had spent some time on the Vampire plane. They had spent time being educated in more ways than one. They had gone to what the vampires called University, and they had been trained by their cousin, Julian, in the dark arts of Dominance and submission.
A vision of beautiful Bronwyn tied up and trussed for their pleasure crept over him.
