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“What kind of issues do you think the Folk are going to come to me with?” His gold-green eyes gazed at me anxiously. “I shouldn’t have said that so soon. I should’ve given myself time to—”
“Ash.” I cupped his face and kissed him. “You’ll befine. You’re handling this all so well. Like you were always meant to do it.”
He didn’t look convinced. “Maybe… maybe Nua could be my adviser or something.”
I nodded, releasing him and stepping back when I noticed the seelie fae entering the throne room, panting and out of breath like he’d run here.
“That’s a good idea,” I said as I nodded towards him.
“Oh.” Ash flushed and quickly took his seat. “Hello.”
“I was told you wanted to see me, my king.”
The fae was squat, with ruddy skin and a long ginger beard. His hair was tied back into a braid that trailed on the floor behind him.
I resisted the urge to smile as I glanced over at Ash, specifically his wild crown of curls. He’d promised me that he wouldn’t cut it, but I wouldn’t hold him to it. I wondered how long he’d let it get before he did. I loved it. Loved running my hands through it. Gripping it tight to hold him to me.
“Yes.” Ash smiled at the blacksmith. “I appreciate you coming. So, thrones. The more imposing the better.”
