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Another guard, some sort of supervisor, headed toward us. He was an older man, no longer suited for guard duty when the thing you were trying to keep out was strong and deadly.
Tourists were leaning out windows to see us, undoubtedly expecting to see a beheading.
“May I present the next of queen of the fae,” Eli said, louder still.
More phones and cameras began to pop up in cars, and in the next minute the guards and supervisors were bowing theirs heads to me. To us.
I glared at him. In his defense, I was about to be outed asdraugrbefore he stepped in with his explanation.
Fae can’t lie, though.
Did our pending nuptials really change me?
Either way, he’d saved me from disaster, and that added a lot to my willingness to play to a camera. I hated cameras. I hated publicity. This right here, this was on my list of reasons I didn’t want to be queen. I had no idea whatsoever of how to act.
Jeans, his shirt, and a slinky scrap of lace felt too informal for my outing as the future—
I couldn’t even think the words.
The guards straightened, and the supervisor stepped in. “We will still affix the security bracelet, so we can aid you if you are delayed,” he started.
“Diplomatic immunity,” Eli countered with alacrity. “You will not be placing your metal trinket on the skin of the fae.”
“So just the w—”
“My bride is an extension of my being.” Eli raised both brows. “We wouldn’t want to anger the fae, officer. My people are quick to curse if their royals are impugned.”
“Let me make a call.” The supervisor walked away, leaving us standing there as snap happy people took our pictures.
“Fuck a duck, Eli.”
“Smile, bonbon, or I shall be required to make a scene of devotion for these images.” Eli had that tone, the one that reminded me of his uncle, the one that reminded me that the fae are not human despite appearances.
“Purpose?” I prompted. I could do this. I could be the future wife and faery queen.
“To show that we are smitten.” Eli gazed at me, façade dropping suddenly, and the look that was typically reserved for private moments was right there. “To let your nation’s people know that this is the fairy tale.”
“An awful lot of blood for a fairy tale,” I muttered.
He laughed. “The oldest ones were bloody, gruesome, and graphic.”
I reached out an let my hand caress his cheek. “Rating?”
“All ages, Geneviève.” He held my gaze. “For now.”
I kissed him softly, briefly, and leaned into his embrace. Then, he offered me an elbow and escorted me back to the car. There was no posturing in it. That was simply how he treated me. Maybe, I didn’t need a ball gown to look like his queen, after all.
The supervisor approached us, bowed briefly to me and then to Eli. “Should you need anything . . .” The man extended a card to Eli. “Enjoy Houston, sir.”
No wristlets. No delays.
“Perhaps, we ought to notify the others that we are exposed,” Eli said mildly as we drove beyond the checkpoint and into the city.
I texted Jesse, Sera, Christy, Ally, and then called the bar. Once they were all updated, I shut my phone off. I wasn’t ready for headlines.
“My uncle will be pleased.” Eli glanced at me.
“Oh?”
