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“He succeeded then. Despite how little I know of fairy politics, King Carrington’s military reputation is well known.”
“That it is. He bled and suffered for every one of those medals he bears today, I assure you.”
“So, he didn’t have a father to see him through into adulthood. This has put him at odds with Prince Lennox?” I asked, steering the conversation back to the point.
Eldrick frowned again, and I had to admit that even that expression was attractive on him. Wrinkles furrowed his brow, and his eyes went far off and thoughtful. “Lennox is a man of a different skill set than his father. The King earned respect with fists and swords.”
“I’m assuming Lennox has not.”
“No.” Eldrick shrugged. “Nor does it matter, really. We aren’t the weak and war-torn nation we once were. What’s needed now is diplomacy which”—his lips peeled apart into another smile—“the Prince is well suited for. A divine appointment as far as I’m concerned.”
“Does the King agree?”
Eldrick released a breath and lifted his glass to his lips. His tongue flicked out and followed a bead of wine. I swallowed as warmth settled in me. “The King wants the Seelie to be strong. I believe both of our leaders have potential to make us strong in different ways.”
“And Lira will contribute as well?”
“Hopefully so. What would you say is her greatest strength?”
“Compassion,” I answered before pausing to think if that made her appear weak.
But Eldrick gave a bob of his head. “A trait she likely inherited from her father.”
“Is that so?” From the few rumors I’d heard of the King and my limited time with him, that was the last word I’d use to describe him.
Eldrick chuckled and ran his thumb along his jaw then over his bottom lip. “It may surprise you, but the King, for all his steely exterior, has a tender heart. He’s volunteering presently, for example.”
“Volunteering?” I didn’t understand why a king would ever spend his spare time working for free.
He nodded. “Yes, we have an infirmary for any Seelie who lack close family and are near the end of their lives. Queen Margaret—may God keep her soul—died alone, you see, and King Carrington vowed no other Seelie would face that. He pays for medical care and staff. Plus, he spends his lunch hour each day talking with the patients, hoping to comfort them.”
“I think you’re right then. Lira is compassionate like her father.” The devil knew she didn’t get it from her mother even if it seemed equally unlikely to have come from her father’s side. Anyway, Eldrick had already told me what I needed to know. The King volunteered every afternoon at the same hour, meaning his office would be empty. If I wanted answers quickly, I suspected that would be the place to look and perhaps, if I was careful, I could evade the guard and sense any wards that might tip off the King as well.
We continued the conversation, and I answered a variety of questions about Lira’s preferences and shared more details about strengths she possessed—bravery, intelligence, poise. As Eldrick walked me back through his bedroom at the end of the meal, I turned on him. “Are you truly going to say goodbye and let me walk away?”
He cocked his head. “What do you wish for me to say instead?”
“I thought we both agreed that forward worked for us. I’d hate to be disappointed, after all.”
Another one of his smiles that sent a flurry of energy pulsing through me flowed across his cheeks. “I’d hate to disappoint someone so charming.” He stepped forward, wrapped his long fingers around my waist, and captured my mouth with his. One swipe of his tongue over my lips and I knew he had nothing to fear about disappointing me.
We stumbled towards his bed, and I began unbuttoning his shirt so I could slide my hands over his skin.
Fun this afternoon. Then tomorrow I’d go looking for answers.
CHAPTERTWENTY
LENNOX
I paced across a colorful rug,my hands tucked behind my back. The bedroom the Maharani placed me in was richly decorated with large windows overlooking a fountain which sprayed water onto turquoise tiles. They glimmered like beads of the sun tricked across them. The entire Prasanna palace—what I’d seen of it at least—was beautiful.
It made me think endlessly of Shaan.
The bold paint colors he used which often ended up splattered on his long fingers or speckling his rolled kurta sleeves. The attention to detail he brought to every fucking thing he touched. I saw him in the filigree that topped the windows and the floral fabrics that draped over the bed. This entire palace seemed to sing of his presence, like he was a beacon that hummed for me beyond the walls. I longed to find him so desperately. I still remembered the man I’d fallen in love with, the warmth of his embrace, the scrape of his fingers as he brushed hair back from my face.
I closed my eyes to press the memories away.
Being stuck in this room waiting left a gulf of space for the assault of memories that would swallow me.
