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“Fantastic.” His gaze darkened and darted toward her mate. “I should mention the council is rather strict about those in attendance.”
Her mood shifted as if he’d plucked the sun from the sky. “He’s my mate. He goes where I go.”
Niall inclined his head and gave her a sorrowful look. “I understand completely. It took quite some convincing for them to allow his presence in the city, but I’m afraid they won’t budge on this matter. Many harbor deep-seated feelings toward his past actions.”
Her anger bubbled over, threatening to burst free but—could she fault them for it? Her instincts wanted to rage against ill feelings directed at her mate, but was that logical? No. He’d hurt people, and their feelings were something she’d have to consider as queen. It would be a long road of healing for everyone.
“Talon will attend in my place,” Rion said. She raised a brow at him.
Niall shifted on his feet. “I’m afraid the male doesn’t carry the . . . appropriate social standing necessary to warrant hearing the details within that room.”
Arianna flashed her teeth. “One of them goes,” she stated. “Or I don’t.”
Chapter Twenty
Arianna
Niall had dipped his head in apology then dismissed himself, leaving her and Rion to explore the interior rooms of the manor alone.
“You lied to him,” Rion said.
Arianna studied painting after painting down the first floor hall. She gave Rion a sheepish grin. “Omitting the truth is different than lying.” Word manipulation was the only way a Fae could lie unless they were talking to a human or half-breed.
“Why omit anything?” Rion asked.
She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. “I just didn’t want him knowing something you don’t is all.”
Rion pulled her to a stop and brushed the hair away from her face. He studied her eyes as if he could memorize every color of blue within the iris. “What is it? Your favorite flower.”
Arianna pulled away with a mischievous look. “Perhaps I won’t tell you.” She glanced over her shoulder with her arms clasped behind her back, a teasing smile covering her face.
Then Rion was spinning her, his hand behind her head to prevent it from hitting the wall as he pressed her against it. She gasped when his hungry lips moved against her own and his body pressed close.
Heat flooded her and sudden need had her grasping his shirt. Rion moved his mouth with aching slowness, drinking her in, owning her, claiming her.
He pulled back slightly, leaving her breathless and reeling. “Will you tell me now?”
“That’s not fair.”
He smirked. “I never promised to play fair.”
His gaze flicked to her lips then back to her eyes and Arianna thought she might explode from the feeling barreling through her. “Iris,” she swallowed. “Purple iris.”
Rion didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers caressed a tendril of loose hair hanging along the side of her face. His knuckles brushed down the length of her throat before those hands were over her collarbone. Lower. “It suits you.”
Arianna couldn’t breathe.
Then someone cleared their throat behind her mate and she jolted. They were in the middle of the hall where anyone could see them. Suddenly Rion was too close, his roaming hands too public, but her mate was slow to move. Reluctant to pull away.
His gaze locked onto the male standing across the hall. Perfect eyebrows, strong jawline, and eyes as pitch-black as his hair. Fear pulsed from him, but he merely bowed his head. “My deepest apologies for interrupting.” His straight hair hung over round eyes as he tried to look everywhere else but at the couple.
Arianna noted the familiar Pádraigín scent as she took in his green tunic and dark brown pants. The male even wore a braided leather bracelet on his left wrist with small jade stones threaded throughout.
“The Regent sent me to find you in case you required assistance.”
Rion straightened and stepped away from her. “You mean he sent you to spy on us.”
The male had enough sense to step back, his head bowing as low as it could while maintaining eye contact. He looked like he wanted to run. “Yes,” the male stammered. “Though he didn’t want you to know that part.” His words were rushed, clipped. “I-I wouldn’t dare intervene, though.”
