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“You’re right. I’m too ancient to be using that dandified court name of yours anyway, Fen—”
My finger shot to my lips. My eyes clicked toward the hallway, which led to the room where Briar slept. I refused to have my real name trumpeted within spitting distance of her. The name was private and only for Jinny to utter.
“The female waylaid me,” I defended, lowering my voice.
“But she isn’t just any female, is she? I know a lady when I see one.”
“She’s a princess.”
Old Jinny swiveled her head toward me. “Well, your taste has gotten even more expensive,” she replied, amazement and apprehension clashing in her voice. “Do you mean she’s Briar of Autumn?”
Jinny may be tucked away in this forest, but she’d known about the Peace Talks. Weeks ago, I’d listed the princess as the only Royal successor attending the spree.
Tracing my fingers around the rim of my cup, I toiled through a bland version of the events, starting with her pursuit of me and ending with the leenix. Although I’d told the princess to run, she hadn’t listened. Quite the contrary, she got in the way.
She did that in abundance. Everything about her tended to get in the way.
On the other hand, if the princess wanted to turn alpha, that was her choice. I had no quandary there. Certain insipid and unimpressive men in this court would glance down to make sure their balls hadn’t fallen off by now, but neither my masculinity, nor my confidence suffered. The jester jewels weren’t going anywhere. It was the other vital organs, located in the upper regions of my body, that I’d begun to second-guess.
“Saved your hide, did she?” Jinny translated. “Granted, I’ll thank her heroism once I know the rest of her is harmless.”
“It is,” I said, reclining in the chair and contemplating the fire as it chewed on the logs. “There’s no prejudice in that Royal’s blood. My fatherly intuition is intact, and it detects compassion.”
“Hmm. I wonder if it’s truly your fatherly intuition that vouches for her. From where I’m sitting, you’re right splotchy.”
For fuck’s sake. That knowing twinkle of hers was the purest form of teasing.
A protest teetered on my lips. I should have let it out or mocked the situation, but that would have been the intelligent thing to do, and where that princess was concerned, I’d been on a destructive path since the welcome feast.
Trusting the Royal wasn’t exactly smart. No matter that Briar rescued me, for a droplet of doubt still trickled through my mind, which I’d deal with once she woke up.
Jinny cut off whatever I could have said. “She can take a wildcat wound, that’s for sure.”
“My sentiments exactly.”
“She lasted a while before keeling over. Much better than you. The day you survive a splinter is the day I become a sorceress.”
My eyes slitted. “Let’s not exaggerate.”
“Reminded me of when you were six.”
I groaned. She loved to tell this damned story.
“We’d just returned from a fest,” Jinny reminisced. “You and your obsession with sunset carnivals, always watching the jesters, your little face glowing with awe.”
“Not always,” I reminded her.
The sunset carnivals could be lush, enigmatic, mysterious. They could be gritty and beautiful—darkly enchanting. But they also had their vicious sides, the gruesome parts covered in thick layers of pomp and glitz. It didn’t take much to notice once a person opened their fucking eyes and looked closer. Alas, most people didn’t.
“No, of course,” Jinny agreed. “But that day when we got home, you imitated those jesters for hours, twirling from rock to rock in the grass. And when you fell—”
“Istumbled.”
“—and scraped yourself raw, I never saw the like when I dabbed a wet cloth on your knees. You howled bloody murder.”
My elbow hit the table as I pointed at her. “That part never happened.”
“Go ahead. Deny it.”
