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As if on cue, the front doors opened behind us. We both turned, and I stared wide-eyed as the big deer-headed Higher Spirit lumbered into the hall, a leather satchel slung over his shoulder.
“Ah.” His long snout stretched into a smile as he saw us. “Good morning, Lonan. And Seelie King Ash.” He dipped his head. “It is good to see you again.”
“G-good morning,” I stammered, staring in shock as he reached us and briefly cupped Lonan’s cheek in his huge palm in an affectionate gesture. And Lonan let him.
In fact, the smile on Lonan’s face was one I’d never seen before as he looked up at Sloga. Warm affection and simple happiness at seeing him again, like how someone might smile at a beloved family member they hadn’t seen in a while.
Something about that smile made me instantly relax, and I offered Sloga one of my own as he patted my shoulder, making his way past me into the throne room. It was comforting to know that he’d have people with him when I couldn’t be here. The family Lonan had been forced to grow up with was despicable. Unloving and cruel. So now that he was free to, he’d made his own.
“Idony.” Sloga’s deep voice echoed from the throne room, his tone mildly stern. “I really don’t think you should be sitting in Lonan’s throne.”
Lonan chuckled and turned to face me, resting his palm on my chest. “Are you ready to hear about him?” His smile dimmed. “Some of it is… painful.”
I could see how important this was to him, and I wanted to know everything about his life, his history—everything he was willing to share. Tangling our fingers together, I leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I’m ready to hear all of it.”
We ended up moving into a sparsely furnished sitting room before Sloga told me the harrowing story of what had happened to Lonan’s father. The Higher Spirit hunched in on himself as he spoke, sitting cross-legged on a cushion Lonan had dragged onto the floor for him.
Idony’s little white dog was curled up in his lap, his huge hand smoothing over its fur in a self-soothing gesture while he recounted every terrible thing the Carlin had done to Faulis.
My throat ached from holding back tears by the time he stopped speaking and let out a weary sigh. Lonan was rigid beside me, his hand clenched tightly in mine and his black eyes glittering with unshed tears as he stared vacantly at nothing.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to him.
His eyes flickered before he gave me a hollow smile. “At least she’s gone now. And I’ll see him one day, when Ankou takes me to the afterlife.”
I managed not to flinch, the thought of Lonan dying more than I could handle. But his words made a different kind of sorrow sink into my bones, a sharp pain shooting through my chest, and it took me a few seconds to realise why.
I’d never really been sure what I’d believed came after death before, when I was mortal, but apparently there was a real, actual afterlife for the fae. The one Ankou escorted them all to, or maybe even more than one. Like heaven and hell.
I was so glad that Lonan would one day get to meet his father. But I’d never see mine again. He and Mags wouldn’t be waiting for me in the fae afterlife.
My chin wobbled before I clenched my jaw. Now wasn’t the time to grieve about that, as gut-wrenching as the realisation was. Lifting our joined hands, I kissed Lonan’s knuckles, my voice unsteady when I said, “He’ll be waiting for you.”
Lonan gave me a tiny smile, and I didn’t know if he could see the bleakness in my eyes, but his gaze flickered over my face before he dipped down to press a kiss to my shoulder, then rested his cheek there.
I glanced over at Sloga and Idony, who were conversing quietly as the former poured tea into four cups. Lonan had never let himself be vulnerable like this in front of others. He’d been affectionate with me, yes—never ashamed to give me brief touches or kiss me in public. But never quite this soft, like he was willing to show that he needed me as much as I desperately needed him.
I kissed the top of his head, breathing in his scent, then looked up when Idony spoke.
“Before we move on to nicer things…” She glanced at Lonan before focusing on Sloga. “I’ve always wondered… did Faulis take the Carlin’s eye?”
Lonan’s head snapped up. “What makes you ask that?”
“She had both before you were born,” Idony explained. “And then when I saw her at the pyre-burning the night after, on the first night of the Bitter Months that year, she was wearing a patch.”
“Nua actually mentioned to me that she lost it fairly recently,” I said. “But he didn’t know how.”
We all looked at Sloga. He shook his head, eyes grave. “It wasn’t Faulis. He wouldn’t have risked injuring her while she was pregnant with Lonan. It was his mother.”
After a moment of stunned silence, Lonan echoed, “His mother?”
“As soon as I had taken him back to my sidhe, I went to tell his parents that he was gone.” Sloga’s voice grew thick, a faint tremor still in his hands as he needlessly rearranged the cups in front of him. “It was… terrible. They were…”
He cut himself off with a sharp breath, a shudder running down his hunched back. Idony shifted closer to comfort him, resting her cheek on his arm.
“I found out after that they went to the Midsith to confront her while she was there for the changing of the seasons,” he continued, his rumbling voice hoarse. “They waited outside with the solitary Folk who went to spectate. The Brid and her entourage left first, and when the Carlin came out… Faulis’ mother ran at her with a dagger and managed to plunge it into her eye before the guards cut her down. When his father tried to protect her, they killed him too.”
I could feel that familiar murderous anger rising inside me, so I let out a slow breath, trying to force it back. Being angry wouldn’t help Lonan, and this was about Lonan’s family, not mine.
