“Yes, Your Majesty,” Keiran says.
“Such an auspicious discovery. I’m amazed at our good fortune.” She sounds far from amazed. “And he has been brought here, alive, for interrogation?”
“Yes, Your Majesty, thanks to Prince Lugh’s decision.”
“Not yours?”
“No, Your Majesty. Your son stayed my hand in defense of your Court’s boundaries.”
Keiran’s formality grates against my nerves. There’s no way Mother could be looking for actual answers to these questions. I’m not sure what silent struggle they’re having, but it’s gone on long enough. I nudge at Keiran with my elbow. He ignores me. Mother ignores me as well.
She eyes Keiran and her frown is fully in place now. She should be happy with us for bringing back such a valuable prisoner. This is not going to plan.
I clear my throat and offer Mother my brightest smile. “If he’s alive, you and Roark can surely coax something from him. We just wanted to tell you why you’d have an unexpected guest before we headed out again and—”
“You will not be...heading out.” All her distaste for my casual remark is conveyed in that long pause.
No. This isn’t right. I open my mouth to protest, but now it’s Keiran’s elbow in my side, interrupting my train of thought.
Mother continues, “This timing is too convenient for my tastes. You and the Hunt will remain in Court until Roark and I have finished our interrogation. Only then will we discuss the possibility of your return to the Wylds. And your stubborn refusal to return home when ordered.” My stomach churns at her disapproving tone. She waves a hand toward the door as she rises from her throne. “Go settle in while I scry with your brother. I will send for you later.”
Keiran holds his tongue until the doors of the throne room close heavily behind us. Only after there are thick slabs of wood between us and Mother does he come to a halt, cro
ss his arms over his broad chest, and growl, “What was that you said about her overlooking our late return?”
“Shut up,” I grumble as I lead us back to the stables to break the bad news with the men. “I’m sure we’ll get out of here soon enough.”
Chapter Two
Lugh
“This was not what I had in mind,” I promise Keiran as we check our armor one last time, “but we are getting out of the sídhe sooner rather than later.”
He runs a hand over his knife belt, ensuring each blade is in place, and scowls at me. “Do not make me walk away from you.”
“Come on, Keir. It’s just a quick ride and—”
He turns and stalks toward the stall where Dubh is waiting before I can finish my lame excuse. I can’t really blame him. Keiran isn’t fond of riding into potentially dangerous situations without a plan, and what we’ve thrown together is tenuous at best.
The past few hours have been chaotic. Mother called Roark home from Mather’s to help her with the interrogation. When they finished, Mother summoned Keiran and me back to the throne room, where we learned we would be heading into the Wylds to retrieve Sláine. Apparently, the gardener came across a small cottage on the edge of the Seelie lands as he fled the Court and saw Sláine there. Mother worked on the faerie longer than usual to see if he was planting inaccurate information, but his story never changed. According to him, Sláine is walking the woods, and we need to investigate his presence.
It was Roark’s idea to use the Hunt rather than a full retinue of redcap guards. The cottage isn’t technically in Seelie territory, but it’s so close to the border that our intentions will be questioned if we’re caught there. Taking a small group known for exploring new areas will look better if anything goes wrong, according to Roark, who’s ever mindful of not upsetting the Pantheons. I’m not sure what he meant when he talked about the tensions at Mather’s leaving us under higher scrutiny, but I’m glad he said it because it made Mother agree to his plan.
And that led us to this moment, when the stables are in disarray as hobs try to assist us before we ride out. Sometimes I forget just how little the Wild Hunt is actually in Court, and how uncomfortable the other Unseelie are around us. Cybel’s warned the hobs enough times to leave his shit alone that they’ve finally listened; Armel and Drest have had far less luck and stand just outside their horses’ stalls, grumbling as they wait for the hobs to lead out their mounts. Keiran and I have been mostly ignored since I finally played my princely card and told the hobs we’d sort our own gear. Now that my armor and weapons are together, all I’ve got left to do is finish preparing Liath for the ride. Too bad he’s already in a flighty, nervous mood. His ill temper seems to leak past his stall into Dubh’s, where Keiran’s normally placid horse tosses his head and shifts under Keiran’s calming touch.
“Liath,” I call, and receive a whinny in response. “Calm down. I’ll be right there—”
“Lugh.”
Roark says my name with the same exasperated affection he always has. I can’t help but grin when I turn around to greet him. It’s a stupid reaction, a child’s reaction, one made instinctual after centuries of games and fighting practice. One that brings up memories of trailing after him through the halls, sharing desserts with him late at night in the kitchens, and passing notes back and forth during our lessons. It’s a reaction I shouldn’t have anymore because the moment Mother told Roark he’d be attending Mather’s, he began to change. The distance between us grew as he took on more diplomatic duties. Then, at Mother’s command, he began watching another student, some human with immense power, and the rare times we were both in Court together stopped completely. He stayed at Mather’s as often as he could, I stayed in the forests with the Hunt, and...and I suppose that’s why it’s a shock to see him join us now for the hunt, with less glamour hiding his features.
He’s paler than usual. Dark smudges have formed under his eyes. His body’s coiled with unusual tension, as if he’s a bowstring about to release.
“You look exhausted,” I blurt out.
“Sláine’s defection was ill timed,” he replies. His tone is bored, but I don’t miss the way his hand checks for something at his waist. “The faster we can secure our Court’s stability, the better. I’m... I’ve a great deal to do and little time to accomplish it in.”
“The area the gardener told us about is familiar,” I assure him. “We can get there and back quickly.”