The Iron Crown (The Darkest Court)

“No.”

“What?”

I stand to my full height, which forces the ass to look up at me. “I said no.”

Aghast, he takes a step backwards. “Do you know who I am?”

“I do not. Nor do I care.” He sputters, but I press on, tired of his posturing and wishing Lugh would return with an excuse for me to walk away. “I speak for the seidhr, and he and the gods have not seen fit to give me your name.”

The crowd surrounding us has fallen silent. None speak up against me. None defend their comrade. Instead, they leave him to flush and bristle when Aage, Lugh, and Resnik come over.

“Keiran,” Lugh calls to me. Somehow, his voice manages to chastise and tremble with amusement at the same time. “We must speak. Come.”

I obey, bowing to Aage before following Lugh, ignoring everything and everyone else as he leads me back into the hall. There’s no one here; all of Aage’s retainers are busy helping move gear into the waiting rooms or are working to untack the horses after their long journey.

Lugh selects a chair by one of the smaller cooking fires

. He sits astride it and rests his chin on his crossed arms. He waits for me to settle in on the chair across from him before asking with mock solemnity, “Making friends already, I see.”

“He spoke badly of you,” I grumble.

He gives a faint snort of amusement. “You did better with him than I would have, Keir, but we shouldn’t instigate if we can avoid it. The Mainlanders are trying to find any cracks they can in Aage’s armor. They’ll be watching us closely in hopes they can demonstrate Aage’s support of us is a poor idea.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We’ve just got to make it through tonight.”

“It’ll be better once the Northern clans arrive tomorrow,” I agree. “It’s harder to bully others when their supporters are near.”

“True.” Lugh gives me a fond smile. “Your presence did seem to deter my brothers from the worst of their teasing.”

“We must remember those interactions differently.”

“No.” Lugh shakes his head. “You’ve always been able to influence people. You’re a good man, Keir. The best I know. But even you have your limits, and I’d prefer you didn’t push them too far tonight. I’ll need you tomorrow. You know how eager the Northerners will be to visit with us in the morning. Save your energy and your stories for them.” He rises and spins his chair back toward its original spot before patting my shoulder. “I’ll rejoin Aage. You should go to bed.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone with them,” I argue.

“The Hunt will happily shadow me, if it makes you feel better. They’ve had about enough of these bastards and they’ve only just arrived.” Lugh looks toward the doors and grimaces. “Go on. Goddess, and Aage, willing, I’ll be joining you shortly.”

I laugh and watch him walk away, forcing myself to stay seated. I may not like the newest Sluagh to join us here, but Krigsmöte is a sacred place where bloodshed is forbidden and Lugh is sure he’ll be safe. I’m not filled with the same confidence, but I trust him. I also trust that the Hunt will gut anyone who comes to injure him, which is the only reason I obey Lugh’s order and head for our chambers.

Sleep doesn’t come for me though. I lie awake, staring at our ceiling. The moment near the fire replays in my mind.

It shouldn’t mean anything. Lugh and I tease and compliment each other all the time. But something about tonight was different. He looked different somehow. I close my eyes and I can see it all. The firelight dancing behind his messy hair. The bunched muscle of his shoulders as he leans his weight forward onto the chair. The affection in his eyes and the slow sweep of dark lashes when he tries to hide the way he’s been watching me. It’d be easier to believe if he weren’t always watching me, a detail I know because usually I’m watching him right back.

My breath catches and the blankets against my skin send my pulse racing. I roll away from Lugh’s empty spot and cling to the farthest edge of the bed. I need to sleep. I need to forget how my body responds to his like he’s my true north.

I pretend to be asleep when Lugh finally comes back. He moves quietly about the room before sliding under the covers. He doesn’t reach out to me or curl up against me. He does whisper, “Good night, Keir,” moments before his breathing steadies in sleep.

Morning will be here soon. I need to sleep. I need to force myself to rest while I can.

Despite my best intentions, I fall asleep imagining Lugh’s mouth curving up in the private smile he saves for me alone before his lips part on a whisper of my name.

Lugh

The draugr growls and moves under my skin, vibrating my bones with its wordless threats.

The long audience hall of the Seelie palace is a ridiculous confection of architecture. Gold gilding. Empty thrones on the dais. Windows from floor to ceiling to reflect in the sun’s light.