The High Queen’s brother was never unexpected when he was within the boundaries of Faerie. His activities in the mortal world, however, belied his insistence that he was a creature of order.
Devlin began, “I will be in the mortal world for business. As a courtesy to the current Dark King, I would let you know—”
“I’ll tell him.” Irial paused, tasting Devlin’s emotions even as the High Court assassin repressed them. “Perhaps the court could offer you our hospitalities?”
“Your intercession is kind.” Devlin nodded curtly and turned away. The relief he vehemently suppressed was all the sweeter for the guilt that threaded through it.
“One of these days, you’re going to admit to her that you belong in the shadows,” Irial murmured.
But despite fey hearing, Devlin did not reply. He was a curious one, claiming allegiance to Order even though the shadows in him belied his court affiliation.
Like Niall before. The new Dark King had clung to the frivolity of the Summer Court, denied his pleasure in a good fight or skillful manipulation, for centuries. He was settling in to his rightful court of late, but he hadn’t shaken the judgmental habit that he’d picked up over the years. Should he know of the things Irial handled behind the scenes, it would be worrisome. It wasn’t that any one secret would be particularly traumatic for Niall to learn of, but the sheer number of secrets Irial kept made waiting seem prudent. Niall was at a delicate place in adjusting to the court.
And I am unwilling to tell him things that will make him frown at me.
Ranting was acceptable. A certain amount of violence could be overlooked. It was disgust and disappointment that Irial hoped to avoid.
Chapter 4
After centuries of making the transition, the journey from Faerie to the mortal world still felt jarring. The differently colored landscape, the disconnection time, and the hordes of mortals all thrilled and displeased him simultaneously. Faerie was unchanged for all of eternity, but the mortal world seemed to alter in a moment. Irial marveled at the ways the world had evolved in the centuries that stretched behind him, and he wondered what would follow their already remarkable progress. Some faeries found mortals to be little more than vermin, but Irial was enthralled by them. More so since I am no longer a king. Of course, he was more fascinated by the faery he now approached.
The new Dark King stiffened as Irial came to stand beside him. It was a conscious effort, an attempt at a lie of sorts to pretend that Niall was unhappy to see him. They were both aware of the fact that, as Dark King, Niall had known where Irial was for several moments prior to this. He’d felt Irial’s emotions, knew them well enough to identify Irial without looking behind him. Irial smiled and let his joy at seeing Niall flare.
The king glanced at him. “Why are you here?”
Irial lowered his gaze respectfully. “I am seeking an audience with the Dark King.”
“How did I you know I was here?” Niall asked.
“You are fond of the spot when you are pensive.” Rather than bother hiding it, Irial let himself reveal his happiness at that truth. Communicating with Niall was far easier now that Niall could taste all of Irial’s emotions. “I know you, Niall. I know your habits. This space”—Irial gestured at the small courtyard outside the mortals’ library—“soothes you.”
Irial smiled as he thought of the year it had been built. He’d been bored, and while he couldn’t create, he could fill the architect’s mind with visions.
“Columns?” the man repeated.
“Strange, isn’t it?” Irial murmured. “Utterly impractical. Who cares what a place looks like?”
“Right.”
Irial continued, “And there were statues, towering nearly naked women; can you imagine?”
Niall stood staring at the columns that stood on either side of the ornate wooden door to the library. “It always looks familiar.”
“Indeed.”
“The building . . . it’s like somewhere I’ve seen before.” Niall prodded, but he kept his attention on the building as he spoke. “Why is that?”
“It’s hard to say,” Irial demurred.
Niall glanced his way. “I can taste your emotions, Irial. It’s not a coincidence that I find it familiar, is it?”
“You know, my King, it’s much easier to get answers when you order people to obey you.” Irial smiled at a young mother with a pair of energetic toddlers. There was something enchanting about the unrestrained enthusiasm of children of any species. He had a fleeting regret that he hadn’t any young to indulge, but such regrets were followed by memories of half-mortal Dark Court offspring who were as easily contained as feral beasts. Beautiful chaotic things, children. He’d loved several of them as if they were his own.
“Irial.” Niall’s tone was testy now. “Why does the library look familiar?”
Irial stepped up to stand a bit closer than his king would allow. Their shoulders were brushing, and Irial whispered, “Because a very long time ago, you were happy in the courtyard of a building very like this one.”
Niall tensed.