Stopping Time and Old Habits (Wicked Lovely 2.50)

The new Dark King had played them all like pawns.

Irial started to back away, and the Hound next to him clamped a hand on his arm. Irial glanced from her to Niall, who grinned, dodged a punch from a glaistig, and came over to stand beside him. “I don’t think you were dismissed.”

The Hound and the glaistig both laughed.

I love my court.

“As you wish.” Irial stepped around the Hound to lean against a wall out of the fight. He had more than his fill of fighting. If he could fight Niall, it’d be different, but fighting for random sport wasn’t his preferred entertainment.

Almost an hour later, Devlin bowed to Gabriel and then to Niall.

The faeries dispersed, limping, bleeding, stumbling— and chortling with glee.

“The High Queen sends her greetings,” Devlin said as he approached Niall. “She reminds the new Dark King that he is no different than any other faery and that she expects him to abide by the same restraints the last”—Devlin looked at Irial then—“Dark King observed.”

None of them voiced the unspoken truths about the numerous visits that Irial had paid to the High Queen in Faerie, but they all knew of those visits. Such is the way of it. Irial kept his gaze on his king rather than reply to Devlin. It was the king who needed to answer the invitation implicit in those words.

Niall didn’t disappoint.

“Please let Sorcha know that her greeting was received, that her Assassin has made her willingness to strike at me and mine abundantly clear, and”—Niall stood face-to-face with Devlin—“if she ever touches those under my protection without just cause, I will be at her step.”

Devlin nodded. “Will you be requesting an audience with her?”

“No,” Niall said. “There is nothing and no one in Faerie right now that interests me enough to visit.”

For a breath, Irial thought Devlin was going to strike Niall, but the moment passed.

Then Niall smiled. He gestured behind him and a Vila escorted a sightless mortal man into the room.

“Blinding them and leaving them helpless”—Niall didn’t turn to look at the mortal—“is unacceptable. My court has offered this man protection. He will not be taken to Faerie or otherwise accosted.” He kept his gaze on Devlin.

The ghost of a smile flickered on Devlin’s face, but all he said was: “I shall relay the message to my queen.”

“And any discussion she has on Dark Court matters”— Niall stepped forward—“will be handled between regents or via official emissaries.”

Devlin did smile this time. “My queen has only one emissary. Do you have a chosen proxy?”

“As of this moment, no, but”—Niall glanced at Irial— “perhaps that will change in time.” The Dark King turned his back on all of them then and said only, “Gabriel.”

The Hound inclined his head toward the door, and Devlin preceded Gabriel toward it. The two faeries walked out of the building, and then Irial and Niall were left alone in the destruction.

Irial waited for the words that went with the frustrated anger that he could taste. He counted a dozen heartbeats before his king turned to face him.

“Don’t push me again, Iri,” Niall whispered. “I rule this damnable court now, and I’ll do it with you on my side—as you promised—or with you under my boot.”

Irial opened his mouth, but Niall growled.

“You tell me you care about them, and about me, so you better prove it.” Niall blinked against a trickle of blood that ran into his eye. “I don’t expect you to change today, but you need to trust me more than you have.”

“I trust you with my life.” Irial ripped the edge of his shirt off and held it out.

“I know that,” Niall muttered. “Now try trusting me with my life.”

And to that, Irial had no reply. He kept his mouth closed as Niall stomped through the destruction and left. The Dark King was here, truly and fully, and Irial would do what he could to serve his king.

As truthfully as I can.

There was no way to tell Niall everything, but he had three years before he had to be fully honest. An otherwise unoccupied faery could get a lot accomplished in three years, and the sort of king Niall was could get his court in order in far less time than that. All told, the Dark Court was better off than it had been in quite some time.