Broken Dove (Fantasyland 4)

Then I took a sip.

* * * * *

Apollo

Apollo stood at the window in the formal sitting room at the front of the Winter Palace, impatient to get to his Maddie.

It was late. Dinner had been consumed. The children were in bed. Tomorrow was the hunt. Tomorrow evening the gale. Tomorrow night, it would be done.

They had planned for everything.

Absolutely everything.

Except one thing.

He heard the door open behind him and drew in an annoyed breath when the green witch glided in.

It was annoyed for he’d called for her over half an hour before and now she was gliding in as if wending her aimless way through a party.

She sent him a cat’s smile.

He turned away from the window and crossed his arms on his chest.

“You called?” she asked, coming into the room and stopping by a chair.

“And you know why I did,” he replied. “Have you seen him?”

She held his gaze but shook her head. “I have not.”

Apollo tipped his head to the side. “Your demeanor suggests you have no concerns about this,” he noted.

He didn’t like that her eyes slid away. She raised a hand and studied her nails as she again spoke, but he couldn’t help but think her nonchalance was a ruse.

“All is well-planned,” she told her nails.

“That does not answer my question,” he returned and she lifted her gaze to his, her brows arching.

“You asked a question?”

“Perhaps not. So I shall ask it now. Do you have no concerns about not being able to see the other me?”

Her gaze was again steady on his when she answered, “No. If you share with our colombe that he may be close.”

He shook his head. “I do not wish to frighten Maddie with that information.”

“I can understand that, mon loup. It is up to you whether you choose to frighten her or prepare her.”

Apollo felt his jaw get hard.

“It’s my opinion she must know,” Valentine continued.

It would be Maddie’s opinion as well.

Bloody hell.

“You’ve made your decision?” she asked, studying him closely.

“I’ll tell her.”

She seemed to relax which was something else he did not like.

“Alas, this puts a pall on a happy day,” she murmured.

It bloody well did.

He didn’t reply.

She tipped her head to the side, a small smile playing about her mouth. “Do you wish to know what she carries?”

Apollo felt his chest get tight.

“You know?”

“Of course, chéri.”

“Do you know if our child will come to us healthy and strong?”

She shook her head. “I can sense what the sex is of the child she carries, but I do not have the sight, Apollo.” Another small smile. “You could ask Meeta.”

He would do this.

Later.

After they had prevailed against their foes.

He held her eyes and declared, “I wish a daughter.”

Her eyes went half-mast before she whispered, “Then luck shines on you, mon loup.”

He felt his chest tighten.

Maddie carried his daughter.

Their daughter.

Gods, he hoped she had red hair and freckles.

But he’d take her as she came, just as long as she came, leaving her mother well and happy, arriving on this earth the same way.

Valentine took him out of his thoughts when she asked, “Is that all you needed?”

“Yes,” he replied.

She dipped her chin, her eyes never leaving him, and said, “Then I will leave you. Sleep well, chéri.”

He inclined his head and watched as she glided to the door and out of it.

He stared at the door for some time.

Then he left the room and moved through the Palace, three destinations to achieve before he joined Maddie in her chambers.

The first took him to the door of servants’ quarters.

The first maid he saw, he asked her to bring him Meeta.

“Of course, Lord Apollo,” she muttered and moved quickly away.

Apollo stood at the door, still impatient.

But unlike Valentine, Meeta didn’t make him wait.

“My lord,” she greeted, still fully dressed and this was likely due to the fact she intended to traverse the halls to find Ruben’s room. Indeed, he was lucky she wasn’t already there.

“Meeta,” he replied. “I call on you only briefly then I’ll leave you to the rest of your evening.”

She didn’t wait for him to ask.

She answered. “I do not see her.”

Apollo felt his brows draw together. “At all?”

“No,” she answered.

“You explained you could lock on her,” he reminded her.

“I explained I can pinpoint it if I sense something.” She shook her head. “However, I sense nothing.”

“So all is well,” he remarked.

“All is never well, wolf,” she said softly. “And I must admit, I am not privy to your plans but it is not lost on me we all journey here together under heavy guard with the protection of powerful witches so I knew before you mentioned it that something was stirring. In knowing this, I was concerned that I could see nothing at all. But Miss Maddie seems most content. Perhaps it’s is simply that there is nothing to see.”

By the gods, he hoped she was right.

“You’ll notify me if that changes,” he ordered.

“Most definitely,” she returned.

“Then I’ll bid goodnight to you then, Meeta.”

“And to you,” she replied on an inclination of her head.

He turned away, moved back into the house and up the steps.

His second destination was his daughter’s room. He made certain there was fresh fuel on the fire, the covers were high and she was tucked in before he brushed a kiss on her temple and left her.

His third destination was his son’s room. He went through the same motions as with Élan and exited his room.

This took him to his final destination.

He entered Maddie’s room and found her curled in a chair by the fire, a soft cream throw on her lap, her shawl on her shoulders, her body tipped to the side toward a lit lamp. She had a large sheaf of papers in her hands and her head was bent to them, her attention so acute on what she was reading, she didn’t look his way. Not even after the sound of the door catching could be heard.

“Dove?” he called, moving her way, and her body gave a soft jerk before her head came up.

When she saw him and her expression changed, he stopped dead.