Page 46 of The Fae King's Labyrinth

“But it would fit with the Unseelie king’s agenda.” Azulin ran his hands through his hair, standing it all on end.

I grimaced at him. “If you insist on thinking out loud, kindly explain yourself so I can follow your thoughts. Why would what fit with the Unseelie king’s plans?”

Azulin blinked. “Breaking the curse by requiring me to marry a mortal would fit perfectly with my rival’s apparent plan to subjugate the Seelie kingdom.” He began to pace, eating up the length of the room in long strides. I had to follow or risk losing consciousness.

“The Unseelies have long desired to be the sole masters of the Wild Woods. In the century before I was born, the kings—my father and the previous Unseelie king—warred over the border. Finally, the kings agreed to a duel to settle the question once and for all. The Unseelie king died, and my father was cursed with a wasting disease that has slowly eaten away at his mind ever since.”

Azulin stopped abruptly and bowed his head. Massaging his temples, he closed his eyes. “The following truce lasted until the Unseelie king cursed me to these monthly tortures of riding in the Wild Hunt against my will or—”

“Being forced into a labyrinth,” I finished for him.

He regarded me wearily. Exhaustion and pain lay barren in his expression. “I am sorry you were dragged into this.” He reached out as though to brush my arm, but at the last moment, he thrust the hand back though his hair instead.

The door opened, and Ghost entered. “Furintag has returned,” he announced.

Azulin drew in a deep breath and straightened to his full height, tugging at his clothing. Turning to face the door, an expression of disinterest on his face once more, he said, “Let them come.”

Furintag and a procession of younger servants entered. Within moments, a couch, a privacy screen, and a stack of books on an elegant table were installed in the corner behind Azulin’s desk.

“Which would you prefer?” Furintag asked as he held up two elegant gowns, both far finer than any I had ever seen before. Covered in lace and beading, they were fussier than I preferred. Still, I appreciated the gesture.

I indicated the pale-green gown and within moments, I was handed underthings and whisked behind the privacy screen to change. By the time I emerged, only Furintag, Ghost, and Azulinremained in the room and the dishes from our—my—meal had been cleared away.

“I will take those.” Furintag claimed my discarded clothing. “Will that be all, sire?”

Azulin looked up from a piece of paper he was consulting and nodded. “Thank you, Furintag.”

The servant bowed and left.

I turned to ask Azulin for clarification about the whole “mortals bringing down the fae court”, but before the words left my mouth, Soren opened the door and announced the arrival of the elvish delegate.

∞∞∞

Azulin

“Your communications of late have given rise to questions.” Illeron Whispier, the king of Eldarlan’s spymaster and the current elven delegate, studied me intently from across my desk. “If I didn’t know better, I would suspect you were trying to hint at something that your curse is preventing you from addressing directly.”

I nodded. The curse bound my tongue, but not my motor control. However, that admission alone caused the curse to claw deeper at my magic. I flinched involuntarily before mastering my responses under tight control again. Motioning for the secretary to leave and close the door, I turned to face my friend.

The spymaster’s eyebrows rose, and his lean features sharpened as he eyed me. We waited as the servants left so that only Ghost, Calypso, Illeron, and I remained. I suspected at leastone shadow elf lingered nearby as well; Illeron rarely traveled unaccompanied.

As soon as the door closed, Illeron spoke, “If I might be blunt, you don’t look well.”

“This time it was a labyrinth.” I sank into my chair and dropped all pretensions. “Monsters, traps, and running for our lives.” I groaned and rubbed my forehead where a headache was developing.

“Our?” Illeron motioned with his chin toward Calypso, who was demurely sitting on her couch in the corner. Although I doubted she was actually reading the book in her hands. Her anxiety made the mating mark on my arm tighten.

“I encountered a woman and a pooka within the maze. We escaped together.”

“Did you bring the pooka home as well?” The spymaster was too intelligent for his own good.

In reply, I lifted my left arm and unfastened the clasp binding my sleeve to my wrist. My sleeve fell back, revealing the vine, which flashed and glowed in the sunlight.

Behind me, Calypso scrambled to her feet. “Az—Your Majesty?” She came around to stand next to my shoulder. “But you said—”

My arm warmed with the pleasure of her nearness. The leaves glowed.

“Illeron is a trusted friend,” I assured her.

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