Page 61 of The Fae King's Labyrinth

“Not like we’ve had a lot of healthy examples in our lives.”

I grimaced at him. “I plan on stopping by Illeron’s place on our way back from the winter palace next week. He might offer advice.”

Ghost nodded. “Escort required?”

I stroked Calypso’s soft head. “Probably wise.”

“But not welcomed.” Ghost snorted in amusement. “I will attempt to be discreet.”

The weight of my limbs signaled sleep wasn’t far off. If I was to avoid the crick Ghost accurately predicted, I would need to move soon. But I didn’t want to. Calypso’s warmth across my legs and the pleasant caress of her magic twining through my senses made for a very comfortable combination.

“Do you want me to move her, or will you?” Ghost asked.

The idea of him touching her made me force my eyes open. “I will.” She was mine, and I had no intention of letting another touch her if I could avoid it, even if it was Ghost.

Working my hands cautiously around her soft cat body, I lifted her from my lap to cradle her against my chest in one smooth movement. Then, rising from the chair, I made my way to my bed.

Settling her on the counterpane, I reluctantly let go of her. Only then did she lift her head and blink unfocused silver eyes at me. “Merow?”

“Go back to sleep,” I instructed. Pulling back the covers, I climbed into the familiar softness beneath them. Moments later, when consciousness was fading into slumber, the bed dipped and someone settled against my back. Warmth and rightness carried me off to sleep.

Conversation woke me the next morning.

“But I don’t need lace.” Calypso’s muffled voice pulled me fully from sleep. I sat up and blinked in the sunlight pouring through the eastern windows.

“Morning greetings, sire.” Ghost pulled back another drape, tripling the intensity of the sunlight.

“I overslept,” I protested. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Lady Anon’s orders. She decided you needed to sleep.” He smirked before turning away. “Furintag spelled your meal so it would stay warm.”

“Lady Anon?” I asked as I stretched and began climbing out of bed.

“She ate and is currently arguing with the tailor over the clothing he is supposed to be making for her.” Amusement colored his voice. “Don’t worry, she’s handling it.”

“I am not fae.” Calypso’s voice carried through the open door from the dressing room. I could only just see the door past the screen someone had set up to give me privacy. Her calm tones continued. “I don’t wish to wear lace, ribbons, and beading. A simple dress made of these quality fabrics would suit me perfectly.”

“But, my lady, it just isn’t done among the fae” the tailor protested. “A simple gown indicates inferior status. As the king’s companion, you rank just below the royal family. Your clothing should reflect this in both grandeur and expense.”

I rose and dressed.

Drawn by the desire to see Calypso, I ignored my hunger and crossed to the open dressing room door.

“How about a compromise?” Calypso suggested as I approached. “I do like the appearance of this gown.”

She was holding up a heavily beaded gown in an atrocious yellow-green that had been all the rage at the last court social function I had attended. Hosted by one of my councilors, scoresof eager fae ladies had attended, hoping to win my favor. At least half of them had been wearing that atrocious color.

“But not the color, I hope,” I said.

Calypso spun to face me, clutching the horrible gown to her chest as she greeted me with a blinding smile. Her gray eyes, warm with welcome and concern, studied me. “Did you sleep well? I didn’t wake you, I hope.”

I found myself smiling in return before I could temper my response. “Ghost woke me by opening the curtains.”

“I told him not to,” she protested. She pressed her mouth into a tight line and glared past me at the absent dragon.

“Ghost does as he wills at times.”

Ghost’s distant cough from the bedchamber was his reminder that he could hear every word I said.

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