Page 51 of The Fae King's Labyrinth

I watched them go with surprise. Somehow the servants had caught on that she ranked just under me in the court, while everyone else either ignored her or actively sneered at her. The vicious gossip reached my ears, and not even Ghost’s usual intimidating tactics had slowed the vindictive slights happening behind my back. And I hadn’t even presented her to the court yet.

“Yes?” Calypso regarded me, concern darkening her eyes to a stormy gray.

“I was wondering if you would be willing to work with a tailor and select a wardrobe to suit your new role?”

To my complete surprise, she brightened. “Oh, yes. It would be wonderful to have some options.” She hesitated and frowned. “Not that I don’t appreciate what you have already given me.”

She fingered the beading on the gray gown she wore. I loved the color on her because it complemented her eyes perfectly.

“It just isn’t something I would choose,” she admitted. The way she cut herself off made me suspect there was more to it, but I would not press with Soren in the audience. And then she lowered her gaze to her lap, which confirmed it. I had been learning to read her expressions and body language over the last few days. She was hiding something.

“Sire, you need to finish signing the purchase contracts before your next appointment.” Soren rustled something on my desk, but I ignored him.

“Is there something else I’m forgetting?” I asked Calypso.

Soren huffed. The vine on my arm burned, and I was tempted to turn around and attack my secretary, but I resisted the urge. Over the past few days, I had also been suppressing many such overwhelming desires that surged through me at odd moments because someone slighted or outright threatened Calypso.

“Not now,” she whispered, glancing up at me. Her gaze flicked to Soren. “I am sorry to distract you.”

Soren cleared his throat and coughed as though something had stuck in his throat.

Realizing Soren had probably glared at her again when my back turned, I muscled down a truly aggressive desire.

A knock at the door signaled the arrival of Calypso’s next admirer. Ghost entered right behind the young gnome, who kept his head down as he headed straight toward Calypso’s corner.

Ghost grunted. “Best acknowledge your king first, lad, lest he feel slighted.”

The gnome halted and swung about to face me, his blanched features a stark contrast to the brown hair curling beneath his hat. “My apologies, sire.” He performed a deep bow.

I smiled at his earnestness before I waved him off to greet Calypso. With a sigh, I returned to my work.

Ghost bowed to me. “The pooka is here,” he murmured with a surreptitious glance at Calypso.

“Really?” I dropped the page I had been reading.

“You don’t have time for more interruptions, sire,” Soren rushed to tell me, adding Ghost to the list of people he tried to spear with his glares.

I tried to calm the urge to snap.

Ghost continued in his lowered tone. “I informed the pooka of your tight schedule and overwhelming workload. He hasn’t come to visit you.”

My head snapped up, and I met my enforcer’s perturbed expression. “Lady Anon?” I asked.

Ghost barely nodded before I ordered, “Soren, clear my desk and leave. We will deal with the rest after my meeting with the Councilor Grizzlemunch.”

Ghost moved around my affronted secretary to speak with the gnome. A few words from the dragon and the gnome was hastily bidding Calypso farewell.

“But, sire.” Soren’s mouth pursed in disapproval.

I rose to my full height and gave Soren a haughty stare. “Something has come up. I will speak to you after Grizzlemunch.”

Soren bowed his head, but not before I caught his expression of deep displeasure. He snatched the page I had been reading off the desk and stalked out of the room with his stack of documents. Ghost followed him and the retreating gnome to the door and closed it behind them. Leaning his back against the door, he motioned toward one of the windows.

A great flapping of wings and a heavy thump outside the second-floor window signaled the arrival of one of the gargoyle twins and our unexpected guest.

“Is that the pooka?” Calypso approached me, catching my sleeve.

“So Ghost says.” Reaching back, I caught her vined hand with mine, interlacing our fingers. The magic vine warmed, rippling happily, and a wonderful sense of calm settled over me.

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