Page 34 of How to Keep a Fae

“I am no damn pawn,” I snarl.

A smile ghosts Cecil’s lips, and it quenches my temper like a douse of cold water splashed over a fire. “Spoken like an imperial.”

I snap my mouth shut, realizing too late that I have been bold beyond my rank.

“Aurelius was at Sendar. How many can say as much? His experiences stretch over many lifetimes.”

He tells me nothing I do not already know. But this time, I wait rather than venturing to offer a comment.

“Accept that you will find enlightenment as to your father’s decisions when you need to, and this will be easier to bear.”

His affirmation of the paternal relationship after I denied it, is not lost on me.

I bow my head.

“May the Goddess guide you on your travels, Augustine, first and only born son of Aurelius. You may leave to prepare.”

I blink away the sudden watery weight from the back of my eyes and, with a stiff bow, quit the room.

No one besides my father calls me Augustine although it is the name gifted me when I was born and is written in the register of births.

I feel every eye follow me as I collect my kit bag and walk the stone path that cuts through the center of the practice room toward the doors, my boots ringing loudly.

It is Jayga’s stare that pierces me most deeply.

As I push through the double doors and enter the passage beyond, I gulp air into my lungs.

Confusion about what my father seeks with this move offers a brief respite from the fear and the jealousy I thought I’d put to bed.

My father’s missions are rarely short. A year ago, I’d have jumped at the opportunity to prove myself on something as important as this undoubtedly is. Now, my mind will not stretch past the implications of leaving Jayga alone for weeks, possibly months, with the woman I love.

Chapter Thirteen

Jayga

“Adaline!”

A conflict of anxiety and relief hit me hearing her name called for me. I half expected them to allocate me to someone else and was prepared for it, even knowing I’d do something stupid if they did.

I’ve been on patrol since August left with his father, a fucking imperial, on some fancy quest, leaving me here to deal with the fallout.

“Jayga!” She jumps into my arms, forgetting all about her witchy house mistress.

I stagger into her chamber, crushing her against me, both of us shaking. Her nose is pressed against the crook of my neck, and I can feel her tears.

“Hush, love. It’ll be alright,” I say. I have no fucking clue if it’s going to be alright. I’m just spouting nonsense—anything that will stop her from weeping.

She peers over my shoulder. “Where’s August? Is he hurt? Did they… did they send him to someone else?”

Her frantic words land like blows.

“I... No.” I try to set her down, but she clings tighter. Fuck! I’m not prepared for this. I’m not fucking clever like August is.

A bitter laugh wants to bubble up. He said his mother was a breeder. Did he not think to mention the other important part of his bloodline, that his father was an imperial?

“He’s gone on a quest,” I say. “At the request of an imperial.”

I don’t yet mention that the imperial is his father, a fucking highborn… About as high as it gets.

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