Page 18 of Heir to His Court

He leaned his shoulder against mine. “I wish that was true, Nya. You're going out.”

“Niguo.”

“Alone?”

No disapproval in his voice, which was why I'd let him waylay me. Anyone else would have argued. Murungaru trusted me to take care of myself.

“Yes, alone.”

“Good.”

We smoked in silence for another few minutes before I rose. “I'd better get going.”

He looked up at me, dark eyes glimmering with a fleck of gold fire. “I need to talk to you as soon as you have time.”

I tilted my head. “About what?”

“Has my uncle ever told you about his aunt?”

This wasn't what I'd expected. “Grandmother's younger sister? She died.”

“She was murdered.”

“Baba never said.” I frowned. “It's sad, and I wish he'd told me, but what does it have to do with now? That was, what, forty years ago?”

“She was waganga too. Her death is why he forbade I train you.” Strong disapproval on his face, but he wouldn't voice it. It would be disrespectful to speak against an elder. “I know about what happened in Montague District. I know you are Dark Fae.”

Shit. If I sat back down, I wouldn't get back up and there would go my night.

“I—” I forced myself to speak above a whisper. My cousin was not trying to shame me. “Someone more powerful than I intervened. I shouldn’t have been able to access that form for many years.”

“Is that what you were told? You may be Fae, Nyawira, but you are also Wairumu.”His expression darkened. “We were healers, but we were burned as witches. That is when our women began to carry the dark spirits.” Murungaru smiled briefly, and the darkness dispelled. “I'm only telling you so you know the conversation is important. But it can wait. Go, have fun. You have so little of it.”

“Not true. Killing my enemies is a blast.” I sighed. The instinct to get to the bottom of this warred with my need to relax for a few hours. I exhaled, glaring at him. “Right. You have my attention. We will talk—tomorrow. Don’t make me come looking for you.”

“Don't be out too late, Nya,” he called after me. “You need actual sleep.”

I waved over my shoulder.

I knew the paths and rotations of the guards by heart, and Numair and Juliette were off duty, rightfully expecting me to be knocked out in my bedroom. I felt a pang of guilt for leaving them behind. If I was hurt while out on my own, they would both feel like shit even though it would be my fault. I promised myself I'd remain extra cautious as I walked a few blocks from the house and hailed a hackney, instructing the driver to take me to the University square.

The campus run open air revel I headed to was as safe a place for me as any when alone in Everenne. The Fae version of a dive bar, the clientele was a mixture of students and faculty, both Fae and human, and because the University was a hub for Fae from all of the Houses, this particular revel I could enjoy with a drink, even a few dances, without glamouring my identity. I'd also be left alone unless I wanted company.

I tipped the driver and jumped out, getting in the back of the line to enter the revel. The skies were clear tonight so there was no tent, only thick ropes forming the barrier and dense stripes of wildflowers representing each of Everenne’s major Houses. White roses for Montague, vermilion hibiscus for Faronne. . .snapdragons for Wyvenne, and so on. Laughter and music drifted through the air, and from the volume it was a well-attended night. They must have a live band about to play.

The bouncer met my gaze when it drifted in their direction, jerking their chin. I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked to the front of the line where they gestured me in.

“Rinne,” they grunted, taking the cue of my discreet attire, or else the lack of title would have been an insult, coming from a Low Fae.

Tall, probably part troll, they wore their hair in short purple waves around a long jawed face, though that and the kohl lining their eyes did nothing to soften broad shoulders and massive fists. Fists I'd seen discourage fights. “Alone tonight?”

“Yes. You're well, Nifario? Did Esau's mare birth yet?”

Their expression lightened from the professional grim stare. “Another month to go. About the stud fee—”

I waved my hand. “You're good for it when you've got it.”

“Our gratitude. I'll send a note when the labor begins.”

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