Page 92 of Fae Champion

Rush wore a loaded baldric across his back and his usual set of daggers. Woefully, I was back to being weaponless, since Pru had insisted I should do nothing more to provoke the queen. Even when I’d pointed out that my mere presence was enough to enrage her, and that I might as well have some way to defend myself, the goblin had gone twitchy, her gnarled fingers twisting together so markedly that I’d relented. When the queen could snap her fingers and force me to remain unmoving while Rush came at me with a blade, what did it matter anyway?

Even so, I’d managed to sneak the icepick down my cleavage when the goblin was turned around.

When grand double doors, their wood panels sculpted with a bas relief of—what else—a monarch defeating dragons, came into view at the end of a wide room as opulent as the Hall of Mirrors, I breathed, “Rush?”

I didn’t even know what I might want to say. His name was constantly on my mind, and had all too easily slipped from my lips.

His pace had been so fast I’d thanked sunshine several times that Pru had dressed me in flat slippers, but at his whispered name he slowed and spun on the sentries trailing us, giving them a single look that had them halting mid-stride as effectively as if he’d bellowed the command.

He faced me and dipped his neck so he could stare into my eyes. “What is it, El?” His question was a gentle caress that went contrary to the tension that so obviously roiled through his tight frame.

“I…”

He took half a step toward me, his hands reaching for me before dropping back to his sides.

“I…” I uttered again, my attention darting to the ceiling where the queen’s little bloody spies trailed perhaps twenty feet behind us. I didn’t know their range, but I guessed whatever we said to each other might not be private.

I exhaled loudly, and an ear beelined toward me as if understanding that my heavy frustration could all too easily make me reckless. Glaring daggers at the bobbingear and its dangling strings of flesh, I scowled and told Rush, “Nothing, I guess.”

His fingers alighted on my arm, skirting the deep slice concealed by the three-quarter sleeves of my gown, as if he couldn’t help but remember the harm he’d done to me. A smear of blood already dampened the taffeta.

“Are you sure?”

“For now, yeah,” I said, irritation bubbling up in me that the queen should have such a stranglehold on all aspects of her court. A private conversation, for fuck’s sake,is that too much to ask?

The moonlight in Rush’s eyes dimmed. Only then did I realize he’d hoped I’d been about to reciprocate his declaration of love.

His shoulders sagged. “You’re really sure?”

I attempted a reassuring smile that fell flat. “Yes. Everything’s fine.”

Everything wasnotfine, and Rush certainly knew it.

He frowned. “We’ll talk later.”

“Mmmhmmm.” That same empty smile tugged at my mouth.

The double doors opened so violently that both sides banged against the wall, dinging the plaster and its ornate creeping vines with thunderous smacks. Ivar and Braque emerged at once, the thin man and the portly man, otherwise so markedly different, but identical in their disapproval. It pulled theirlips into such sour lines that they etched down their chins, revealing them for the puppets they were.

“Youdareto make Her Royal Majesty wait?” Ivar’s voice vibrated like an arrow shot from a bow, zeroing in on its target.

“After all you’ve already done?” Braque further accused in an incredulous pitch.

“After allwe’vealready done?” I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief, then tsked. “Let’s get this nonsense over with,” I snapped loudly enough to precede me into the throne room, and next marched inside, Rush prowling a step behind me, the guards hurrying to keep up.

“Guards, wait outside,” the queen ordered from the single throne atop a dais at the back of the room, her voice ringing hollow as it reached for the high, vaulted ceiling.

Four of the sentries immediately bowed, turned, and stalked from the room. The fifth, the one who’d assured me that he and his cohorts would defend me against any threat save whatever faced me in the Gladius Probatio, hesitated.

The queen’s stare had been on me and Rush, but now it swung to the sentinel. She arched her dark brows, silently daring him to defy her.

The man, strong and evidently in his prime,gulped, bowed, and scurried away, sword clanking—leaving me with the greatest threat in all the kingdom.

Swallowing my bitterness at his cowardice—should I really blame him?—I realized Rush remained bowed, and I hadn’t yet shown the woman the formal respect she so clearly didn’t deserve.

She snapped those brows at me and I curtsied, dipping my head to conceal the disgust that widened my nostrils.

The heavy doors at our backs shut with a thud, caging us in with the beast.

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