Page 62 of A Fate so Cruel

She already had her socks off and in hand before turning to him. Selina eyed the bathroom door as if to state the obvious. “Just because we’re posing as travelers doesn’t mean I have to smell like one. I’m taking a shower, dressing in something presentable, then heading to the market.”

Rion crossed his arms. “And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

A feline smile spread across her face. “You could always join me.” His heart stopped then she laughed and his face heated. “Do whatever you like, but meet me in the market in two hours.” She shut the door before he could reply. The water switched on and Rion tried not to imagine her removing her clothes. He definitely wasn’t thinking about how her body had felt pressed against his own.

Rion stormed from the room. He need air. She hadn’t even brought up the kiss, which meant it was just part of the ruse. Of course it was. She’d told him the whole thing was just an act. He inwardly kicked himself. They were on a mission and despite the awkward things this particular mission entailed, he needed to maintain an air of professionalism.

Rion bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood. Gods, why was she so . . . he’d never had a female . . . play with him the way she did. Hell, he’d never had anyone play with him or toy with his emotions as if he were anyone else in the world.

It was . . . refreshing. And despite the feelings coursing through his body, Rion wasn’t sure he ever wanted it to stop.

He breathed in the fresh air of the bustling street and let his thoughts clear. He’d talk to her later. Or maybe they’d pretend it never happened. He could do that, he supposed.

Rion observed the Fae and half-breeds walking the streets. They regarded him oddly now, as if they didn’t quite know what to do with him after Selina’s very public display. Afew had bags in their hands. He wondered if they were traveling for the solstice or fleeing the city due to his presence.

Rion marched straight for the governor’s estate. He’d visited a time or two with Saoirse while on the hunt for their mother. The male who ran the city wasn’t exactly what Rion would call a warrior. Not anymore, at least. All those in Brónach were required to undergo rigorous training, but once a Fae graduated from the academy, it was up to them to keep up on that training.

The governor worried more about his social standing and political image than his swordplay. He briefly wondered how Selina planned to handle the male. Certainly not with physical threats if she wanted to keep their mission a secret. Hopefully she didn’t plan to deal with him in another physical manner.

A growl escaped his throat at the thought of another’s male’s hands anywhere near her. Two civilians jumped and fled down a side alley.

Rion took a breath and made a sad attempt at burying his instincts. A mission, he reminded himself. Selina wasn’t his and she might never want to be. If she needed to do certain things to ensure their success, then he couldn’t let himself interfere. It wasn’t his business.

But he wanted it to be. Rion wondered, not for the first time, if he’d ever shake the teachings of the ancient text. If a female might one day look at him the way Selina pretended to.

The buildings grew larger, some towering to a third story with long flowering vines draping from the balconies to create a blanket of mixed colors and pleasant aromas.

It was always jarring to visit another city. While Nàdair had plenty of regular buildings and storefronts, the citizens mostly lived within the trees, opting to warp them as they saw fit to accommodate their families. The elders claimed it kept them close to their heritage. According to them, living apart fromnature and the Fairy Folk risked the Fae forgetting where they came from. Some older Fae even sneered at those who lived in handmade structures rather than utilizing the trees.

The road widened then split, circling around the governor’s estate and the large expanse of land surrounding it. The manor itself was only two stories, thank the gods for that, but it stretched wide. Rion counted the windows, grimacing at the number of rooms they might have to search.

A pair of guards stood at the front gate, looking ready to doze in the warm sun. At least they’d be easy enough to subdue. The entire yard was surrounded by a metal fence with easily climbable vines weaving between the posts. Fountains and red brick led up to the front door and wrapped around the perimeter. A pristine cobblestone walkway stretched into a garden that smelled of roses and peonies.

He snorted at the immaculate lawn. He doubted anyone was even allowed to walk on it. Such a waste. They could have at least planted a few trees to add some shade and color.

Rion prowled the perimeter. Some noticed his presence, mostly those working in the garden, but they wisely avoided his stare and busied themselves elsewhere. One retreated inside the manor, no doubt to report his presence to appointed officials. Rion estimated he had about ten minutes before someone came out to greet him.

He found two more guards at the rear entrance, but none prowled the yard. If they held secrets about a rebel faction, they weren’t doing much to protect them.

Rion heard the familiar clank of chains and glanced toward the garden only to find a slave staring at him. She quickly looked away. He surveyed her clean clothes and full figure. At least they seemed to be treating them fairly here, which was more than he could say of some nobles.

Most deemed the half-breeds so below their station, they weren’t worthy of new clothes or even daily meals, but there were those among the higher circles who frowned upon having a dirty creature touching their things. Let alone having to stare at them day in and day out. Their care was purely a selfish motivation. One he could hardly stomach.

Rion clenched his jaw. Saoirse had offered him a slave once. Just someone to sort and tend to his personal things. He’d never been angry with his sister before, but he’d come close to snapping that day. She’d taken the slave for herself and never offered another.

He didn’t need someone following him around. Those who worked in the palace were bad enough.

Footsteps had Rion turning to find a well-dressed Fae male approaching from behind. The male paused several feet away, almost too far to warrant a normal conversation, and promptly bowed at the waist. “My Lord.” He rose and struggled to hold Rion’s gaze. “We didn’t expect your arrival.” The male’s voice trembled and the fear radiating from him had Rion’s stomach turning. “Please allow us to accommodate—”

“That’s not necessary,” Rion interrupted before the male could list a dozen inns that might suit him. The male wrung his hands together. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

Rion let his gaze drift toward the pair of slaves waiting before the gate. A cart, just large enough to accommodate a single person, stood behind them. No horses, of course; that was what the slaves were for.

He clenched his jaw. He didn’t care about their histories. Seeing the half-breeds treated as little more than animals boiled the blood in his veins.

“I didn’t realize I was required to announce my arrival.” His voice came out rougher than he’d intended. The male flinched.

“No, of course you don’t, My Lord. I only meant that we could have prepared—”

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