Page 19 of The Red Woman and the White Bear

“How did you come to find me?” Rodney asked.

“You aren’t difficult to find, changeling, it seems that most recognize you by your hair. An unpleasant man several doors down was kind enough to direct me to your…abode.”Cole. Ithad to be Cole. The disdain in Kael’s voice was clear, though its velvet tone brought a blush to Aisling’s cheeks. “You carry yourself as a human, púca, but you blend in poorly.”

“I belong to no court, and I am not one of your subjects. I cannot be compelled to answer your questions, particularly if you’ve come to insult me on my own threshold.” Rodney matched Kael’s derision with his own. When Aisling dared peek her head around the corner, just a sliver, she could see Briar positioned between Rodney’s legs. His quiet growl had become a constant hum.

“I have little interest in you or your beast. I’ve come because you were with a pixie last night.” At that, Aisling pulled back quickly and retreated a few steps.

Rodney played it off easily. Casually. Like he was commenting on the morning’s weather. “Was I? I can’t recall.”

“Try.” Not an order—a threat, and a thinly veiled one at that. He was growing irritated.

“Has she done something to offend?” Rodney asked. Though his words were measured, Aisling knew him well enough to detect the underlying tension there. Skilled as he was in slippery diplomacy, even he was on edge around the king.

“I seek her name.” Kael was slightly louder now as he had moved closer to the open door. It was an ominous demand, particularly after her teasing the night before while she’d straddled his hips.

“She was smart not to give it,” Rodney shot back.

“So you know her?”

“Scarcely more than you do, it would seem. We passed through the Veil at the same time and became acquainted over a drink. Iknow little else.” It was odd hearing Rodney speak this way, so stiff and formal. A touch too similar to the courtiers he’d mocked at the revelry.

“Does she come from your island?” Louder still. Kael was likely standing at the top of the steps now, just across the threshold. Toe-to-toe with Rodney.

“I’ve not seen her before, nor since,” he replied simply. “I left before she did.”

A long beat of silence, and then the sound of retreating footsteps on gravel and the door slamming shut in the king’s wake. Aisling’s knees buckled with relief and she slid to the ground where she’d been standing.

“I’d say you caught his attention,” Rodney commented when he rounded the corner. He offered Aisling his hand and pulled her to her feet. “Maybe a little too well.”

Briar wound his way between them, panting, and pressed his head into her stomach. She steadied herself against his warm body. “Do you think he knows?”

Rodney thought for a minute, replaying the interaction, then shook his head. “He’d have killed me right there in my doorway if he did.” He nudged Aisling playfully in the ribs then said, singsong, “I think he likes you.”

She looked down at Briar to let her hair fall forward and hide her flushed cheeks. “Do you think I should go back?”

“Not just yet, but we should strike while the iron’shot. Tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.The idea sent a faint electric thrill through Aisling. She promised herself that what she felt was fear, and fear alone.

Aisling was green once again, though this time she insisted on a slightly more modest gown. This one, the blazing orange of autumn leaves. But she couldn’t enjoy it. Tonight, the glamour felt uncomfortably tight and binding. Her mind continued to stray back to the king; she couldn’t escape the memory of his intense gaze, the confident arch of his brow. His teasing smirk as he led her down that dark hall.

“Try the garden tonight,” Rodney advised from his perch on a stump. The sun was setting quickly, and soon it would be time to return to the Unseelie Court.

“How do you know he’ll be there?” Still clumsy with her elongated fingers, Aisling raked her hair back from her face and clipped it at the nape of her neck. She was nervous and fidgety and was having trouble standing still. She’d tried to convince Rodney to don a different glamor and accompany her, but he seemed sure that it would be less conspicuous for her to go on her own.

“I don’t, but there’s a good chance.” While Aisling had been astride the Unseelie King, Rodney had been hard at work on the drunken revelers. As it happened, he and Aisling weren’t the only pair given to speculate about the king’s activities. Often, Rodney had learned, he spent nightfall in the garden. If he wasn’t there, hewas likely kneeling before the altar in The Cut. Rodney wasn’t keen on sending Aisling there just yet.

“And if he’s not?”

“If he’s not, come back and we’ll look someplace else in a couple days. Aisling,” he said her name firmly and waited for her to turn and look at him. “Don’t go into the Undercastle by yourself.”

“You couldn’t pay me,” she said honestly. She’d navigated those passages once on her own—only just—and wasn’t eager to do so again. “What if he asks my name again?”

Rodney shrugged. “Make one up, or give him your own. It doesn’t matter much either way. Your name holds no power over you.”

“It’s too bad we don’t know his full name, that would make this a lot easier.”Kael.Rodney had whispered the king’s name just before Nocturne, and ever since she’d rolled it over her tongue. It tasted illicit. She wondered how it would sound in his dulcet voice and barely-there accent.

“Sure, but where would be the fun in that?” He winked. He took far too much pleasure in this. Aisling rolled her eyes.

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