Page 62 of Marked By the Dark Lord
I snorted. “Despite whatever ridiculousness Gunnar might have spouted, I didn’trunaway. Certainly not from someone. I left of my own accord. I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving or where I was going, so perhaps my leave could be construed as having run away, but I left to pursue a life I wanted. Not the one assigned to me.”
“You didn’t have free will there? Were you a prisoner?”
“In a way,” I said with a small shrug, not wanting to disturb her body. “Faerie is ruled over by the Sidhe. The strongest and oldest of the Fae creatures. The Sidhe are organized into houses. Ten Great Houses and numerous affiliated minor houses. Each Great House rules a section of Fae.”
“And you’re a Sidhe,” she surmised.
“Yes,” I said, a strange weightlessness coming over me as I told someone the truth. No more hiding behind lies for the first time in forever. “I am of House Duloke.”
“Is that where the second half of your name comes from?” she asked, noting the similar ending to both words.
I nodded. “Precisely. I was born the third son of four to Char’ok, head of House Duloke.”
“You had three brothers?” she exclaimed with a shudder. “That sounds chaotic enough in a human household. But when you’re all, well … like you, that just sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”
I didn’t bother holding back a chuckle. “I’m sure there were times when I was a child that were, shall we say,tryingfor our keepers, but when you’re born to the head of the ruling House of Faerie, you learn at a young age how to behave.”
“If Duloke is the ruling house, and you were the son of one of its leaders, wouldn’t that have made you a sort of bigwig? An important person?”
“Not particularly. My eldest brother, Rill’ok, was set to succeed my father. Priv’ok was the second son and head of the armies. Third son and fourth son? Unnecessary. A girl would have been better. Then my father could have married her to another Great House to forge bonds. But I didn’t want to be a part of that life. Politics? No, thank you. So, I left to make my own way. I changed my name and never revealed my heritage. I ended up here, in The Place Behind, and that’s that.”
Mila’s blue eyes were focused and thoughtful, slightly narrowed as she considered all I’d told her.
“What about your other brother? What did he end up doing?” she asked.
“Kraw’ok?” I shrugged. “No idea. He was still young and unfocused when I left. He was coddled by my mother a little too much. I doubt he made much of himself. Too weak.”
“I see.” Thankfully, she didn’t push the subject.
I grunted and shrugged. “And now you know.”
“What have you been doing in the meantime?” she asked. “How did you end up involved with the Twisted Court?”
“It’s fun,” I said with another, stronger shrug. I’d noticed the way the first one caused her breasts to jiggle. Which was even more pleasant to the eye.
“Stop that,” she said with a giggle, pulling the sheet up.
“Never,” I growled, tearing the sheet away from her entirely, leaving her body exposed to my greedy gaze.
She pouted but made no effort to reclaim her cover. “Now you have to tell me about what you do. Do you really enjoy seeing people tortured and hurt?”
“They deserve it,” I growled.
“Did I deserve it?” she fired back.
“You broke the law,” I pointed out. “And I left my spot on the Jury for you. This is different.”
“And how many other women have gone before the court to be claimed by someone else and had worse done to them?”
“I am who I am, Mila,” I told her coldly. “I am a Fae. It is in my blood to see the scales balanced. Things must be made even. Sometimes those who break the rules must be punished. Like the man I brought here. He was beating his wife and raping his daughter. Should I have just left him be?”
“Well, maybe not,” she said. “But that’s what prison is for …”
“Prison is for those who can be redeemed. Minor crimes. The man was doing despicable things to achild. Call me any name you want, think me however evil. I do not care. She was a child. She had nobody to help her. So, I helped her.”
“You help in the worst sort of ways,” she said, shaking her head. “How am I supposed to accept this?”
“Just accept it,” I said with a shrug. “It’s who I am, Mila. Take it or leave it.”
