Page 10 of Tempting the Fae Lord
I wear my finest clothes, which aren’t so fine at all compared to what they’re wearing in the cities, or so I was told by the last messenger when I wore this same outfit: burgundy linen doublet with gold laces, a cream linen shirt beneath, brown leather breaches, and brown boots a bit too tight for my feet. My unrulycurls are tamed within an inch of their life and fastened back with a scrap of red ribbon.
This is as presentable as I get.
Eulayla sends Amaris to fetch Callum, where he’s been resting in the guest quarters. Then we wait. It’s not like we’re required to be in attendance when the Gatekeeper grants an audience, but there’s little else to do. And the possibility of a new little one is exciting.
Chester flattens Jack’s collar. “You could use some new clothes.”
Jack plucks a string from an old, worn patch at Chester’s elbow. “We all could.”
“I apologize.” The Gatekeeper’s resonant voice fills the space, though he’s spoken quietly.
I whirl around to lay eyes on him.
“I shall see to it at once,” he says. “Marissa, could you collect everyone’s measurements to that end?”
Marissa curtsies. “Yes, sir.”
He’s resplendent in a vest of fine black silk over a flowing shirt of black linen. He turns his back to Eulayla, “Would you mind?”
“My pleasure.” She tightens the laces that trail down the curve of his spine. As she tugs, his shapely, narrow waist materializes over slender hips. Black leather breeches draw my attention to svelte, muscular thighs. The tips of his black boots shine with a fresh polish that he must have done himself before making his appearance.
I yearn to be the one adjusting those laces, running fingers over the silk, brushing his soft hair out of the way. To be close enough to inhale a whiff of his wintery scent.
It’s always been like this for me. His mere presence is spellbinding. He enthralls me with every tilt of his head, everyword from his lips, every gesture from his ringed fingers with their perfectly manicured nails.
I learned early on to hide this from the others as much as I could. Better to keep my infatuation a secret. It makes him uncomfortable, makes Chester tease me, and makes Eulayla frown.
The Gatekeeper catches my gaze. Though I’ve been caught staring, I still can’t drag my eyes away from him.
I didn’t say I was any good at keeping it a secret—only that I sometimes try, just apparently not very hard tonight.
He nods a greeting, a slight dip of his chin while maintaining eye contact, and I nearly tip over from light-headedness. Heat flushes my face. I return the nod and try to keep my smile of a pleasant-evening variety instead of a crazed-lunatic variety.
The corner of his mouth curls upward, and he glances away.
“There you are.” Eulayla pats him on the shoulders and runs her hand over his wavy hair, smoothing it over his back.
“Thank you, dear.” He kisses her cheek. “How are you?”
“Well enough. Glad to have a visitor. He’s a new one, the messenger. Young. Name’s Callum.”
“He’s been sent for?”
“Yes. On his way.”
The Gatekeeper lets out a resigned sigh. “Then I ought to assume the position. Is there a dinner prepared for afterward?”
“Does a one-legged duck swim in a circle?”
He shakes his head and grins, fangs gleaming. No reserved smiles for Eulayla. She gets his genuine affection and amusement. “I knew better than to ask.”
“That you do, and yet.”
“And yet.” He takes his place on the throne, looking every bit as regal as his bloodline would indicate, but we all know he’s uncomfortable. He prefers to be left alone.
Amaris returns with a tentative Callum in tow. Who knows what rumors he’s heard about the Gatekeeper? They say awful things about him in the southern towns and cities. We’ve heard shocking bits of lore—like he feeds off the babies he steals—repulsive lies. They should count themselves lucky he isn’t the vengeful sort.
“Approach, lad.” The Gatekeeper beckons with an open hand.
