Page 133 of A Fae in Finance
Sahir and I had dressed in matching blue outfits, and I snickered.
He glanced down at me and smiled. “Well met.”
“Should I wake Lene?” I asked, reaching for my ring out of habit. Finding my finger unadorned, I wrung my hands together instead.
He shook his head. “I let Gaheris stay behind as well. They will come if the Princeling requests it, but there is no reason to bring them now.”
He held out his arm for me, and I slid my hand into the crook of his elbow. My stomach flopped with a mixture of confusion and pleasure. Together we trod the path to the Princeling’s throne room.
“Hang on,” I said. “It’s a Sunday night. Is he going to be there?”
Sahir laughed like I’d told a good joke. Did faeries not take weekends? I realized it probably wouldn’t make sense for faeries to conform to the American notion of a five-day workweek—especially because I’d never seen evidence that they conformed to “weeks” at all.
“Yes, the Princeling will be in his throne room,” he said.
Sahir was in a very good mood, almost smiling as we walked.
“Must be a very boring job,” I muttered, determined to be ornery. “If he’s there on a Sunday night.”
“I cannot speak to whether it is boring, but he is in the throne room because I requested an audience with him,” Sahir said.
We stopped in front of the ornate door to the throne room, where the magical mural of the waterfall down the sheer cliff continued its unabated flow. Sahir knocked on the wall next to the door, and the door swung open. He released my arm and pushed against the small of my back so I entered first.
The Princeling sat on his throne, his entourage arrayed around him. He’d let the Crone sit in a small chair at his right hand, and the Gray Knight stood at his left.
We hadn’t really spoken since our fight in my room—I was still upset with her for the cavalier way she’d suggested I just give up and work for the Princeling. And, if I was honest, for casually spurning me when I asked to slow down whatever had happened between us.
“Sahir,” the Princeling drawled. I’d forgotten how green his eyes were, and how thick his thighs. “I see you have returned from your… camping trip.”
“My liege,” Sahir said, bowing his head. I followed suit. My hair, which I’d left undone, fell over my face. The floor had an inlaid pattern I hadn’t noticed before, a subtle checkerboard of brownish stones.
“Lady of the True Dreams,” the Princeling said. “Stand and face me.”
I rose. Sahir stayed beside me, head bowed. I took a step toward the Princeling on his throne, my eyes on his stern face.
“You left Faerie.” His expression remained unreadable, his eyes like emerald chips in his face. I reached for my phantom ring. It wasn’t there. I fought the urge to twist my hands in front of me and kept them uncurled at my sides.
“I did.” I straightened my back and squared my shoulders.
“And yet you are neither bone shards nor blood mist, let alone both combined.”
“I am not,” I confirmed, though I did discreetly pat my own thigh as I spoke—just to check.
“How was this possible?” He didn’t look angry, exactly. Just baffled. I looked at the Crone, but she had a faraway look on her wrinkled face, her eyes focused somewhere outside the room.
Sahir lifted his head and stepped up next to me. “We bargained with the Builder Roman for information about his father’s magics. Roman shared information that helped us understand the portals better. Miri should be able to pass freely through your portal without fear.”
Sahir proceeded to explain our journey into the Queen’s lands and then through the treacherous halls of the Trenton train station. Sahir’s version of the story was truncated and lacking the vibrant details I would have included. He also called my grandmother “a woman of surpassing grace and dignity,” which was a vibrant detail I would not have included.
My attention wandered, so I was surprised when he trailed off. The Princeling opened his mouth to speak, but Sahir cleared his throat. “If you allow it, lord, Miri can come to New York with me during the day, and return here at night.”
The Princeling sat for a moment.
“This changes nothing,” he said.
“Excuse me?” I said. My mind blanked.
The Princeling shook his head, like he was dislodging an errant leaf from his hair.
