Page 63 of Amidst the Insidious Courts
Taking a deep breath, I try my best to right myself, but it’s no easy task with my wrists chained to my feet—when did that happen? After days in mostly darkness, my eyes water in the light that my visitor has brought with them.
The candle flickers, glinting off her enormous gold and crystal flower headdress, showcasing the long tangles of cherry-red hair caught in it. Her deep honey skin is decorated with finely inked garlands of wildflowers, and her eyes are the tempestuous grey of a spring rainstorm. Every inch of her is regal, but her manic grin says she’s not all there.
This must be the Queen of Spring herself.
“You’re certain?” she demands of the guard standing over the metal grate in the ceiling of my cell, sweeping her hands down the sheer fabric of her dress.
“He bears her mark, Your Highness,” the high fae replies, though his face is obscured from my view by his helm. “He’s got all the symptoms of a male separated from his mate during her fever.”
Shit. I glance down at my hands and realise my wraps have been torn away, exposing Rose’s mark on my palm. I fist my fingers, but it’s too fucking late.
“But he’sFomorian.” A robed male comes forward from behind his queen, his pale rounded wings flickering with distaste. “They don’t have mates.”
A startled, tinkling laugh bursts forth from the blood-red lips of the queen. “Oh, this is just excellent. Danu incarnate, mated to our greatest enemy. I thought the business with her under fae Guards was enough to destroy her credibility, but this… This shallruinher.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. I open my mouth to lie, to deny that Rose is my mate, but the rejection doesn’t come. Even if it did, the fae would taste the deceit.
“Your Highness,” the guard says. “Some of those who’ve been in skirmishes with his kind say he looks a lot like the blade prince, except for the hair.”
Fuuccckk. My head falls back against the stone, and I curse the Ancestors and the púca a hundred times over for putting me in this situation.
“If itishim,” the robed male says, pale skin almost ghostly in the lamplight. “This would be proof of what Eero has been saying all along. The Fomorians have meddled with Danu’s magic somehow, trying to put one of their own kind on the throne. Theymustbe responsible for all of the abnormalities with the Nicnevin’s Guard and her poorly appointed high priestess. Their dark magic must have warped the Call somehow, allowing under fae to be called as well. We need to get answers from him, and then send news to Siabetha. If we organise a conventicle of the grand clerics, we can put a stop to this. Convincing the Nicnevin to reject all of them and select suitable high fae males before the—”
“No need to be hasty, Mervyn,” the queen says, pushing him aside as she steps closer to my cell, eyes roving over my body. “Eero is no friend of spring, and you do not speak for me. Besides, this one is alluring in his own feral way. Perhaps he can be made use of.”
Bile climbs in my throat as her salacious gaze drops down, lingering on my crotch. It will never happen. My cock may be rock hard right now thanks to Rose’s fever, but I’ll cut it off before I allow this bitch to touch me.
Shifting to obstruct her view, I let my eyes fall closed. My head thunks back against the wall a second time, and my balls give an answering pang.
“You. Fomorian. Do you speak?” Her tone is curt, grating on my over-sensitive ears.
I have a feeling only one voice would sound good right about now, and the Call in my chest claws at me, screaming at me to go to Rose. To care for her. To sink into her and beg her to never let me go.
The spring queen is still waiting for an answer, and she tuts under her breath impatiently.
“Fuck. You,” I grate out in my own language.
That quickly, her curious glee is replaced with a dark fury. “Hedaresspeak their dark tongue in my court.” Her thunderous expression fades as quickly as it came, and she delivers her next order so calmly, I wouldn’t have believed her anger if I hadn’t experienced it myself. “Cut out his tongue, then stitch his mouth shut for good measure.”
Ah, fuck.
Nineteen
Rhoswyn
Soothing, steaming hot water laps gently at my skin, waking me. I must fuss, because Jaro murmurs something soft, his chest vibrating beneath my fingertips in a soothing rumble that might have sent me back to sleep if not for the soreness that pervades my body.
“Oww,” I moan, as the heat of the water starts to work on the tense muscles of my back.
“Hey, Rosie.” Jaro strokes my hair out of my face, and I blink my eyes open, catching sight of his exhausted smile. “Your fever broke in the night. You can just sleep; we’ll take care of you.”
Relief swells, then overflows, until tears burst free.
“Hey, hey.” He wipes them away, eyes widening with panic. “What are these for? Are you hurt? Did we… did we hurt you?”
“No,” I whisper-sob. “I don’t… I don’t know why I’m crying.”
“It’s the crash,” Drystan mutters, though I can’t see him with my face buried in Jaro’s bulk. “Her body is working to return to normal. All her emotions are going to be haywire for a few hours.”
