Page 6 of With Fangs and Claws (The Wolf Queen 1)

Chapter 3

“Many thanks for allowing us the opportunity to visit your lands,” Dane said, his voice already familiar to me. Through my eyelashes, I watched him bow to my father, the others all doing the same, with Gael only slightly slower to do so than the rest. “We expect this to be a welcome chance to create an alliance between our two peoples that should be of great benefit to all.”

“I am pleased to hear such willingness to enter into negotiations,” Father replied. “I admit when my king asked me to broker this deal, I was at a loss as to what we could offer the wargen.”

Read: we will not relinquish any land to you.

“You underestimate the riches of your lands and people, Your Grace,” Dane replied smoothly, and just then, I knew his eyes slid to me. I kept mine steadfastly downcast, finally doing what was always expected of me, but I could feel the heat of those unnaturally pale eyes on me until he was forced to continue or else cause offence. “I know an exchange of land is not possible…”

Oh? My father straightened up in his chair now, obviously having anticipated that he’d be bombarded with requests for land the wargen believed was theirs. Because before the Great Claiming, Grania and Strelae were one country, having been held by the wargen for perpetuity. Overtures from the Wolf King were usually rebuffed because it always ended in the same thing, a demand for us to vacate what they saw was their lands.

“No?” Father said in a cautiously optimistic tone. “Come, let us adjourn to the dining hall to break our fast for the day. You and your men must be tired and hungry after a long ride. I see you’ve brought your own meat with you, but I believe you’ll find my cook’s cuisine palatable enough.”

A stag was dropped then, landing with a dull thud on the flagstones. A very familiar stag.

“We frightened off one of your hunters on our way to the keep,” Weyland said. “The meat was too good to leave for the crows to eat.”

“Oh, quite right, quite right,” Father said, getting to his feet. “Gordon, get Frederick to dress and prepare the stag for our guests.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

“We’ll have that beast slow roasted throughout the day. By the time dinner comes, the venison will be falling from the bone,” Father said as they moved towards the dining hall.

I waited for an appropriate time and then uncoiled myself from where I sat, leading the ladies into the great hall. We retired to our corner of the room, the women gathering up embroidery and other pursuits that would make them look beautiful, cultured and a positive reflection on my father’s house as I picked up my lap harp. I grasped a plectrum in one hand and affixed the other around my thumb before beginning to play something quiet and soothing, hopefully setting the tone for the conversation. Linnea nodded to me slowly, then stood and began to sing, her still beautiful soprano cutting through the air.

“We’ll look forward to that most assuredly, Your Grace,” Axe said, taking a seat as my father gestured for him to do so, the wargen retinue doing the same as Father’s men entered the hall.

Servers moved throughout the space, dispensing drinks first and then, when everyone’s cups were filled, Father stood and proposed a toast.

“To our royal visitors.” Everyone got to their feet and held their glasses. Well, every person who was a noble-born man. We women and the servers just shrank into the background until the time we would be summoned forth again. Father consulted the room with an indulgent smile, the very picture of a benevolent lord. “May your stay be a fruitful one on all sides.”

Did he see the wolfish gleam to the princes’ smiles when they responded to the toast? Did he see their eyes straying sideways to where we, where I sat? I’m sure he would have passed it off as just poor wargen manners, leering at noblewomen like they were wenches, with no clues as to how rude they were being, if he even noticed.

“To mutually beneficial deals,” Dane said with a grin, and, with that, they drank.

I didn’t take a breath until everyone was seated again and food began to be ferried into the hall.

“Your women don’t eat with you, Your Grace?” Weyland asked, shooting us a sidelong look. “Is this how they keep their lissome figures?”

“Lissome?” Father spluttered through his wine. “You’ve got a poetic tongue for a…” Did the hall go slightly quieter at Father’s pause? Did everyone else wait for him to recover, just as I did?

“Warg?” Weyland finished for him, smiling brightly. “It’s quite alright to say. While we are unlikely to take fur on your lands, we remain two-souled. And poetry is a prized thing in my country. I’ll take the compliment, even if it is completely unearned. I am no poet, although, looking at the ladies of your court, I wish I was.”

“Well, then they must join us.” Father turned to us and then waved his hand imperiously, the lot of us getting to our feet immediately, setting aside whatever we had been working on and moving closer.

“And who is this lovely lady?” Axe asked, all of the men rising as we moved to join them. I took my seat in the one my father gestured to, but kept my eyes down.

“My daughter, the Lady Darcy,” he said, which they already knew, something that was evident in the wargen’s smug smiles as they sat back down.

“She is very beautiful, from what I can see,” Weyland said, making a show of peering across the table at me. “Is this why you keep her veiled? To stop your men from being struck dumb by her visage?”

“No, usually she runs around bareheaded like a savage,” Father replied in a terse tone, but then seemed to recover, remembering he had guests. Guests who he wished to deal with. “Remove the veil, Darcy. It’s as if you’re about to walk down the aisle to meet your husband.”

“Of course, Father,” I said, and my hands moved of their own accord, not daring to defy my father, not here.

I removed the circlet, seeing Lady Linnea pause in her conversation further down the table, her eyes widening, but she didn’t say anything either. I set the metal ring down and then pulled the veil away from my face, wasting time folding the fabric into a neat square. But when I looked up, I heard a hiss go around our end of the table. It was Father’s turn to smile smugly as the four men made clear their interest in me. Their eyes glowed an unearthly blue, an obvious hunger burning. All except for Gael. He scowled all the while. Despite that, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to look away.

“She is yet to be married?” Dane asked, trying to settle back, appear cool and calm, but my father would not have held his seat without being canny.

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