Page 36 of The High Mountain Court

Talhan looked to Carys. “The three of us are at the end of the hall on the left.” The female fae shouldered her bag and took off in that direction with no more prompting. Talhan passed a key to Hale. “And you two are up two more flights in the corner room, naturally.”

“You two?” Remy asked, darting looks between Talhan and Hale.

Talhan scrunched his face at her, waiting for her to catch on. His brows lifted as if to say: you are his red witch, what were you expecting? Remy’s cheeks reddened. She should have assumed as much.

Heather moved to interject as another patron’s footsteps sounded on the stairs. Remy quickly grabbed the key from Talhan and shouted, her voice an octave too high, “Come, Your Highness, let us go see our view.”

“With pleasure.” Hale guffawed, hurrying Remy along as she pretended to shriek in delight.

Remy had seen this flirtatious act play out so many times in so many taverns. She never thought she would be one of those women, yet here she was, pretending to be the lover of a prince.

She glanced over her shoulder, seeing Fenrin stare her down, his cheeks flushed red and something between anger and amusement playing across his face. Fenrin had never thought he would pretend this way either. Remy couldn’t deny the twinge of guilt that hit her as she realized she was the reason they had dragged him into this. Perhaps Bri was right after all. Perhaps it would be kinder to Heather and Fenrin if she cut them loose.

Bri caught Remy’s arm before Remy could move past to the stairwell.

“I left an outfit on the bed for you to wear today. Your other apparel and shoes are in the wardrobe,” she said with a smile.

“How much did you buy?” Remy asked.

Bri shrugged. “Not too much.”

“Did you spend all my money?” Hale laughed.

“You didn’t want us to spend it all?” Bri smirked, passing them and stalking off down the hall.

* * *

The corner suite of the inn was the finest room in the place. The large windows looked over both the turquoise river and the verdant gardens. A giant four-poster bed sat against the far wall, billowing white curtains flowing from each post. A sitting area with a blue velvet couch and two matching armchairs were arranged in one corner. Bookcases framed either side of a fireplace with a fire already burning away. Another door led into a bathing chamber holding a giant marble tub.

Remy gawked, looking around the room. It was fit for a queen. She glanced at Hale as he watched her with a smug expression. She supposed they designed it to fit royalty, since he was, in fact, a prince. His status hadn’t confronted her so much as it had in this moment. They had travelled through the woods and backcountry. There had been no praise or fawning over Hale as they journeyed this far. But now, in fae society, he held himself differently. He acted like he was aware of the deferential stares of the surrounding people. He stood straighter, his chin tilted higher. It made Remy wonder if she knew which face was the mask and which one was real.

A new traveling pack for the prince already sat on a low table next to a grand armoire, open and overflowing with clothes. A red, floor-length gown hung prominently on the hook behind the door.

“You did well,” Hale said, sitting in one of the velvet armchairs. He removed his boots and set them by the fire.

“Thanks . . .” Remy said, still staring at the enormous bed.

“It probably is as comfortable as you’re guessing,” Hale followed her gaze, “but we will be out for most of the night tonight. Tomorrow when we return from the game, successful or not, we will make a hasty exit.”

“Such a waste.” Remy pouted at the luxurious white linen.

“Indeed.” Hale laughed.

Remy sensed him watching her. She wondered if he was trying to capture her gaze. Biting her lip, she doubled her efforts to avoid that magnetizing face.

Hale moved to his old pack against the wall. Fishing something out of the bottom pocket, he handed it to Remy.

“Here,” Hale said, “put this on your necklace.”

Necklace. He said it as if the collar were a piece of jewelry and not a symbol of ownership. Still, Remy held out her hand and accepted the golden ring the prince passed her. She turned it over in her fingers. HN, his initials, engraved the golden surface. Remy untied her collar and threaded the ring through.

“But I am wearing your family’s crest already?” Remy questioned, pursing her lips at the ring on the collar.

“Yes, but that ring says you do not belong to my family . . . you belong to me.” His words dropped into a low rumble. An unknown heat deep in Remy rumbled along with it. You belong to me. “It also says I treat you well and that I trust you not to run off with my gold.”

Remy finished clasping the collar back on her neck. She reached under her tunic and into the hidden pocket sewn into the lining, pulling out her totem bag.

As Remy opened the small pouch, the sound of the ring on her stone tag clinked along her collar. Remy produced a long length of red string from the bag, then closed it and tucked the bag back in her pocket.

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