She frowned at him, and he smiled back. Not the private one he gave her, but something with less of an edge than his usual Court smile, almost as if he were happy but trying to hide it. She bit the inside of her lip to stop herself from returning a grin that would spark rumor. It took a moment for her compose herself.
“Wait, you actually speak to the horses?” If she’d been in the mortal world and a guy had said that, she would’ve laughed and then ran. Here it was probably the truth. The Hunter had more power than she’d realized.
“Being able to command them is a benefit of the job, but one that can’t be abused.” He was still looking at her, his gray eyes smoky with half-disguised longing. Mortal women would be falling over themselves to get into his bed and he didn’t realize it because he rarely left Annwyn.
He needed to see more of the mortal world, see how good it was, and how much freedom a fairy had there. Usually—except for when the power was about to shift in Annwyn. Maybe after the shift, she could convince him to leave Annwyn for a bit. With that thought, she realized she didn’t want whatever they had to end. Could she live in Annwyn if that was the price for keeping him? She glanced away, unable to look at him.
The trouble with falling was the landing. She knew love wasn’t gentle. Her first human boyfriend had broken her heart even though she’d thought it well protected. Verden had snuck in beneath her guard. Maybe it would be fine and everything would unravel in their favor. Her parents’ love was something special.
But then, she knew if she turned around and talked to the other women, she wouldn’t hear chatter about love—only lust, deals, power, tricks, and games. Nothing of true meaning. Castle Annwyn was full of empty people, living empty lives.
The village was cute. Houses were formed out of trees, much like the castle only quite a bit smaller. Finding Cerela hadn’t been hard at all. After giving Taryn a close inspection, Cerela had invited her in, the rest of the traveling party was taking the time to look at shoes and ribbons and cloth. She’d have liked to look at the clothing too and spend some of the wooden coins that were the currency of Annwyn. However, she was hoping her grandmother would be able to shed some light on what she could do to get the King to remove the exile and invite her parents back to Court.
There were no hugs or anything remotely close to a reunion, just an awkward silence that Taryn had to either break or walk out on. Why did fairies make everything a freakin’ test of wills?
“I came to ask about my parents.”
“Why, are they dead? Is that why you came back?” Cerela raised one fair eyebrow that arched over pale orange eyes, the same as Taryn’s.
So much for motherly love. This woman was as cold as ice and twice as brittle.
“No, my parents are well.” For the moment. “Still in exile though.”
“Chalmer ap Nye comes from a family of liars and vagabonds. He wooed your mother with pretty stories and she fell for it. And fell from grace. She deserves what she got. She sullied my good name—I can’t show my face at Court without whispers.” Her grandmother placed a pot of tea on the table with a thump. “If I were you, I’d concentrate on securing my own position and forget about them. Smell the frost on the air. Change is coming whether we want it or not.”
“Why didn’t you fight for her? She’s your daughter.”
Cerela tilted her head and appraised her as if she were defective, a broken and dirty toy that was only fit to be tossed away. Taryn forced herself to sit up straighter and not look away. She would not be treated like she was no one.
“When she married Chalmer, the King was less than happy. When Chalmer racked up a debt he couldn’t pay, the King saw it as a chance to get rid of him—he never expected one of his Council would choose to follow.”
The key to her parents’ return seemed to lie with her father, as there was no way she could smooth over the embarrassment her mother had caused. “Why does the King hate my father?”
“Felan and Chalmer were close. The King blames Chalmer for Felan’s love of gambling and dancing. Chalmer turned Felan into the wastrel he is today.” Cerela threw her hands into the air. “We are doomed to live in eternal winter.”
“You don’t like Felan either.”
She humphed and sat. “I think there are more suitable candidates.”
Taryn tried not to reveal her shock. Her grandmother was openly discussing…was it treason? If it was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be hearing it, but the fairy curiosity got the better of her. Besides, knowledge really was power here, and she knew Verden would want to know this. Hell, Felan would like to know—if he didn’t already. “There are no other children.”
“Royal blood doesn’t have to come from a direct line, and the right to rule isn’t a gift handed down from generation to generation. It has to be earned. Mark my words, if Felan wants that throne, he’s going to have to put down his goblet and fight for it.”
Taryn blinked and tried to swallow everything she’d heard. Felan wasn’t what her grandmother thought. He already knew someone plotted against him but didn’t know who. Did Cerela? “There’s another fairy with royal blood? How fascinating.”
Cerela patted Taryn on the hand. “Don’t worry your pretty head. Leave the politics for those of us who know how it works. Tea?”
She looked at her grandmother. She’d been given the brush-off. While she was tempted to press, she smiled instead. She’d let Felan know. “You’re right of course. It’s all so confusing here. I swear it will take me a century just to work out what’s going on.”
“I told Arlea to leave you here with me; you would’ve been raised proper instead of being in this mess.” She poured two cups of tea. “Let’s hope spring will be good for all of us. I do so miss those parties.”
Taryn smiled and sipped her sweet tea. It was much safer to act the innocent and pretend she didn’t understand Court at all when what she wanted to know was who was planning for war, and when would they make their move.
The ride back to castle Annwyn was tedious. Verden was riding ahead, which gave her a chance to watch him, to think without needing to work at not giving away her thoughts if someone saw them riding next to each other.
Sulia rode up beside her, bells tinkling around her wrist. Her nails were far too long to be practical and her hair was elaborately done in ribbons and gems. Away from the castle, it seemed all the Ladies listened to Sulia without question. They deferred to her. She looked at Sulia again, searching for a resemblance between her and the King. The song of the stones echoed in her blood. Gwyn had fought his brother. Was Sulia related to the defeated son?
She was jumping to conclusions…and yet…she thought back over everything she’d seen and heard. Sulia had the largest group around her. Queen’s Ladies or Sulia’s? Once the thought sprouted, it took hold. Maybe because she wasn’t enmeshed in the games, she could see them better, spread out before her like a map, if she stepped back and looked instead of trying to get involved. She frowned and let her thoughts drift over all the different exchanges she’d had with people.
“You haven’t said a word since we left the hamlet.” Sulia’s voice shredded Taryn’s thoughts.
“Just thinking.” Taryn glanced at the woman who was becoming more and more helpful by the day. Fairies weren’t that nice unless they wanted something. Taryn’s smile didn’t change, but she went on guard. She hadn’t trusted Sulia from the start and now she was on edge. Damn, she was turning into such a Court fairy.
“I remember Cerela. She is lovely. Very…wise.”
Were they talking about the same woman? Think of something to say that was neutral or possibly flattering. “I can see why my mother wanted me to meet her.”