Wicked heir, p.16
Wicked Heir, page 16
“I don’t want to make any decisions regarding Donheath without Vasili’s input,” Alastair answered. “He gave no indication that he desired military action in his letter, and I have to respect that.”
“We should still prepare ourselves.” Kieran said. “Expanding the army doesn’t interfere with the territory. It merely prepares us to act in case the Fomóire threaten to strike in Donheath.”
“Do we have the resources to do that?” Emrys asked. “The Royal Mere army is the largest fae army already. If we expand it further, it might put a strain elsewhere.”
“That’s just a price we would have to pay for safety.” Kieran shrugged.
“Potentially starving the territory in the name of military intimidation doesn’t sound very safe,” Emrys retorted.
“Kieran, Emrys has a point,” Alastair interjected. “Where do you propose we pull resources from in order to expand the military?”
Kieran furiously fidgeted with his pocket watch. “There has to be an area that has some fat we can trim in order to finance the expansion. Resolving the threat of the Fomóire is a top priority, isn’t it?”
Alastair sighed. “I’ll have Laszlo put together a financial report and evaluate where we have extra funds. We’ll reassess this at the next council meeting.”
Kieran tucked his pocket watch back in his waistcoat pocket and stood. “Thank you, Your Majesty, for wasting my time to tell me there’s nothing we can do.” With that, he left without another word.
Emrys watched a muscle in Alastair’s jaw flex as if he was fighting against an invisible gag. His face relaxed once Kieran was out of sight, and he sighed with relief. “Will you draft a letter to Laszlo asking for a report?” Alastair asked, glossing over Kieran’s inappropriate parting words.
It didn’t surprise Emrys. His father had always overlooked Kieran’s indecencies, including those that directly affected Emrys.
“Yes, I will,” Emrys said flatly. “Is that all you need from me?”
“I do have one more matter,” Alastair said. “I want to ask how Saoirse is.”
A flare of jealousy kindled in Emrys’s gut. His father had an interest in anyone except his own son. The only silver lining was that if Alastair had a genuine interest in Saoirse’s wellbeing, he would likely step in to keep her safe if needs be.
“She’s doing better,” Emrys answered tightly. “We’ve started training, and I think she’ll be just fine.”
“And…no one else knows about it, correct?” Alastair gave him that serious gaze again and with the way his volume dropped to nearly a whisper, Emrys could safely assume his father was worried about Kieran learning of Saoirse’s magic.
“No more than Seraphina and Ada still.”
“Good.” Alastair nodded and turned his attention to some papers that were on his desk. “Please give her my regards.”
“I will.” Emrys gave a half-hearted attempt at a smile and rose from his chair. He took a step towards the door before a thought struck him. “Father, can I ask for a favor?” Alastair turned his attention, and Emrys quickly added a detail he hoped would secure his agreement. “It’s for Saoirse.”
Alastair raised a brow. “What is it?”
“Will you tell Kieran not to come to the house when he isn’t invited?” Emrys asked. There was no way Kieran would obey Emrys’s request, but he had a better chance if it came from Alastair.
His father’s expression dimmed. “I will do my best.”
“Thank you.” Emrys nodded to his father before making his way out of the office. With his mind calmer, he felt better prepared to talk to Saoirse. He hoped his effort to keep Kieran out of the house was enough to earn her forgiveness. But Emrys’s calm was tested when he was intercepted in the hall.
“Kieran, whatever petty argument you want to pick, I don’t have time for it.” He tried to push past the general, but Kieran stepped with him to block his path.
“No arguments here,” he said. “I only wanted to inform you that your little mate is quite chatty.”
Emrys’s eyes widened when Kieran uttered the word mate. He glanced over Kieran’s shoulder and hoped the walls in this house were thicker than he assumed they were.
“You haven’t told her?” Kieran’s gaze studied Emrys’s face as if formulating something in his mind. A slow smile spread across his face a moment later. “Sweet, naïve Emrys, don’t you know keeping secrets from your wife is in very poor taste?” Kieran’s rumbling chuckle made Emrys’s blood boil. “I would hate for you two to have a falling out over such an easy conversation.”
“Kieran, stop.” Emrys clenched his jaw, holding himself back from grabbing Kieran’s collar and connecting his fist with the general’s nose.
“I promise I won’t speak a word of it,” Kieran continued, ignoring Emrys’s command. “For a price.”
Emrys closed his eyes, weighing his options. Telling Kieran to get lost in Cernunnos’s Wilderness would put him in the position of having to be constantly vigilant of the general’s interactions with Saoirse. Which was difficult when Kieran enjoyed coming by without notice. His other option was to tell Saoirse, but with the way he had already tarnished some of her trust, he risked losing her altogether with the truth.
“What is your price?” Emrys murmured.
“Nothing too steep.” Kieran shrugged. “Silence for silence. When the time comes for me to inform Vasili of my military plans in Donheath, you don’t say a word. You don’t have to sell him the idea if he’s unsure of it, but you don’t outright object to it either. In return, Saoirse stays blissfully unaware of your little secret.”
Emrys sighed. Betraying his friends was nearly as painful as betraying Saoirse. But Vasili would eventually understand. Besides, maybe he could build Saoirse’s trust again—and his courage—to tell her, and Kieran’s deal would be completely moot.
“Fine,” Emrys huffed. “But when it’s no longer a secret with Saoirse, this deal is off.”
“That’s only fair.” Kieran turned to descend the stairs but paused. “I hope you know the longer you wait, the worse her reaction will be. So, you either take this secret to your grave or break her heart. The choice is yours.”
Emrys lost his hold on his self-control and made to lunge for the general, but a gust of wind smacked him in the chest.
Kieran’s element of magic.
Emrys faltered for a moment until he got his footing and seethed at the general. “Uh-uh,” Kieran taunted. “You can’t assault me either.”
“You can’t change the terms after we’ve agreed on them.”
“Would you like me to find your wife now and nullify our entire agreement?” Kieran offered. When Emrys stayed silent, the general flashed a toothy, devilish grin. “I didn’t think so.” Kieran swaggered down the stairs, leaving Emrys to deal with his mix of emotions where he stood.
Saoirse inwardly groaned when she heard the door to the sitting room open. She was just about to finish her breakfast when Emrys came up beside her.
“Is now a better time to discuss this morning?” he asked quietly, squatting down beside her chair.
Against her better judgment, she turned to look at him and saw his look of remorse. She didn’t know what to say to him. Her thoughts still echoed Kieran’s words, and she was struggling to shake them.
“Or can I grovel for forgiveness?” He lifted one corner of his lips in a half-hearted grin.
“The latter sounds more appealing,” Saoirse said.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you Kieran would be here today,” Emrys said. “There are several things I should have done, but I can’t go back and change it now. I can only apologize and do better in the future. I’ve already asked my father to tell Kieran to only come when he’s invited.”
“You asked your father?” She knew that had to be difficult for him. Alastair didn’t exactly favor Emrys enough to warrant considering a request like that.
“I asked for your sake,” he answered. “I knew Kieran would disregard anything I asked of him, but if it came from my father, there’s a higher chance he’ll heed it.”
A smile tugged at Saoirse’s lips. He acted to amend his slip up without her even asking. Only someone who was a high priority to him would get that kind of treatment. “Is he going to follow through with it?” she asked.
“He said he’ll try,” Emrys answered. “Kieran has some kind of hold on him. I can’t quite explain it, but…” He stared off in puzzlement for a moment before shaking his head. She knew what he was referring to. She had seen it in the council meeting, the way he acted like he had an invisible restraint on his voice. “Anyway,” Emrys continued, “the point is he agreed to it. He cares about you and your wellbeing. I might have mixed feeling on the fireann, but I won’t upset the applecart if your wellbeing is looked after.”
Saoirse’s smile grew a little wider. Kieran was a cad for insinuating she wasn’t anyone’s priority. Emrys was proving him false and so was Alastair. They both cared about her immensely and prioritized her happiness.
“Thank you,” she said. “I know that must not have been easy.”
“Nothing I do for you is difficult.” The whisper of a grin he had slowly faded. “Which is why I’m sorry for how badly I blundered this morning. Will you please forgive me?”
Saoirse leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Yes, I forgive you.”
His posture melted in relief, and his smile returned.
“But,” she said, a Cheshire Cat grin spreading on her face. “I could do with some more groveling.”
He chuckled and kissed her, rising to his full height. “You’re too late. You’ve forgiven me. I can be a cheeky cad once again.”
“My cheeky cad.” She stood, giggling, and wrapped her arms around his waist. The heat of his body radiated against hers, and she wanted nothing more than to melt against him. He ran his hands over her arms, and the strength of his grip made her sigh with that contentment she woke up.
“I think this will benefit both of us,” he said. “Not seeing Kieran unless it’s a council meeting isn’t the worst thing in the world.”
“As someone with family who I’d be happy to never see again, I don’t blame you.”
The twinkle in the gold flecks of his eyes dimmed. “That’s not exactly why.”
Saoirse crinkled her brows. “What is it?”
The muscles in his jaw worked for a minute before he swallowed. “He’s the one who gave me my scars.”
Her stomach plummeted at his confession. She didn’t know how to respond. She wanted to tighten her grip on his waist, or kiss every inch of him until the sadness in his eyes disappeared—anything to ease the pain she saw in his expression.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Emrys pressed his lips to her forehead and let them linger on her skin. He didn’t open up further about his scars, but Saoirse knew how difficult it was to open old wounds, so she didn’t press him for details. Knowing they were inflicted by Kieran told her enough.
Emrys slowly kissed down to her lips, his touch languid. She dug her fingers into his waistcoat and sighed. While she loved the urgency that came with hot passion, there was something to be said about taking their time. She deeply felt every graze and grope they shared, and the spark made itself present with every new sensation that touched her.
He picked her up into his arms, her legs wrapping around his hips, when an untimely knock interrupted. Their lips pulled apart, and they shared heavy breaths.
“I’m going to undermine Ada and fire every staff member in this house,” Emrys murmured.
Saoirse couldn’t help but giggle as he gently placed her back on the ground. A maid curtsied before scurrying in and making a beeline for Saoirse’s breakfast tray. She picked it up without a word and quickly made her way back to the hall. Saoirse rested her head against Emrys’s chest, her fit of giggles still bubbling inside her.
“Well, this is a terrible time to be reminded I have work that needs to be done,” he grumbled.
Devilishly, she grazed her thigh over the hard bulge she felt at his groin. “How badly do you need to work?” she asked in a sultry tone.
He grunted in frustration. “Staving off an attack by rock creatures from the ocean is fairly pressing.” He dropped a kiss to the crown of her head. “I’ll just think of the time I witnessed Cyprian treating an infection in his toenail. That usually calms everything down.”
Saoirse pictured the fireann using one of Seraphina’s remedies on unnaturally yellow toenails. It, too, calmed any flicker of passion in her body. Emrys gently lifted her head so she could meet his gaze, and while passion had been extinguished, that spark continued to ripple through her.
“Shall we continue this later?” he asked.
“If I can get that image of Cyprian out of mind, yes.”
“You can also join me as I work. I’d never reject company.”
“Will you get any work done with me around?” She raised a brow.
He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “If I don’t, I won’t be upset.”
“You’ll have to explain why you slacked off to the court tomorrow in your council meeting.”
“The dukes would understand,” he said in a low voice.
Saoirse gave a low laugh and shook her head. “You’d better work alone. Otherwise you’ll have to think of something much worse than infected toenails.”
Emrys sighed in exaggerated defeat. “How dare you be responsible.”
She giggled again as he gave her another kiss. But he also acted responsibly and slipped out of her grip before disappearing into the hall.
15
Saoirse straightened the trays of sandwiches and biscuits in the drawing room as she anxiously awaited her guests. She had been spending hours training and was looking forward to spending an afternoon doing something other than flexing her magic. Over the last few days, the soreness in her body seemed to compound instead of ease, and spending a whole afternoon sitting and enjoying tea sounded heavenly.
The three duchesses were set to arrive at any minute, and while Emrys swore to Saoirse she had met them at their wedding, she still had little recollection of it. She was looking forward to meeting them properly and spending the afternoon with them. Ada and Rory had decorated the low table in the drawing room with a linen tablecloth and had arranged a variety of finger sandwiches, scones, tea, and spreads. They had also plated delicious-looking biscuits, but had lost track of them amidst the preparations.
“Good afternoon,” a light voice sang.
Saoirse turned to see a boireann with dark almond eyes and long hair that spilled over her shoulders like liquid onyx had entered the room. Her porcelain skin popped against her sapphire blue skirt and matching jacket. Saoirse grinned as she noticed the fuchsia pink necktie the duchess wore at her collar.
“Good afternoon,” Saoirse returned.
The duchess plopped herself in the armchair adjacent to Saoirse and leaned towards the low table to inspect the food. “Ada and Rory have outdone themselves.”
“I’m sure they’d love to hear that themselves.”
The duchess plucked a tea sandwich from a tray and took a dainty bite. She hummed her satisfaction and nodded. The corner of Saoirse’s lips twitched up as she imagined Eamon’s reaction to the duchess’s manners. If this had been in his presence, he would have been horrified by the duchess’s lack of decorum by tasting the spread before the rest of the guests had arrived. But in this court, the relaxed manners made Saoirse less anxious about doing the wrong thing.
“I must apologize,” Saoirse said sheepishly. “But I was terribly busy on the day of the wedding, and I don’t remember meeting you or the other duchesses.”
The duchess giggled. “No need to apologize. You and Emrys looked quite infatuated with each other that night. I wouldn’t blame you if you forgot your own name.” She winked knowingly, and Saoirse’s face heated. “I’m Andromeda, Duchess of Cogwick. Laszlo’s wife, if you need your memory refreshed as to which of the dukes belongs to me.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you…officially.” Saoirse grinned.
“Something smells delicious.” Another voice drifted into the room and two boireannaich appeared in the entry. “Andromeda, have you started eating without us?” The duchess who spoke had golden hair pulled into a prim pompadour at the crown of her head and wore a blush pink skirt and an ivory lace blouse adorned with a cameo. Her attire was a stark contrast to Andromeda’s loud combination of colors.
“I was merely tasting,” Andromeda shrugged. “Someone has to assure that the food is edible.”
“It sounds more like you wanted to ensure none of the cucumber sandwiches made it onto anyone else’s plate,” The third duchess that joined them said, pointing her polished wooden cane at Andromeda. Most of her brown curly hair was pulled back into a bun, but a few short tendrils hung to frame her face. A burnt orange jacket and skirt set complimented the rich brown complexion of her skin.
“I do adhere to the rule of whoever finds something first is entitled to it.” Andromeda took another irreverent bite of her sandwich.
“That seems to be the only rule you adhere to.” The blonde duchess reached her hands towards Andromeda’s hair, but they were batted away. “Are you ever going to wear your hair properly?”
“No, you know how terrible my hair looks teased,” Andromeda protested. “I absolutely detest what the humans have set as a trend. I miss the hair during Victoria’s years.”
“At least let me pull it back and put a bow in it.”
Andromeda sighed and let her fellow duchess gather her hair at her nape. A black velvet ribbon was pulled from the fair-haired duchess’s skirt pocket and was used to tie Andromeda’s hair back.
“Do you always have a ribbon on your person?” Saoirse asked.
“I always have it when I know I’ll be around Andromeda,” the duchess said with the whisper of a smirk on her face. “I know better than to assume she’s put her hair in a proper pompadour.”
Andromeda rolled her eyes. “Thank you, Mother,” she said. “Before you two continue to reprimand me about my social faux pas, why don’t you introduce yourselves to our host?”
