Wicked heir, p.21
Wicked Heir, page 21
“Kieran, how is recruitment coming along?” Alastair asked. “Are we meeting the numbers you foresee us needing?”
“Yes, they’re excellent,” Kieran answered, fiddling that damn pocket watch between his fingers.
“How much longer until they’re ready to for possible deployment?” Alastair asked.
“I’ve been able to bulk the recruits in record time,” Kieran said. “They can be deployed by the end of the week.
“How?” Emrys asked before he could stop himself.
Kieran narrowed his gaze at him in warning. “I’ve incorporated an enhancement. It’s a secret little formula that’s between me and the lovely boireann who gave it to me.”
“You’re giving the army a potion?” Cyprian asked.
“Nothing gets past you, does it?” Kieran gave a smug half-smile.
Emrys clenched his jaw. Never had he wanted to commit violence on the general as much as he did right now.
“And why is that necessary?” Danu bless Cyprian for being able to converse with Kieran so eloquently. There was a reason he was the barrister for the court.
“Because we’re setting up camps at the end of the month,” Kieran answered.
“That was never decided,” Vasili said in surprise.
“It certainly was.” Kieran turned his gaze to the duke, and Emrys found the calm expression on the general’s face unsettling. “In times of war, the crown overrules the overseer of the territory.”
“We aren’t in a time of war,” Vasili argued.
“Not yet.” Kieran shrugged.
“Kieran,” Cyprian said, his tone a warning. “We haven’t declared war. Therefore, that clause cannot be enacted.”
“We might not have,” he turned his attention to the barrister, “but the Fomóire have, and if we don’t act, we may experience devastating losses to our kind.”
“The Fomóire are beasts,” Laszlo chimed in. “They can’t declare war.”
“Their threat of devastation is enough reason to declare war on our part.” Kieran’s voice was becoming agitated, and Emrys saw him clutch his pocket watch tightly. “I’d rather us secure our lands before we’re wiped off the British Isle.”
“Kieran, we can’t declare war on beasts,” Cyprian said. “We can only create contingencies to implement if they strike.”
“Cyprian, I appreciate your legal perspective, but this is a military matter.” Kieran turned his attention to Vasili. “And neither of you have military experience.”
“Emrys has military experience,” Vasili argued. The duke’s pleading gaze turned to Emrys. “You think we should hold off on implementing camps until we have more evidence, don’t you?”
Sweat collected at Emrys’s brow as he looked between Kieran’s intimidating gaze and Vasili’s desperate one. His mouth opened and closed like a fish as he weighed his options mentally. He couldn’t let his friend be trampled over by Kieran, but he also couldn’t let his relationship with Saoirse be ruined even further by the general. They were still in a precarious position. He could always find a way to earn back Vasili’s respect at a later time, but he might lose Saoirse altogether if he decided to speak up now.
“Emrys,” Vasili said. “What are your thoughts?”
Emrys looked to his father, whose cheeks were twitching. He wasn’t stepping in either and looked to be held in silence against his will.
Emrys swallowed before responding. “I don’t have any. I trust you to make the decision on your own merit.”
Vasili’s brows knitted. “Emrys, what does that mean?”
“His Highness has spoken,” Kieran interrupted. “Either you grant me the power to your territory or risk the cost of delaying it.”
Vasili gave one last confused glance at Emrys before facing Kieran. “Are you absolutely sure this is the best course of action?”
“The longer we wait, the more lives we risk.” The general shrugged. “Our subjects are in your hands, Vasili.”
The duke sighed in defeat. “Alright, I concede.”
“Excellent decision.” Kieran smirked and turned to Alastair. “We’ll have the first camp set up on the north side of Donheath by the end of next week. We’ll increase our recruitment again and have the border of the territory secured before Mabon.”
“That’s excellent to hear,” Alastair said, his mouth finally forming words. After giving his jaw a roll, he quickly moved on to the next order of business. For the rest of the meeting, Emrys avoided Vasili’s gaze.
His heart didn’t stop racing, and the sweat collecting at his brow didn’t evaporate. He would have to explain himself at the end of the meeting, and it scared him nearly as much as facing Saoirse if she were told about their bond. But his marriage had to take precedent over friendships, right? The dukes would understand, wouldn’t they?
The meeting concluded after the more mundane matters were wrapped up, and Alastair and Kieran vacated the room almost immediately. The dukes, however, didn’t budge.
“What in Cernunno’s Wilderness is wrong with you?” Vasili directed his question to Emrys, and the outburst took him off guard. Vasili was usually slow to anger and not at all hostile. But Emrys had really muffed his friend’s trust.
“I’m sorry, Vasili,” he said. “I couldn’t say anything about Kieran’s military plan.”
“And why is that?” Laszlo asked, narrowing his eyes.
“He…” Emrys chewed on the inside of his cheek. “He’s blackmailing me.”
“Blackmailing you?” Laszlo repeated. “With what? You don’t keep secrets.”
“Well, I have one, and Kieran found what it was and is exploiting it.”
Laszlo’s puzzled expression deepened until realization struck his features. “You haven’t told Saoirse you’re mates?”
“How did you deduce that?” Cyprian asked, stunned.
The Duke of Cogwick shrugged. “Emrys doesn’t hide much, and he told us earlier he hasn’t told Saoirse about what Kieran did to him. Why would that be what Kieran leveraged against him? That led me to think of the only other thing he might keep from Saoirse, and that’s their bond.”
The barrister stared at him. “What are you doing in business? You’d almost make a better lawyer than me.”
Laszlo slowly grinned with pride. “Thank you.”
“You put my territory at risk because you didn’t tell your wife about your silly little bond?” Vasili’s voice rose, and the room fell silent.
Emrys’s sweat intensified, but his mouth went dry. “I’m sorry, Vasili, but if Saoirse found out from Kieran, I would lose her completely.”
“And you couldn’t have just told her yourself?” The disgust on the duke’s face made Emrys’s stomach knot.
“I can’t tell her yet.”
“Why not?” Vasili demanded. “It’s a simple conversation. And if it came from you, she’d be less likely to rebuke it.”
“It’s not that simple, Vasili.”
“Yes, it is!” The duke rose to his feet. “You’re a being a selfish cad because you don’t want to be uncomfortable. Instead, you make my life unbearable. Friends don’t do that, Emrys.”
“Vasili, I really am sorry. I—”
“No, I don’t want excuses. You had a chance to do the right thing, and you didn’t. I can’t believe I considered you a friend who supported me.” Vasili stormed out of the room, leaving an awkward silence in his wake.
“You made Vasili…angry,” Laszlo said. “I didn’t think he could be angry.”
Emrys groaned. “I ruined a lot, didn’t I?”
“You let Kieran ruin not only a friendship but a precarious political situation as well,” Cyprian remarked. “I would consider that a lot.”
Emrys thudded his head against the table.
“It could have been worse,” Laszlo said.
“How?” Emrys growled.
“Vasili could have tried to swing at you.”
Emrys picked his head up and glared at the duke. “Vasili acting in violence is your idea of worse?”
“As I said, I didn’t think the fireann could feel anger, so yes, violence would be worse.” Laszlo shrugged.
“Leave,” Emrys said flatly.
“But—”
“Both of you, take your wives, and leave.”
The sound of chair legs scraping echoed in the room, and the dukes shuffled out with little more than a mumble of farewell, leaving Emrys to sulk on his own.
Saoirse settled into her armchair in the drawing room and patiently awaited her friends. Her afternoon with Isolde earlier in the week had her eager for their scheduled afternoon tea with all the duchesses. Talking to Isolde had helped Saoirse feel a little less isolated in her relationship. It was something she never could have done with Cressida when she was with Kieran. If she had revealed her involvement with the general to her sister-in-law, there wasn’t a single possibility where Cressida wouldn’t have shared that with Eamon. And if Eamon knew about them…
“Good afternoon.” Isolde’s melodic voice broke the spiral Saoirse was about to slip into. The duchess wore a soft green blouse with lacy details around the collar and a matching dark green jacket and skirt. A pale gold pearl comb was nestled in her blonde bun and glinted every time the light caught it.
“You’re a bit early,” Saoirse said.
“It’s Cyprian’s fault,” Isolde grumbled. “He kept getting on to me all morning about being ready to leave and we wind up arriving early.” The duchess rolled her eyes, annoyed. “It’s like he doesn’t trust me to be on time to anything. But enough about my pain in the arse of a husband. How have you and Emrys been?”
“Are you starting without us?” Andromeda interrupted, walking through the door. She wore a beautiful, delicate white lace ensemble with her hair pulled up into a period appropriate pompadour.
Calliope trailed behind her, her cane absent today. Her attire looked the most subdued in a cream-colored blouse and blush pink walking skirt. But with her rich brown skin, it popped just as much as the dark green Isolde wore against her pale complexion. The two duchesses settled on the settee and Saoirse, having learned her lesson from their last tea, began to pour tea and pass the cups around.
“So, what have we missed?” Andromeda asked.
“Well, I was complaining about how my husband was badgering me all morning that we ended up arriving early, but it looks like I wasn’t the only one.” Isolde daintily stirred her tea.
“Vasili has been a bit more anxious than usual,” Calliope supplied. “It was either arrive early or spend hours later tonight trying to ease him.”
“Hours?” Andromeda asked, arching a brow. “I didn’t think the fireann could go more than thirty minutes.”
Calliope shook her head. “Sex is the last thing he’s interested in when he’s like this. He usually ends up needing near complete silence and a hot bath that is nearly scalding. I don’t mind it, but not being able to do anything else to alleviate his anxious state makes me feel helpless.”
“That’s understandable,” Isolde said. “Cyprian has had to deal with my moments like that, and coming from the person who has been in Vasili’s shoes, we hate that we can’t have you do more either.”
“This is becoming a bit depressing,” Andromeda commented. “I was looking forward to riveting conversation about someone’s sex life. Could we move onto that? Saoirse, you’re still a newlywed. You must have something titillating we haven’t heard yet.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Saoirse said. “But Emrys and I have been going through a rough period.”
“Already?” Andromeda asked. “Over what?”
Saoirse chewed on her bottom lip and glanced at Isolde. The duchess sipped her tea and shrugged.
“They’ve been through worse if it makes you feel any better,” she said. “Andromeda alone—”
“Has gone through a lot,” Andromeda finished for her. “And I don’t plan on discussing it today.” The duchess shot a look at Isolde who, quickly tightened her lips.
“Well, there’s no use in delaying it then.” Saoirse let out a long exhale. “It has to do with Kieran.” She glanced at Andromeda and Calliope whose expressions were a mix between piqued curiosity and surprise. “I used to have a relationship with him. It ended several months before Emrys and I were arranged. But he’s been trying to convince me I deserve someone like him more than I do Emrys. Unfortunately, I let his words resonate too much with me and pushed Emrys away as a result.”
“How did Emrys respond?” Andromeda asked.
“He put up a good fight to keep me from pushing him too far.” Saoirse gave a small smile. “He’s also been working tirelessly to keep me from believing anything that comes out Kieran’s mouth.”
Calliope swooned. “That’s the protective trait of mates for you.”
“No,” Isolde said quickly. “Anyone can feel protective. I would be protective of Cyprian if that past lover of his tried to convince him he was a terrible husband.”
The duchesses shared several looks with each other, and Saoirse knit her brows. “You believe mates exist?” she asked.
“They have to,” Andromeda answered. “The gods must get bored watching society pair themselves off. Sprinkling in mating bonds gives life a bit more spice for them.”
“Do you three believe your spouse is also your mate?” Saoirse followed up. She didn’t believe for a moment mates were true, but she was in the mood to entertain her friends.
Andromeda let out a snort. “Laszlo and I have known each other since we were teens. If we were mates, I would think we would know by now.”
Saoirse saw Isolde stiffen from the corner of her eye. She was about to ask if she was alright when Calliope weighed in on the subject.
“Mates are fairly rare,” she said. “A mating bond is considered a gift from the gods, and they’re very picky on who they bless with a bond.”
“Well, it seems like all you have to do is be a self-absorbed arse to be someone’s mate.” Saoirse let out a sardonic noise. “The only mates I’m aware of are my brother and his wife, and I know it’s a blatant lie he told her so she didn’t leave him.”
“That’s only one couple,” Calliope argued. “The mated pairs I’ve encountered are very loving and would never lie to each other.”
“Mates can never lie, actually,” Isolde chimed in. “It’s one of their traits.”
That tidbit didn’t sit right with Saoirse. There had been a few moments when she had been inclined to be honest while talking to Emrys. But that was because she trusted him with the truth. Wasn’t it?
“So while mates can’t lie,” Saoirse continued, entertaining the idea just a bit further, “someone could lie about being a mate? How does that help anyone decipher what’s true and what’s not?”
Isolde shrugged. “There must be other signs. I would think they would share something physically that would indicate a bond.”
“Didn’t you tell me you could see threads of relationships between people?” Saoirse asked. “Wouldn’t you be able to tell if a couple were mates or not?”
Isolde froze again and shook her head vigorously. “I’ve never come across any mates.” She slurped her tea and avoided everyone’s gaze. “I wouldn’t know what shade those threads would be.”
“Isolde learned a while ago not to meddle with relationship threads,” Andromeda explained. “She nearly ruined a century’s long marriage between the Dukes of Frigrave.”
“I simply mistook their romantic thread for their platonic one,” Isolde said, trying to defend herself. “I truly had the best intentions in mind.”
“Yet you learned to stop meddling because of it.” Andromeda sipped her tea as she stared down the other duchess.
Isolde glared at her but didn’t argue otherwise. Saoirse pondered the workings of Isolde’s secondary magic. How did she know she had it? Was it something she had from an early age, or did it develop along with her primary magic? Her curiosity about Isolde’s ability distracted her enough to put the argument of mates aside as the conversation shifted back to the current status of her relationship with Emrys.
“So, you said you and Emrys are mending your marriage,” Andromeda said.
“We’ve been working through it,” Saoirse replied. “We’re slowly rebuilding what we lost.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Isolde smiled at her, and Saoirse couldn’t help but return it.
“Yes, and I’ve heard fucking is an excellent way to rebuild a relationship,” Andromeda added.
“We’re nowhere close to that.” Saoirse stifled a giggle. “He barely touches me beyond a pat on the shoulder.”
“Emrys?” Calliope asked. “The fireann who can’t keep his hands to himself even with our husbands? That Emrys?”
Saoirse giggled. “The exact one. I had to tug him into an embrace yesterday.”
“Emrys enjoys physical touch, but he takes consent very seriously.” Andromeda bit into one of the macarons. “If you told him what you’re comfortable with, he’ll follow through with it.”
Saoirse sat back and contemplated the suggestion. Maybe she could also put in an effort to assure him his work wasn’t a waste. Her thoughts wandered further to what kissing Emrys again would feel like. Yesterday reminded her of how far they had come before it crumbled. She wanted to reach that point. She wanted it so badly it physically hurt her.
“I know that look,” Andromeda said, pulling Saoirse from her introspection. “That look usually leads to fucking on the sofa.”
Saoirse couldn’t hold back her laugh this time. The duchess had sniffed out her craving for more than just a kiss. Even though Saoirse had been quenching her thirst for desire on her own, it didn’t compare to what she had shared with Emrys and what more they could indulge in.
