Wicked heir, p.9
Wicked Heir, page 9
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” she said with a small smile. She took the seat Emrys had pulled out for her and smoothed the lap of her dark brown skirt. She had tried to imagine what she would have worn if any of her brothers had invited her to a court meeting. Her finest shirtwaist and skirt with just a few touches of jewelry were the best she could put together without a decent frame of reference.
“Emrys, I didn’t know we were bringing our partners to council now,” another duke said. Saoirse’s attention turned towards him, and she observed his dark hair and angular features. He was dressed in a black brocade waistcoat that, in contrast to the other duke, was straining to smother his broad chest. “You know Isolde would jump at the chance to have a say in our meetings.”
“Well, when she is next in line for queen, she can join us.” Emrys chuckled and smirked at the duke. “Until then, Cyprian, I implore you to not be rude to my future wife.”
The duke’s high cheeks turned a bright shade of pink as he cleared his throat. “My apologies, Your Highness,” he said, his face still flushed. “I should have introduced myself before making jests. I’m Cyprian, Duke of Stoneblack. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Hello, Cyprian.” Saoirse gave a polite smile, and something in her felt free. Everyone else in this room skipped the constant honorifics and passed over politeness for fondness. It was freeing to sit at a table and not have to worry how she was sitting or how she addressed the rest of the court. “And I forgive you. Your wife sounds like someone who would punish you enough in my name.” She received a nervous laugh from the duke before he averted his gaze away from her.
“Trust me, we all apologize on his behalf,” one of the other dukes said from across the table. His deep, tanned complexion complimented his black hair. He wore a navy blue waistcoat with silver trim around the collar and buttons and cuff links that matched. “I’m Laszlo, Duke of Cogwick. May I offer you a drink?” He held up his small glass tumbler filled with an inch of warm amber liquid.
“No, thank you,” Saoirse answered.
“You do realize it’s my liquor you’re offering to pour, don’t you?” Emrys asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Actually, I believe it’s your father’s.” Laszlo corrected.
“Ah, well, in that case.” Emrys rolled his eyes, but the upward tilt of the corner of his mouth gave away his lack of seriousness.
“I do wish Andromeda was here,” Laszlo drawled. “She would have a field day with Cyprian putting his foot in his mouth and the witty responses Her Highness has to them.” He winked at Saoirse, and the Duke of Stoneblack gave him a glare. Saoirse stifled a giggle by chewing on the inside of her cheek.
“Well, I’m not one to follow in Cyprian’s footsteps either,” the last duke said. In contrast to the other two dukes, he had a slender build and a dark brown and gold brocade waistcoat. It complemented his pale complexion and dark hair and eyes. “I’m Vasili, Duke of Donheath. And unlike these two, I don’t think my wife would find any of these meetings interesting. She’d be much more at home with Seraphina.”
“The Head Healer?” Saoirse asked.
Vasili nodded. “Calliope, my wife, is a High Healer and would much rather discuss remedies for measles than remedies for the economy. Although I don’t think even those two could find a cure for whatever disease plagues Cyprian to say stupid shite.”
“Alright, you’ve all had your fun,” Cyprian ground out. “We don’t need to mock me for the rest of the meeting.”
“We’re sorry, Cyprian, but you make it too easy.” Laszlo nursed his drink, hiding his amused grin, as a few snickers echoed in the room.
“Well, again, it’s a pleasure to meet all of you, poor impressions and all.” Saoirse didn’t glance at the duke, but she heard Cyprian sigh in relief. “I hope my presence doesn’t interfere with your work.”
“You won’t be a hindrance, Your Highness,” Vasili said in assurance. “If anything, everyone will be falling over themselves to look impressive today.”
Tension she hadn’t realized that was sitting in her shoulders loosened as she realized how at ease she was in a room full of fireannaich. None of them gave her a reason to be intimidated nor showed any signs of wariness from her presence. She was assumed and accepted as an equal.
An equal.
That revelation hit her the hardest. Eamon had always assigned her to tasks that he felt were too menial for him. The fact he never explained how to complete them was a completely different argument altogether. But no matter how well or hard she worked to complete his asks, he still found ways to demean her and convince her it was her fault that she failed. For a while, she believed him.
But sitting in this room, a room full of very competent, albeit comical, fireannaich, she was being respected as an equal and finding fewer reasons to choose to leave. Choosing Emrys meant she would be choosing these people as well. They barely knew her, yet they accepted her and welcomed her into their fold. It was enough to tip the scales further in the direction of staying.
“Well, we’re a boisterous bunch today.” A deep, rumbling voice broke through the laughter in the room, and attention turned to Alastair in the doorway. He made his way to one of the empty chairs near Saoirse and gave her a closed-lip grin. “Saoirse,” he said, his eyes softening. “I’m glad to see you join us today.”
“I appreciate being allowed to join,” she said in return.
Alastair’s face fell in horror for just a moment before he quickly recovered with a smile. “You’re always welcome to join. I hope none of these four have told you otherwise.” His eyes drifted over the room, and the dukes shook their heads vigorously.
“No, not at all,” Saoirse said before someone opened their mouth and accidentally incriminated themselves with poorly chosen words. “My brother has been the one to tell me I’m unwelcome at court meetings. These uaislean have been nothing but kind since I’ve sat down.”
“Good.” Alastair sat back in his seat, and Saoirse could feel the atmosphere in the room had shifted.
She glanced sideways at Emrys and noticed his posture had become stiffer. Kieran hadn’t even arrived and already Emrys was on edge. She reached for his hand and brushed her thumb over his knuckles. The tension eased in his hand, and he turned his palm upwards, clasping her hand.
An uncomfortable silence fell over the room until the last member of the court joined the room. Kieran swaggered in and took a seat next to Alastair. No one spoke, but everyone’s line of sight confirmed they registered his presence.
The general’s gaze swept over the room, and it was Saoirse’s turn to stiffen as his dark eyes met hers. She squeezed Emrys’s hand and received three light squeezes from him in return. She glanced at him, and he communicated his encouragement to her silently. The spark that continued to strike her in his presence shot up her spine, and it was enough to muster the strength to not dash out of the room.
Kieran’s acknowledgement of her presence was fleeting as he pulled his pocket watch from his plain, black waistcoat and checked the time, stroking his thumb over the face of the watch. “Apologies for my tardiness,” he said, bored. “I just received the news about Donheath.”
“I’m sorry,” Vasili blurted. “What news?”
“You haven’t been told?” Kieran asked, a bit of astonishment in his tone.
The duke shook his head, a puzzled expression creating a crease between his brows.
“You oversee everything that happens in your territory, do you not?” Kieran’s tone shifted into condescending.
“Kieran.” A quiet growl came from the back of Emrys’s throat, warning him.
“Let him answer, Emrys,” the general said coolly. “I want to confirm that he’s competent in his position.”
Emrys’s fingers twitched in Saoirse’s hand. At least she wasn’t the only one who was easily agitated by Kieran.
“Yes, Kieran, I am fully aware of what happens in Donheath,” Vasili answered.
“Then why do I know about a sighting of Fomóire in your territory before you do?” Kieran inquired. “I think that’s a bit concerning.”
Fomóire? Why would Fomóire make their presence in England? Saoirse might not have known much of what went on in the world outside her family’s home, but she was educated on Fomóire and other beings of that sort.
They were rock-like creatures that dwelled in the ocean and mostly kept to themselves. The last time they were seen on land was centuries ago during the Great Conquest where the fae and gods clashed, Dagda’s treasures being the prize for the winners. The god had carelessly left his treasures on earth, allowing them to be found by anyone.
When fae began to uncover them, a war broke out between the fae races and gods. The Fomóire were on neither side but attracted to the war due to the treasures. They became such a threat to both gods and fae that the two groups banded together during the Great Conquest to battle the Fomóire and banish them back to the sea. What was done with Dagda’s treasures after the war was murky. Legends were crafted to explain where they rested with one suggesting the treasures were hidden on earth again.
Was the legend true? Were the treasures still on earth and attracting the attention of Fomóire?
A scrape of chair legs and a soft thud caught Saoirse’s attention, and she turned to Emrys to find Cyprian’s large hand clamped onto his shoulder. Emrys’s jaw was set and his arm muscles twitched against his physical and self-restraints.
“Emrys,” his father warned.
“Do you have a comment, Emrys?” Kieran asked, his snake-like smile making Saoirse’s skin crawl. There was a gleam of mischief in his eyes, and she had a very bad feeling about his intentions with this information.
“It is troublesome that Kieran has been alerted to this matter before you, Vasili,” Alastair commented, his tone shifting from warning to concern.
“I promise you, Alastair, I am given notice of every matter that happens on my lands,” Vasili said. “I have not heard a single word about this sighting.”
“Regardless of whether you knew of it or not, you need to act, Vasili.” Kieran’s finger circled the face of his pocket watch again as he spoke. “We know what Fomóire can be capable of. Bloodshed could be imminent. We have a unit that can be deployed immediately to defend against the Fomóire, so no harm comes to our population.”
“Hold on,” Vasili said, putting a hand up. “I need to investigate this further. If I truly have missed this information, I need to find out why.”
“There isn’t time to investigate,” Kieran pushed. “What if more than just a sighting happens while you’re knee deep in paperwork, trying to puzzle out who failed their duties to you, and a life is lost? I think the people of Donheath will be more upset at that than a few soldiers present around the borders.”
Saoirse looked to Alastair, who looked restrained. His jaw worked as if he wanted to say something, but his mouth never opened. It was curious that he wouldn’t step in to reel Kieran in, even if he did favor the general the most.
“No,” Vasili said, the firmness in his tone wavering. “I need to—”
“You need to act, Vasili!” Kieran’s fist hit the table, filling the room with a resounding thump.
“Enough, Kieran,” Laszlo said sternly, jumping to his peer’s defense. “You may have military expertise, but you have no authority to demand anything from us. Vasili knows what is best for the people he has been entrusted with.”
“Yes, but—”
“The matter is settled, Kieran,” Cyprian chimed in. “You can suggest and advise, but you aren’t allowed to intimidate anyone. There are rules for how these meetings are to be conducted. I shouldn’t need to remind you of that as if you were a misbehaving child.”
Kieran slumped back in his seat and tucked his pocket watch back into his waistcoat. The comparison Cyprian had drawn between the general and a child that had been refused their wishes was plainly evident. Saoirse saw Alastair’s jaw relax and his demeanor shift. He let out a breath as if it had been held in his lungs against his will.
“I believe that matter is settled,” he said. “Let us move onto other business, shall we?” A few strange glances were exchanged between the dukes, but they obliged their king. They transitioned to topics such as agricultural contracts that were about to expire and a new expansion of the city center in Stoneblack that was coming along nicely. While the discussion of the Fomóire sighting at the start of the meeting was full of drama and tension, the rest of the meeting was quite dull.
Saoirse hated to admit it, but she was now grateful she hadn’t been forced to experience these types of meetings at her home estate. She imagined the ways she would have hid and excused herself from them if she had been expected to attend. Having sex with the visiting dignitaries was much more fun.
Alastair finally concluded the meeting and commented his appreciation for Saoirse’s appearance before excusing himself from the room. Kieran followed without a parting word to the rest of the court, and Saoirse let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.
“Saoirse, will you be joining us at our next council meeting?” Laszlo asked.
“Oh, I…” She trailed off, searching for a polite way to excuse herself from the next meeting.
“It’s alright,” Cyprian chimed in. “You can be honest with us. We understand the content of court meetings are quite dry. If it weren’t for them, Isolde would demand to join.”
“I’ll admit I did begin to lose interest once the topic shifted to contracts and construction,” Saoirse confessed.
The fireannaich chuckled at her admission.
“You aren’t obligated to attend these meetings,” Emrys said. His composure had relaxed since Kieran and his father left, and she was happy to see the sweeter side of his personality again.
“Am I obligated to attend these meetings?” Vasili asked, his feelings of defeat apparent on his face.
“Unless you think Calliope can manage the status of Northern English agriculture, yes, it is,” Cyprian answered.
The Duke of Donheath’s shoulders sagged, and Laszlo patted him on the shoulder in sympathy. “Kieran only thinks he can get under your skin because he doesn’t understand how important your role is in the court,” Laszlo told him. “I think you have the right idea investigating why you missed something so vital in your territory.”
“Would you do the same given my circumstances?” Vasili asked.
“Of course.” Laszlo nodded. “I would have slipped a bit more profanity into my argument, but I absolutely agree with your decision. It’s important to find the root of the issue so it doesn’t happen again.”
“Agreed,” Cyprian added.
Saoirse watched as confidence thrummed through Vasili again. He sat up a bit taller, and he looked much less defeated than a few moments ago.
The legs of Saoirse’s chair scraped the floor as she scooted back to rise to her feet. “Well, it has been absolutely lovely to meet all of you, and I hope to meet your better halves fairly soon.”
“Emrys, what if we brought them with us the next time we meet?” Laszlo asked.
“You really want to watch just how chaotic this room can get with Andromeda added to the mix, don’t you?” Cyprian asked.
“No, no,” Laszlo said, waving his hand to dismiss the notion. “I meant so they can mingle with Saoirse while we have our meetings.”
“That sounds excellent,” Saoirse said with a wide grin.
“I agree. I like the idea.” Vasili nodded. “The ride to Fearynhurst and back can get lonely.”
“Well, if that’s your reasoning…” Cyprian gave a knowing look and Vasili’s complexion flushed. Emrys jabbed the Duke of Stoneblack with an elbow.
“I wish I had something small enough to throw at you,” Vasili said.
“A bit of your magic is always an alternative.” Laszlo suggested. “A blast of air can reach that far, can’t it?”
Emrys snickered.
“No, no.” Vasili shook his head. “I promised Calliope I would use my magic for productive things.”
“I didn’t,” Emrys said, placing two fingers behind Cyprian’s ear.
He yelped and smacked at the prince’s arm, complaining of the cold touch. The dukes erupted into more laughter, and Saoirse giggled with them. The way Emrys and the dukes acted reminded her of her brothers. Eamon was always a poor sport, but her two other brothers never missed an opportunity to tease and mock each other.
Saoirse gracefully rose from her seat and slipped her hand from Emrys’s. She immediately missed the assurance it gave her.
“Emrys, be careful. You’re driving your bride away with your childish antics,” Vasili said with a cheeky grin.
“No,” Saoirse said, giggling and shaking her head. “I would love nothing more than to stay and learn what other ways you three can come up with to torment Cyprian, but I have an appointment for a dress fitting.”
“Well, then we look forward to seeing you again at the wedding,” Laszlo said. “And I must warn you not to let Andromeda talk you into any strange herbs or furniture arranging that help fertility. I swear that boireann is going to turn our house upside down before we have a child.”
“I’ll try not to.” She couldn’t help but grin as she left the council room. There was something new and warm that ran through her blood as she walked through the house. It felt as if daylight was cracking through a gray afternoon, and she was discovering what the sun felt like on her skin for the first time. Her magic tingled in her palms, but it didn’t manifest any further. She felt like her magic was communicating to her that it liked this feeling, this feeling of happiness.
Friends.
She had friends—at least she would if she ultimately chose to stay. The urge to stay had never felt so strong. Weighing her two options, staying came with more rewards. She would have Emrys, the dukes, and a household that genuinely cared for her. Leaving and living on her own would give her the ultimate taste of freedom, but she would be alone, more alone than when she was in her family’s estate.
