“Charlotte?” His tone was soft. She spun to face him.
“Don't you ever do that to me again,” she snapped, snatching up her bag from the foot of the bed and stormed into the bathroom.
Standing at the vanity she found on the near wall, she dug through her bag for her brush.
“Charlotte, I don't know what I've done,” he said calmly from behind her.
She glared at him through the mirror. “You were rude to Dane, he was only making conversation. You left me in that chamber alone. Have you any idea how intimidating that was? That someone bothered to speak to me at all was a relief and you came huffing over, ego spilling from you like some, some…” She couldn't finish. “What was that? Jealousy?” she demanded.
He opened his mouth to speak but she threw up a hand. “Then, after all that, you sat there and said nothing as he suggested throwing Zander to the lions! You were damn quiet then, Callan! And you had the gall to try and stop me when I slapped him down!”
Shaking with anger, she slammed her brush down and stormed into the bedroom, pushing past him.
He followed her but didn't speak as she threw herself onto the bed. Ignoring him, she rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. He leaned on the bathroom door frame and watched her carefully.
As the anger ebbed she remembered what she'd been told.
When it comes to me he'll puff up his chest.
Yeah, well he can get that under control, this isn't about him and his ego!
They stayed like that for a while, neither saying a word, Charlotte deep in thought, Callan waiting patiently for her to calm down.
“Is it safe?” he asked thickly.
She considered snapping something nasty but thought better of it. “Yes. Don't do that to me again. You don't say who I get to talk to. Keep a lid on it.”
He sat beside her. “Sorry,” he muttered, “I couldn't stop it”
“Well learn,” she laughed under her breath.
He pulled her into his arms. “I'll try, I promise.” He leaned in and kissed her deeply, his sharp teeth nipping her bottom lip. “There's a ball this evening,” he muttered between kisses, “We need to get you a gown.”
She pulled back, wide eyed. “A gown? I don't wear gowns.”
“Yes, you do. Enya will be down there already being fitted for hers. Zander is at the tailor with Dagda.”
Chapter 14
He didn't warn her he just, popped. It seemed to take less time but the feeling of being unable to breathe was still terrifying.
They emerged in a boutique. Gowns hung from rails everywhere she looked, chaise lounge were positioned around the floor space and huge gilt mirrors hung on the walls. Shoes of every colour, style and size were displayed in ornate cases around the room.
I've never been in a shop like this in my life.
“I can't wear any of this,” she whispered to Callan as she took in the display cases and mirrors around her.
“They're very good, Alayna uses them all the time. They'll have something that suits your taste,” he assured her, brushing a gentle kiss across her lips.
“Mummy, Daddy!” Enya came rushing to her in a midnight blue gown. The bodice was encrusted with blue gemstones. From the waist, it puffed out in layer up on layer of tulle that fell just below her knee displaying matching gem encrusted pumps.
“Isn't it pretty mummy? Look, it has sparkles!” she said, turning to show off every angle of the dress, layers fanning out, her curls flying.
“It is! Is that the dress you've chosen?” she asked, kneeling to pull the spinning ball of tulle in for a hug. “How's your morning been?”
“Blair showed me how to make bubbles! Then he showed me how to stop things hitting me,” she said giggled. “Tomorrow I'm firing arrows.”
This doesn't sound much like learning to control the magic. This sounds like using it.
I don't want her using water arrows.
“Wow, sounds like fun!” She kissed her cheek and stood up. “Where's Aunty Alayna?”
Alayna stuck her head out from behind a dressing room door and said, “I'm just changing. We're all done. Talk to Mhairie, she'll help you find something. I'll take Enya back, we're all invited to lunch with our parents. We'll meet you there.”
Callan kissed her cheek, “I'll be back soon. I have to collect my suit.”
When Alayna and Enya had gone, she looked around the room with no idea where to start. Thankfully Mhairie knew exactly what she needed and she was out of there in less than an hour.
Apparently, there was a family account that everything Mhairie had chosen for her was charged to. She left the boutique feeling embarrassed despite her not having any idea of her gown and shoes cost.
Their party, their dress code, their problem, I suppose.
Leaving the boutique, she looked around her as the door clicked closed. She was in a narrow, cobbled street. The boutique stores on either side were set into little arched alcoves. The walls of the surrounding buildings were whitewashed, planters overflowing with bright flowers lined the walkways.
Looking ahead, she was relieved to see Callan walking towards her with a bag of his own.
“See, I told you they'd have something,” he said smiling as he took her bags. “Now, lunch with the family.”
Yay, meeting the parents. Everyone loves that bit!
“Can't wait,” she groaned.
“You'll love my mother. My father's very different away from work. Honestly, you'll be fine,” he assured her as they made their way through the city.
The buildings were small and close together, the streets narrow. Every person they passed smiled and greeted Callan warmly. They all addressed him by just his first name. “Do they all know who you are?” she asked after it had happened several times.
“Of course, after this many years, it's hard not to have met everyone in the city at least once.”
“And just how many years is that?” she asked tentatively.
Callan stopped and studied her for a moment. “You really want to know?”
She looked up and smiled as his hair fell over one eye. “You know my age. It's only fair,” she laughed.
“I'm just over two thousand years old, my birthday is May the twenty second,” he smirked.
“Spring baby,” she smiled and carried on walking. Glancing over her shoulder she said, “You're the ultimate sugar daddy, aren't you? Or is it borderline necrophilia?”
He ran at her, sweeping her into his arms, bags crumpling. She screamed, laughing as he growled into her neck. She was sure it was a punishment as she suddenly couldn't breathe and the silent winds whipped at her again. As her stomach turned she realised they had popped up in the bedroom she had used earlier. Setting her down, Callan threw the bags on the bed.
“I really hate that,” he complained.
“Then you should watch your mouth,” he chuckled.
“I actually wanted to see the city. The small part I saw was beautiful.” She checked the time, and said, “I don't suppose there was time though. I'd better shower.”
He grasped her hand and pulled her to him as he sat on the edge of the bed, placing his hands on her waist. “The meeting this morning. Are you comfortable with what my father proposed? With staying here, to keep the children safe? To train them?” His eyes flicked over her face, reading her reaction.
Am I? I've spent years on my own, I'm used to that, but I'll have some company here. People who could eventually become friends. But, they'll always be Callan's friends first. The kids seem happy here. They're entranced with the magic of the place, the people. Plus, they're safer here, with a whole family to support them.
She sighed and said, “I miss work. I miss Ferne. You know, the normal stuff that kept me sane.” Guilt pricked at her as she admitted it. “Other than that, I'm perfectly happy here, or back on the island, with you and them.”
“Why don't you have a couple of nights there, see Ferne, pick-up anything you want for the house and leave the children w
ith me?” he suggested. “I can take you down there, collect you when you're ready. Enya and Zander will be fine and if they miss you too much I can get them to you in seconds.”
It was tempting but she'd never had a night away from them before.
Would the kids be okay? I do miss Ferne.
“I'll see when she's free,” she said after a moment pause.
Callan grinned up at her, “I'll run you a bath, you can call her. Use the phone on the side there, mobiles don't get reception here.”
That's a point, where exactly are we?
“Where is here?” she called into the bathroom.
“Between,” Callan laughed.
Because that answers the question.
Tapping out the number she crossed her legs on the bed. It rang and rang but Ferne didn't answer. She checked the time.
She must have an extra shift at work.
Leaving a brief message, she joined Callan in the bathroom. He was swirling the water with one hand, a small bottle of oil in the other.
“What's that?” she asked, breathing in the aroma. The scent of the oil he'd poured in the water was heady but she was already relaxing as it worked its magic.
“Coconut, chamomile and a few herbs. It'll help you relax. It's been a long, busy morning. You soak, I'll go and check on the children. We have a while yet so take your time.”
She pulled her hair into a messy bun as he dried his hands.
Sinking into the hot water she groaned. It had been a long morning. Meetings, arguments, shopping trips and it was only one o'clock.
Where's Ferne? She always answers her mobile, even at work.
Closing her eyes, she ran through everything that had been said at the council meeting.
It wasn't as they first thought. Her father was going after the power that Dane protected. The earth shielding the portal needed reinforced protections and the only one able to do that was her baby boy. That made him a target.
What if my father made it to the site? Would Zander have to shield the place? Could the rest of the fae stop him?
Where is the portal to the other world anyway?
She scrubbed herself.
Time to get ready.
Reluctantly, she hauled herself out the still hot water. Wrapped in a fluffy towel she examined herself in the huge vanity mirror.
Had better make this look something like, you've looked like shit since you left home.
She dried her hair and applied a small amount of make-up.
How long is it now? On Arran for five days? Who lets stuff move that quickly?
Oh, you'll do…
This isn't normal, though is it? A month ago, this all belonged in a book on Enya's shelf.
Back in the bedroom she dug through her bag looking for something suitable to wear. Nothing was. It was so warm here, like it was the middle of July, not creeping toward the end of October.
Settling for a tunic and leggings again she dressed and brushed out her hair, pulling it into a loose ponytail then made her way into the lounge.
Zander and Enya smiled from the table at the back of the room when they saw her. They were colouring in picture books with pencils.
She hadn't seen much of them this week, it felt like they'd been apart for days,
Sitting at the table with them, she asked, “Are you ready to meet your grandparents?”
“Yeah,” Zander sounded indifferent.
Enya beamed, “Lucy has a grandma and she sees her all the time, I've always wanted one.”
Her chest tightened.
Callan came over and announced it was time to go.
Giving them a quick look over she took each of their hands and they followed him down the staircase to the marble main hall.
They didn't have far to walk. It seemed all the living quarters were close together. The doors to the suite were silver. Actual silver. A picture was engraved into the soft, gleaming metal. Charlotte quickly scanned the scene, a moonlit lake with swans gliding by, a forest in the background showed a fawn peeking between the trees. She didn't have chance to study it further as they swung open.
Her stomach knotted again. She checked Zander, he seemed perfectly at ease. Enya was fidgeting, clearly excited. She dropped their hands and asked, “Okay?” Both nodded.
The suite was a similar size to the one she was using. The main living area had large plush fabric sofas around a black marble coffee table. The matching dining table ran along the left wall of the room laden with food and drinks. French doors dominated the back wall of the room, framed by cream drapes. The doors were open, a patio visible beyond them.
She could hear Dagda outside.
“Ma?” Callan called.
Ma?
Looking down at her, he smiled broadly leaning to her. “They don't like formalities here. She's our Ma. This is her home, we're a family and this is a place we can relax.”
They came through the patio doors hand in hand. Having already met the king she knew who she was looking for. He looked more relaxed now, he'd changed into a light, loose top and linen trousers, his hair tied back, the crown gone. His pale blue eyes were soft and friendly. Releasing his wife's hand, he strode towards her and kissed her cheek. “Welcome to our home, I'm Taran,” he swept an arm back and turned to the queen, his eyes twinkling, “this is my wife, Caoimhe.”
She was beautiful. Zander and Enya were little copies of her.
No wonder he knew who Enya was straight away.
Her deep copper hair hung in ringlets around her face. Her skin was ivory, smooth, and perfect, cheeks slightly pink and freckled. She had their deep emerald eyes that shone as they met hers. Charlotte couldn't tear hers away.
“Charlotte! Oh, it's lovely to finally meet you. Please, please make yourself at home.” Her pearly white teeth glittered as she smiled, her full lips spreading in a perfect smile. Grasping her hands for a moment she studied her face then turned to the children and crouched. Enya ran to her open arms immediately. “Hello my princess. You're beautiful, perfect!” she murmured.
Zander walked over and smiled, “Hello Nana.”
Nana?
The queen took him into her arms and choked, “Hello my handsome Prince, I'm so happy you're here.” Her emerald eyes brimmed as she looked up at Charlotte and wrinkled her freckled nose.
Taran clapped Callan on the shoulder and addressed them both, “Come out onto the patio. Help yourselves to drinks. Alayna and Dagda are here already.”
Charlotte looked down at her children and their new-found grandmother and smiled. Tears pricked her eyes as she watched them with her.
Mum would have loved them like that.
Shaking the thought, she cleared her throat, “You two okay? I'm just going to talk to Uncle Dagda and Aunty Alayna.”
“Yes,” they sang in unison.
She walked to the table and picked up a glass of sparkling wine. It was light and sweet.
You really need to drink less.
The patio overlooked the gardens. Perfectly groomed lawns edged with tall hedges stretched out as far as she could see. The sun was bright and hot. She was overdressed for the weather.
Dagda greeted her with a warm hug. “Did you sort him?” he asked, smirking.
She flashed him a smile and said, “Of course.” He nudged her and went inside. Callan took his place at her side and said quietly, “I told you they'd love you. And the children. Ma's smitten. She's always wanted grandchildren.”
She looked around to see Taran had gone inside and could hear the chatter of the children. Even Zander was nattering, which was unusual for him with strangers.
They aren't strangers, they're his family.
Is it just pleasantries? What do they think of their prince tying himself to…me?
Callan moved to stand behind her. Resting his chin on her shoulder he snaked a hand around her waist. “Relax. You're family now.”
She leaned her head back, “But I'm not like you. I'm not…” she whispered.
�
�You're the woman I love. That's all that matters,” he whispered. She turned her head and kissed his cheek. His arm tightened around her. “Stop over thinking it,” he said against her lips as he kissed her briefly.
“Charlotte I have a gift for you,” Caoimhe announced as they sat on the patio sofa after they had all eaten. “Please come with me.”
Charlotte blanched and followed quietly into the bedroom.
Mirrored furniture bounced the light everywhere. The room was decorated in a deep plum and cream. There was a small, white leather sofa in one corner of the room and Caoimhe invited her to sit.
“I've been waiting for such a long time to have someone to pass this on to,” she explained as she opened a drawer by the bedside, “Taran's mother gave it to me when we were engaged. Now it's my turn to pass it along. I know you aren't engaged, but, you've given us such wonderful grandchildren and now Callan has you back, you're an important member of the family.”
She didn't know what to say. She felt like an impostor, not a family member.
Closing the draw, Caoimhe took a few elegant steps and sat beside her, a small carved wooden box in her slender hands. There was a tiny key sitting in a delicate lock on the front. The metal working of the lock ground and snapped as she turned it and gently opened the lid. Charlotte was uncomfortable. She wasn't used to receiving gifts but knew anything that was so carefully boxed would be something special.
Inside the box was a black silk bag. Caoimhe gently tipped it up and a delicate chain slid into her palm.
“It's jet,” she explained, holding the pendant up for her to see. “For protection. I want you to always be safe.”
She offered the tiny orb of black stone to her. Perfectly round it glinted slightly with tiny diamonds inset that looked like stars in a black sky. It sat within a platinum frame, attached to a platinum chain.
“Caoimhe I can't…”
“I insist. You're my daughter in-law and this is passed along in each generation, to the first we're blessed with. It belonged to you years ago, you just weren't able to receive it.” Reaching to take it back, she smiled softly.
Riftkeepers: Prime Page 11