A Court of Faerie

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A Court of Faerie Page 8

by Sarina Dorie


  “He wants General Hereweald with me.” He gave Errol a knowing look. “That old curmudgeon will tell Father everything.”

  Errol had never trusted the general. He nodded, seeing the predicament.

  “It has been working quite well for everyone who should see my child to just assume he’s yours,” Prince Elric-Atherius said. “It’s a perfect subterfuge.”

  Errol did his best to keep the lackluster from his reply. “Indeed, Your Highness.”

  “Do you not think so?”

  “Of course, Your Highness.” He forced himself to breathe calmly and not to show he was vexed with the prince’s indifference. “I’m happy to let you use my room and reputation for whatever you wish.”

  “But you aren’t really happy, are you?” Prince Elric-Atherius fidgeted in his chair. “I haven’t properly recompensed you for these favors, have I? I should do something for you in return.”

  “I am simply performing my duty. No recompense is necessary.” Though Errol wished the prince were intelligent enough not to risk the safety of his son and lover in this way. That would have been recompense enough.

  “How much would be an adequate amount to pay you for your troubles?” Prince Elric-Atherius reached into the coin purse at his belt. He set several gold coins on the desk.

  “Please, Your Highness. I would rather you didn’t give me such gifts. I have no need for such excess.” Taking gold felt like too much of a bribe.

  “It might be useful someday, if not now. You might want to start a family.” The prince nudged it forward.

  “I am married to my career.”

  Prince Elric-Atherius chuckled. “Right you are, but I expect that will eventually change.”

  Errol left his seat, scooped up the coins and held them out to the prince. “Please remove these from my desk before someone walks in and gets the wrong idea. They will assume you are paying me to perform licentious tasks on your behalf.”

  “It wouldn’t be that far off.” Prince Elric-Atherius took the money. “Oh, I know! I could buy you nicer furnishings for your room. A bigger bed, perhaps. That way, when my family come to visit, they will be more comfortable when they are there, and you have nicer things the rest of the time.”

  Errol reminded himself those words weren’t meant as an insult. The prince was simply too dense and superior to see that not everyone needed to live with the decadence of the elite. “I can understand the pragmatism of wanting guests to be comfortable, but I would prefer my room to remain my own, as inconvenient as that might be for others.”

  Errol imagined Ivy’s expression seeing his room redecorated. That was his first thought, which he quickly pushed aside. His second was what anyone else should think if they saw a sudden change in his simple tastes. “I believe redecorating is a worse suggestion than offering me money, as it will be a more noticeable change to anyone who enters.”

  The prince’s silver eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I thought you had no romantic interests of late? Who would even see your room?”

  Errol supposed he should have come clean about Ivy already. “There is a maid to whom I bring my mending. She occasionally drops in to return my attire once it is fixed. Sometimes she brings me . . . biscuits.” Errol hated to admit so much about his personal life. He feared the prince might think Ivy did this out of a romantic interest rather than the debt she felt she owed him.

  The prince’s eyebrows lifted in question.

  Errol rushed on. “We aren’t intimately involved if that’s what you’re thinking. She only brought me biscuits to be nice. She thinks she owes me a favor. The first time I brought your son to my room to rest, I hadn’t thought to ward my room, and she came in. The other time, Sergeant Norris was guarding the outside. Norris sent her away, but the maid asked about your mistress. Norris said she was my lady friend, and now this maid thinks your child is mine.” He barely managed to keep the disdain from his tone.

  Errol could turn a blind eye to the prince’s infidelity, but the prince was imposing on his reputation. Other officers would think Errol was a womanizer with maids bringing him biscuits and a secret mistress sneaking in at other times.

  Prince Elric-Atherius’ lips twitched, and it looked as though he were trying not to laugh. “Oh, I see the problem. This maid stopped bringing you biscuits on account of me. I must warn you, Captain Errol, I have experience with maids and their methods of seduction. First it’s biscuits, then it’s kissing. The next thing you know, you’ll be engaged. As a man married to your career, I’m doing you a favor, really.”

  “Please do not patronize me, Your Highness.”

  “I’m not!” Prince Elric-Atherius attempted to keep his expression serious but failed.

  Errol crossed his arms. “I was more concerned that she might repeat what she saw.”

  The prince’s eyes shifted from the same violet of Errol’s to yellow, twinkling in delight. “Out of spite because she thinks you’ve spurned her advances? Or in this case, biscuits.”

  Errol ignored the amusement in the prince’s tone. “I already told you, it isn’t like that. She’s the young lady the Raven Court sent us—me. She feels obligated to do something to repay her debt to me. She found Alma’s recipe for my favorite biscuits, and she made them on two separate occasions.”

  “This is Ivy, then?” Prince Elric-Atherius’ expression sobered. “Of course she would feel obligated. She feels you rescued her from her other life.”

  “I wish I could do more for her.” The words flowed out of Errol. Now that he’d begun to confide in someone, he couldn’t stop. “She looks terrified every time I speak with her. I’ve startled her more times than I care to admit. I think that’s why she brings me gifts and leaves them—usually when I’m not here. She might feel obligated, but she doesn’t actually wish to speak with me.” He remembered that magenta curl at the nape of her neck and how soft it had looked. Something about that lock of hair reminded him of a flower blossom in the spring.

  Her personality was like that curl, a shy little flower, uncertain whether winter was over and it was safe to bloom.

  “She might with time. People move at different paces.” Prince Elric-Atherius scooted to the edge of his chair. “Why this girl? What is it about her that makes you so concerned that she might not speak with you?”

  Errol recited the reason he always told himself. “She is my charge. My responsibility. I want to ensure she succeeds in her new life.” Of course, it was so much more. “It isn’t just her. There are others I would like to help. I just don’t know how. I’m powerless to prevent atrocities happening far away in the Raven Court. But Ivy is right here. I can do something for her.”

  Prince Elric-Atherius nodded. “I understand. I, too, wish I could do more.”

  Errol wanted to laugh at that. “But you can.” Errol’s voice rose with conviction. “You’re rich. You have power. You are an influential leader who is able to use that as a means to help others.”

  “Less so than you might think.”

  Errol doubted that. “You might not be able to persuade your brothers and sisters to behave, but that doesn’t mean you can’t influence lesser nobles. The Morty Realm out there is experiencing a reformation in their church. They’ve already experienced a change in their arts and sciences in the Renaissance.”

  “I didn’t know you knew anything about the Morty Realm.” The prince’s eyes widened.

  “I go to the Morty Realm more than you do. Who do you think abducts Morty artists for the entertainment of the Silver Court?” No one restricted Errol’s activities in other realms. He supposed that was one advantage of being a commoner. With his military training, he had advanced skills in transportation, glamours, and enchantments. He could have left the Faerie Realm if he had wanted to.

  “Oh, yes. I forget about that. I suppose it’s something I’ll have to consider. I wouldn’t mind being the muse of another Renaissance.” Prince Elric-Atherius grinned. “In any case, as far as t
he matter of the maid and your biscuits are concerned, I will have to figure out how to make things right for you.”

  Errol glowered. He suspected the prince took perverse pleasure in rubbing in the topic of biscuits. “As I said before, it was never the lack of biscuits that was the problem. I was simply concerned that Ivy might find it suspicious if my accommodations suddenly became more luxurious. Or that she would repeat what she had seen.”

  “Fear not on my behalf. If this young lady feels as though she owes you, she isn’t going to repeat that she saw a child or a suspected lover in your rooms. I imagine she is so indebted to your charity that she would do anything you ask, including keeping silent about this favor you have performed on someone else’s behalf. I am so confident in this, that I’d wager you could even go so far as to explain the entirety of the situation without risking my family.”

  Errol shook his head, about to interrupt. The prince might have meant well, but he was reckless and idealistic. There was a good reason his father didn’t like him going to the village without a large escort. His blind optimism would be his undoing.

  Just as it had been Steorra’s.

  Errol pushed away the thought. Prince Elric-Atherius was like a blundering puppy, too eager as he wagged his tail to realize the damage he caused. Errol had to intervene. It was his duty to protect the royal family. He wouldn’t fail this time.

  Prince Elric-Atherius held up a finger to stop Errol from speaking. “Furthermore, I will seek to remedy your reputation with the young lady in question.”

  “That’s quite all right. You needn’t bother yourself on my behalf.” Errol had no idea what the prince might do to try to “help” him. “Let me worry about my own reputation. You would do better with your time by preventing the Silver Court from growing suspicious of your whereabouts while you are here.”

  Prince Elric-Atherius raked a hand through his silver hair. “If you will not permit me to give you gold or newer furnishings—or rescue you from being an unmarried man for the rest of your days, then I shall have to grant you a different favor.”

  Errol kept his voice firm so that the prince wouldn’t think he was being humble. “I do not like unspecified favors granted by the noble class, which I did not ask for in the first place.”

  “Has anyone in my family ever given you a gift you didn’t like?”

  Errol unglamoured his wings. As he did so, the full weight of them drew his shoulders back. He spread them out, though he could barely do so in the span of his office.

  “Oh, I see.” The prince’s eyes flickered over the white feathers with admiration. “I thought they were rather nice, but I understand. You didn’t ask for them.”

  “I would rather that day had never happened.” The honor of those wings for his heroic deeds in war had been shadowed with Semmy’s death and punishment moments later for displeasing the queen. The event or reward and punishment were so intertwined they were difficult to separate.

  “I see.” Prince Elric-Atherius nodded gravely. “Perhaps a favor of your choosing. There’s no need to decide on that today.”

  Not two seconds had passed when the door to Errol’s office burst open, and Princess Quenylda stood there. Her gown was made from iridescent butterfly wings, shifting from white to pale blue as they opened and closed. Her long tresses were piled on top of her head to form a mountain of curls under a hat that resembled a halo from an early medieval painting. Lethal spikes emerged from the gold headdress, resembling rays of the sun. One of the spikes dripped with blood.

  Errol stood and bowed.

  Quenylda locked eyes on her husband. “What are you doing here?”

  This was exactly who he feared might stumble upon the prince during one of his visits in the barracks. They were fortunate Ned and Meredith weren’t there that day.

  “Hello, darling, I do apologize if my absence gave you reason to be concerned.” Prince Elric-Atherius became the embodiment of simpering smiles and foolish ignorance. “As you can see, I was simply in conference with Captain Errol of the royal guard. Have you been introduced? I don’t think you have.”

  Quenylda ignored Errol. “The servants reported you as missing.”

  “Is that so?” Prince Elric-Atherius composed his face into an expression of surprise. “I’m here and accounted for. Isn’t that the case, Captain? I’ve been here with you.”

  “Indeed, Your Highness,” Errol said, wishing he could have been anywhere else at the moment. “You’ve been here the entire time with me.”

  Quenylda looked Errol up and down before returning her cool gaze to her husband. “What could you possibly have to discuss with this soldier?” She spat out the word as though it were an insult.

  “Manly things.” Prince Elric-Atherius laughed nervously. “War and weapons.”

  Errol bowed again, attempting to draw attention away from the prince. “If Your Highness would permit me to explain. We were in conversation about business regarding the Raven Court.” There was a logical reason he could use for the prince’s attendance. “A few months ago, there was an incident in the capital. A group of rogue Fae—”

  Quenylda put up her hand. Errol’s voice immediately cut out. Her magic was a vise around his throat, making it difficult to breathe. Speaking was out of the question.

  “If all you were doing was conversing about war and our enemies, why was this office warded?” She glared at her husband. “It is enchanted with soundproofing. This entire filthy area is protected with enchantments to conceal you. I only found you through the process of elimination. Do you know how many offices I had to burst into—how many sweaty, disgusting Witchkin I had to encounter—before someone directed me here?”

  Errol tried to speak, but he only managed to cough.

  “I imagine all these wards and such are merely standard procedures,” Prince Elric-Atherius said. “In any case, you are right. It is far too filthy for such a fine dress as yours. You shouldn’t have come on account of me. Let us go back to the castle where you can be pampered as you deserve.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and guided her out.

  Quenylda’s outburst didn’t bode well.

  Errol had realized long ago that Quenylda was one of the worst villains at court. It wasn’t just Prince Elric-Atherius’ wife and child that needed protecting, but the prince as well.

  Errol suspected he would have to take drastic measures to ensure the prince’s safety. At last, he had an idea of how he would accomplish this.

  Errol had a plan. If he played his cards right, he would be able to get the king’s blessing to do it too. And he would be able to satisfy the ache for vengeance in his heart.

  CHAPTER TEN

  A Rebel with a Cause

  While Errol waited for Prince Elric-Atherius to call upon him again, he planned the exact wording he intended to use to ask the prince to repay the favor he had promised.

  In Fae bargains, word choice could be a matter of life or death.

  After much deliberation, Errol had finally realized what he needed to be able to find out more about his sister’s death. He required a royal person with him in an official capacity who could sanction Errol’s investigations so that his actions would be seen as valid—rather than that of a nosy soldier exposing a king who was doing nothing to protect his people.

  That was what Errol needed.

  What the prince wanted was to be able to see his mistress and child. Errol no longer deemed the barracks a safe place for Prince Elric-Atherius to meet with his mistress and child now that the sanctity had been invaded by Quenylda.

  Errol could use this to his advantage.

  When Prince Elric-Atherius called on Errol to guard him in his parlor with a Dutch painter present, Errol remained unglamoured. He ensured privacy with a sound-barrier spell and bade his junior officer patrol outside until Errol called upon him.

  As the prince posed for the painter in white robes, seated on props of hay covered in woolen blankets, Errol s
tepped forward. “Your Highness, might I impose upon you to speak about the matter we were discussing the other day before Princess Quenylda burst into my office?”

  “Of course. I should like to hear any new plans you have for ensuring my guest’s safety.” Prince Elric-Atherius fluffed his hair and resumed holding his pose with one hand lifted as if in speech.

  The prince glowed with inspiration, which the artist seemed to lap up, and it in turn fueled his painting. Excess creativity drifted out of the Morty artist, tingling against Errol’s exposed flesh.

  “Indeed, but first there is another matter for us to settle.” Errol tried to wet his lips, but his mouth was dry. If he succeeded, this would solve his need for vengeance. “You have promised you intend to repay me for the numerous requests you put upon me.”

  The prince smiled pleasantly. “I did say that, didn’t I? Are you ready to accept gold, or do you wish for something else as payment?”

  Errol drew in a deep breath. “I would like you to help me fix a wrong that has been committed.”

  “Of course. I would do anything to help you.” Prince Elric-Atherius lowered his voice. “Is it something General Hereweald has done? I’ve never liked him much anyway.”

  The painter huffed and muttered under his breath in Dutch. Errol supposed the prince was moving too much to make a good model.

  “No. It is the Raven Court,” Errol said, each word coming out sharp and biting. “I petitioned your father to assist me so that I could seek retribution. Yet Queen Morgaine permitted her subjects to murder my sister without consequence. Alma’s attackers are still loose. Justice has not been served.”

  The prince looked like he was about to object.

  Errol was unable to contain the heat in his voice. “Don’t tell me you think a kitchen maid is equal payment for the vengeance that is rightfully mine.”

  “No, I suppose not,” the prince reluctantly agreed.

 

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