“They became more or less permanent just a week ago,” I tell her. “I had to . . . tap into my dark powers at Castle Vale. Sort of why I’m here.”
Daelera hums. “Well, I don’t know all the details, but I can say you’re lucky. I’ve been in the castle for three hundred years—born here, in fact—and I’ve never heard of anyone being chosen by the Sun Crystal. And for Kaelen . . . ooh.”
“Kaelen . . . you mean the emperor?”
“Aye, but you know how we talk about our betters behind their backs,” Daelera confirms. “Apologies if I offended you, Lady Carter.”
“Only way you can offend me is to keep calling me Lady Carter,” I reply, relaxing more. “The name’s Eve, as much as possible. I’m no noble.”
“Eve . . . I like that. Well then, Eve, while I get a week’s worth of road grime off this body of yours, how about you tell me about yourself?”
We take our time, Daelera not missing a single inch of my skin with her cloth. With every stroke, it does relax me even as my skin tingles with a hint of arousal that’s unavoidable, considering how crazy my hormones seem to have become since I entered the Fae realm. To help, I lean back against the edge of the pool, just talking. It’s been too long since I had a chance for girl-talk and gossip. For all her guidance, mentoring, and the bond we developed, Lorelai isn’t the kind of person who enjoys gossip.
“So, what’s got you so interested in my hometown, anyway?” I ask after Daelera asks me about my favorite human foods and restaurants. “You’ve never been there, have you?”
“No, just a quick month-long trip about a hundred years ago,” Daelera admits. “But it wasn’t a very good vacation.”
“Why’s that?” I ask, and Daelera chuckles.
“Too many Nazis,” she replies. “Reminds me too much of the Lunarians.”
“What do you mean?” I ask as she starts washing my hair. “My Guardians are Lunarian.”
“No, they served in their Guard, if what I’ve heard is correct,” Daelera corrects me. “You’ll find gossip has a way of running the palace, but one’s a Northlander, another an Earthborn. But I don’t mean all Lunarians, just their royal court. Apologies. One time, I had to serve as body servant to Queen Cassina. Nowhere near as casual as you.”
“Thank you,” I reply honestly, laughing. “I don’t think I’m on Cassina’s Christmas card list either.”
“No, but be wary of her. This may be Kaelen’s court, but Cassina still wields a lot of influence through the Council. She’s a two-headed snake if there ever was one. And being her body servant . . . ugh. She did demand services that you say you don’t want, and let me tell you, she’s greedy, lousy in terms of reciprocation . . . it was a duty, not a pleasure.”
I chuckle, filing the little piece of information away and relishing the gossip. “And the emperor?”
“Aye, now Kaelen Lightwing . . . now there’s a man I’d enjoy being body servant for,” Daelera admits, desire in her voice. “Forgive me for sounding like a little girl, but he is the handsomest, most desirable Fae in the realm. Some say he burps rainbows and pisses sunbeams. To get a dose of his joy juice? I could die a happy woman after that.”
We finish up our bath, and after laying me down and giving me a relaxing massage that isn’t intended to arouse me but still has me thinking thoughts of Jacob and his magic fingers, Daelera starts on my hair. “This could take awhile, so tell me more. Do you have any more family?”
“A sister. She’s a handful, let me tell you,” I reply, telling her all about Alyssa and more about my life in Haven. By the time I’m done, my hair’s been styled and pinned up, and I gasp when I look in the mirror. “What’s this about?”
“To get dressed for dinner, of course,” Daelera says. “Did you think you’d get room service?”
I chuckle, shaking my head as I follow Daelera back into the main room. There she takes out a beautiful sundress that makes my breath catch again. “It’s gorgeous. Yellow’s not my normal color, but this is exquisite.”
“Come now, let’s get you dressed,” she says with a smile, tilting her head to the side. “Madam Bird says we don’t have much time. Apologies, but you’ll need to be, what did you say, commando? Your bags have not been cleaned and unpacked, but no fear, the dress is self-supporting.”
Daelera helps me, and it must be enchanted cloth because while the dress feels as light as cotton, when she finishes lacing me up, I have to admit the girls are nice and supported, high on my chest and making me look about a cup size bigger. “Whoa . . . forget Victoria. Looks like the Fae have the real secret.”
Daelera laughs, probably not getting the reference but understanding the meaning. “Aye, Kaelen will be very pleased with you.”
“Wait . . . Kaelen?” I ask, shocked. “What do you mean, pleased with me?”
Daelera tilts her head, giving me a quirky, amused smile. “Why, didn’t you know? You are his guest, after all.”
“Yeah, and?”
“And that means you have been given to him,” Daelera replies lightly. “To be given to Kaelen as his guest of honor? Aye, I am very jealous of you, indeed.”
Given to the emperor? Oh, shit.
How do I tell the absolute ruler of the entire Fae realm that regardless of how my body servant might feel about him, who is apparently widely regarded as sex on the throne and who comes from a race of people who see sex as normal as breathing, that I’m just not interested?
How do I tell him that my Guardians mean so much to me that I’m off limits to him?
And what do I do if he says he doesn’t care?
Chapter 6
Tyler
“You know, for Guardsmen, they certainly don’t know how to hold their drink,” Jacob whispers as he and Tyler creep along a corridor of the castle. “And they definitely didn’t know how to play cards.”
“You’re blaming them for not knowing what an Aberdeen clutch is?” Tyler whispers back. “You’ve got more ways to cheat at cards than some men have hair.”
“Which is why you won’t even play Clock N’ Bath with me,” Jacob snickers. “But it got us full bellies.”
They reach a junction in the corridor, stopping. Cole and Noah were still in the barracks in case anyone started to wonder where they were, which reduced their forces . . . but for missions like this, stealth is more important than force.
“We’re still risking at least the stocks if we get caught,” Tyler reminds them as they turn right. “Why are we not in Shifted form?”
“This place?” Jacob says with a snicker. “In case you haven’t noticed, my Padawan, but I have yet to see a mouse, a spider . . . I doubt even an ant would dare to fart in the House of The Rising Sun.”
“The . . . wha?” Tyler asks, and Jacob chuckles again. “Human?”
“Good tune,” Jacob murmurs. They sneak further, ducking into an alcove just as a serving girl comes by, and Tyler smirks to himself. Just a year ago, Jacob would not have been able to let the girl go by without some sort of lewd remark. Now Eve had changed him, in Tyler’s estimation, for the better.
Ahead, there is light coming from a large room, and Jacob holds up a hand. Pointing to the shadows on each side of the door, Tyler nods in understanding, and they slip into the spaces undetected. Looking through a crack in the door, they see what’s obviously a collection of nobles gathered, having dinner.
“It’s an outrage,” one of them, a corpulent Fae man with obviously permed ringlets in his hair in the style of the Southern Court, says. “For his perfumed princeship to ignore us! And for . . . for . . .”
“For a halfling?” a chilling voice from out of Tyler’s view says. He knows that voice, having heard it for centuries. Cassina. And she sounds at her most seductively charming, that mix of false cheer, feminine charm, all with an undercurrent of danger that makes her sound strong and tough to her allies, a prize to be conquered and worshipped by the men of her Guard and a deadly threat to her enemies. “And not even a normal halfling? The bitch s
hould be in a zoo, not in the imperial dining room.”
“It would not be this way if Jaeryn were still on the throne,” another noble says before taking a huge bite out of a leg of roasted beast. “I still say you should have challenged him, Cassina. With your brains and beauty, the Council would have sided with you.”
Cassina chuckles, sending a chill down Tyler’s spine. He’s heard that before, and while Eve might have fangs, it is Cassina whose voice drips venom now. “Willym, if you want to please me tonight, all you have to do is ask. You don’t have to kiss my ass . . . unless I want you to.”
Disgusting.
Hey, you’re the one teasing Eve about ass all the time.
Consider me ass-free from now on.
Tyler rolls his eyes silently, knowing his friend well. After five centuries and the Bond he’d developed with Eve, Jacob is a certified ass lover. It would be like telling Tyler he could never use his tongue on Eve’s body again. Sure, he might be able to resist for a night, even a week, perhaps. But to never have the sweet nectar of her juices running over his tongue? Impossible.
“Tell me, friend Willym,” Cassina says from inside the room, “what would you say if perhaps the Sun and Moon courts were to . . . change places?”
“While I would say that change is sometimes a good thing, you know it would take all the other Counselors to do so,” Willym points out. “There are those on the Council who are content with the young Lightwing.”
“Lightweight might have their loyalty for now, but all it takes is a push in the right direction to turn a pebble into a landslide,” Cassina points out. “The bitch killed my favorite Handmaiden. She’s quite a pebble.”
“I know how . . . fond you were of Lysette,” Willym remarks. “The last time I visited your court, she was your present to me.”
“I remember. She said you were remarkable.”
Willym laughs in that preening way Tyler knows vain men do when they get an undeserved compliment. “She was quite the beauty. Was she—”
“Yes. And I shall deprive the halfling bitch of her life for depriving me of Lysette’s services,” Cassina replies. “But more importantly, the realm needs a reminder.”
“Of what?” Willym ponders. “That an Empress could be just as powerful as an Emperor?”
Cassina laughs softly. “Hardly. No, that the Fae are not like those vermin in the human realm, that we remember a time when the throne remembered the way things ought to be. There are those who rule . . . and the rest of the people don’t really matter, do they?”
We served this evil bitch?
She’s got a good PR department, it seems. Listen.
“Hmm . . . while I detest that a halfling—half-demon—is a guest of the Crown and would gladly see her put to death, I’m not sure I would go that far, my dear Cassina.”
There’s a rustle in the other room and a hushed intake of breath. “I’m sure I have something that could convince you to see things my way, Willym? If you think Lysette knew how to use her tongue . . . I taught the girl everything she knew.”
Tyler glances over at Jacob, who nods. Wherever Eve is, she’s not in this particular wing of the castle, but more importantly, she’s not safe.
And perhaps, neither is Lightwing.
We need to talk with Cole. This is not one for the Link.
A soft sucking sound comes from the room, and Tyler shivers while Jacob laughs silently.
Just remember, she’s not Eve.
Good point. Now let’s move before I lose what little food we were able to get away with.
Chapter 7
Eve
My heart’s hammering in my chest, and if I had to measure, I’d say I was less worried going into my trial than I am now. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m wearing a sundress with nothing on underneath except for some Fae slippers, or maybe it’s that I don’t have my Guardians with me. I could really, really use Cole’s comforting strength or even a Jacob wisecrack right now.
Instead, I’m by myself, literally, in an opulent formal dining room. Somehow, while the charm and beauty hasn’t quite worn off, I can see how within a few days of being surrounded by rooms that would make the Louis XIV palace at Versailles look like the New Haven Burger King, I might yearn for something besides overwhelming white and gold.
On the other end of the long formal dining table is another place setting, but no person. I’m not sure what to do. Daelera just sort of dropped me off after seating me and putting a napkin in my lap, and I’ve never been someone who’s been big on formal dining anyway. What is the rule in this situation, anyway?
Suddenly, I hear powerful footsteps approaching, and the doors open to reveal Emperor Lightwing dressed in boots, what look like tight-fitting trousers like someone might wear for horseback riding, and an open Fae-style tunic that reveals his chiseled upper body.
“Emperor—”
“Please,” he says, waving his hand and making the doors close behind him, “I spend sixteen hours a day being called Emperor, Your Highness, Excellency, and every other formal fawning title under the sun. Pardon the pun.”
“And you’re a poet who doesn’t know it.” I snicker, wondering if Jacob’s rubbing off on me. Nah, that one’s more Tyler.
Lightwing stops, and his face lights up in a grin that takes him from just devastatingly handsome to yeah, the best-looking Fae I’ve ever seen. Maybe it’s a sign of the maturity of my bond with my Guardians that I can admit that Noah’s face is just a little too rugged and Tyler’s slightly too narrow across the shoulders when compared to this man. But still, I’m not attracted to him in any way. It’s like looking at a moving work of art or something. I don’t want to hump Michelangelo's David.
“I guess what I’m saying is, at least when we’re in private, could you please just call me Kaelen? That way, I can avoid calling you Miss Carter on a constant basis.”
I nod, smiling politely in return. “Of course, Kaelen. I’ll try to remember.”
“I’d appreciate that. What are you doing sitting down there, anyway?”
Kaelen’s moved to the far end of the table, and as he looks down the at least thirty-foot stretch of wood, he rolls his eyes. “Never mind. My staff made a few assumptions. Just a moment.”
He closes his eyes, and seconds later, three servants enter. “Excellency, it will be a few minutes while we . . . adjust the seating.”
“Thank you. I think that will give me a few moments to give my guest a tour of the throne room. It’s just down the hall. Eve, if you’d join me, please?”
It’s a request but not quite a request, and I do my best to get up gracefully from my chair and walk beside him as he leads me out the door and down a hallway. “Kaelen, you really didn’t—”
“Nonsense,” he replies, shaking his head. “You have no idea how tiresome it is to constantly eat, either worried that the people with you are thinking of using their knives for something besides cutting their meat, or just alone in that cavern of a room.”
“Why not eat in a more private setting?” I ask, and Kaelen stops, giving me an amused look. “What? You’re the freakin’ Emperor. You can eat where you want.”
“If only,” Kaelen replies. “There are days that I love my job. I love my people, and I want to be the best emperor I can be for them. However, there are times that I wish I could just wander the streets or go on a vacation without a hundred servants. You know, I have not been to your realm since I was a boy simply because of duty? There are times when I understand why my father called this palace the gilded cage. Ah, here we are.”
Kaelen waves his hand and another set of doors opens to a room that blows away every other room I’ve seen in the palace so far. Almost everything is more than just white. It’s a near-translucent type of stone that I’ve never seen before. Gold adorns everything, and at the front is a throne that looks like something a god would sit perched upon. “Whoa.”
“Just whoa?” Kaelen asks, giving me a knowing smirk. “That throne took a dozen powerfu
l magical craftsmen three years to carve out of star stone for it. At least that’s what the story says.”
I tear my eyes away from the breathtaking beauty of the throne room to look at Kaelen, who has an amused look on his face. “Would you prefer I fall on my knees and worship the chair upon which you perch yourself?”
“I’ve seen it happen,” Kaelen replies, still sounding like he’s amused by it all. “But I think I honestly prefer your reaction. It . . . well, seeing new people react helps me remember that all these trappings aren’t normal. When you’re born and your diapers are silk, you tend to have a skewed view on reality. You think that you deserve to have everything handed to you.”
“Like bedmates?” I ask, broaching the subject as boldly as I can. This is an absolute monarch, after all, who doesn’t get told no often, and I suspect that behind his intelligent speech, handsome face, and perceptive eyes is a man who might not like being told no so boldly. This is a man who can take what he wants when he wants, and who’s to tell him otherwise? “Kaelen, while I appreciate the kindness you’ve shown me, I do not wish to have sex with you.”
Kaelen stops, gawking at me for a moment before he actually blushes. “You . . . you think . . . oh, sweet Mother Tree, I really have to get around to implementing some new rules for the guests. Let me guess. Daelera told you that you were to be presented to me?”
“Actually, yeah,” I reply, a knot of worry releasing itself from my chest. “That and I’m sort of dressed . . . provocatively.”
Kaelen’s eyes look me up and down, and while I can see he appreciates my appearance, he isn’t some horned-up idiot ready to ravish me while bent over his throne. “You are beautiful, Eve. In a world where ninety-five percent of Fae look similar, you add a touch of the exotic to our monochrome court. But I’m not requiring you to become my lover. I will say that your men are lucky.”
“I’m lucky to have them,” I admit, missing them. “I . . . I’m a hundred percent committed to them. All four of them.”
Guardians of Moonlight: A Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (Guardians of the Fae Book 3) Page 4