assigned to watch his son’s house. The fairy bowed low as was proper when greeting the Crown Prince of Annwyn.
Felan inclined his head. “Full stature, I don’t wish to stoop.”
Once he and Chalmer had drank and gambled together. Now it was more than the veil that separated them. Yet he still trusted the fairy. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have sent him to his son’s house to be Caspian’s Brownie.
“Your Highness, thank you for agreeing to meet your most humble servant at such short notice.” The man gave another slight bow that put Felan on edge. Chalmer didn’t bring good news and was afraid… yet not so afraid that he wouldn’t spill.
“I don’t have long.” He had other meetings tonight and he didn’t want to be seen talking to Chalmer; it would start rumors he could ill afford.
While he’d told Chalmer to attend the changeling, he hadn’t said why. He’d done everything he could to ensure Caspian’s safety after allowing him to be born in the mortal world. A lump formed in his throat that was very un-prince like, and more like that of a father who hadn’t seen his son in thirty-five mortal years. He couldn’t.
His fingers curled as if remembering the feel of the tiny babe in his arms. Just the once he’d held his son and kissed his downy hair. That was all he’d allowed himself—any more and his son would be in danger. He knew Caspian would grow up in a loving family; he’d seen their joy and had known he’d made the right decision. From what he’d heard, Caspian was everything a father could want in a son—except the mortal part.
The Brownie inclined his head. “The changeling was recently visited by a banished lord, my Prince, Shea ap Greely. I thought you’d want to know, given recent events.”
“Why does this concern me?” For how much longer would the secret of Caspian’s linage be safe?
“Lord Greely is looking for something called the Window. He was… ah,” Chalmer glanced at Felan before finding the right word, “quite insistent.”
Felan drew in a breath. Had his son betrayed his family? “And did the changeling make a deal?”
“No, Prince. The lord was not happy. He broke the ritual spread, forcing my family to leave, as is proper.”
“Hmm. Thank you for your information; it was most useful.” And most troubling. He’d heard the murmurs between the measures of music and knew that Shea and the Queen were planning something. He’d hoped to have the Window by now, but it appeared to have vanished. If Shea wanted it, it meant he planned to sneak back into Annwyn and cause more trouble. Felan needed the Window, not only to protect his father from the bitterness of the Queen, but also to protect himself.
The Brownie bowed again and hesitated as if not sure if he should leave. “I am ever your loyal servant, Prince.”
“I know, Chalmer.” Felan glanced at the lord who’d been reduced to a Brownie. The gambling debt had been a setup, Felan was sure of it, but that didn’t change the fact that Chalmer needed to pay a penalty. “What is it that you desire?”
“I’m concerned for my family when the power shifts.”
Felan nodded. Many were petitioning the King to lift their exile. They could see the King’s rule was ending and no one wanted to be on the wrong side of the veil when the power of Annwyn shifted from father to son. Those caught in the mortal world would die. “Your daughter is fairy?”
“Yes, Prince. Taryn merch Arlea.” Chalmer used his daughter’s full name to confirm her linage, and make clear he’d broken none of his exile conditions. Taryn was his wife’s child.
“Send her to Court before the vanishing of the moon. For the moment it is all I can do.” At least she would be safe.
Chalmer sighed and looked at the ground as if he had expected more.
“I’m sorry, but the King is issuing no pardons.” He knew his father hadn’t forgiven Arlea for choosing love over duty to her King.
“I understand.” Chalmer bowed, but Felan still saw the disappointment.
If he’d had the power he would have undone the exile, but he didn’t. The first thing he had to do was stop Shea before he could even start making plans for his own takeover. “I will deal with Shea, you stay with the changeling.”
Chalmer hesitated. “And the spread?”
Once broken that was usually the end of the relationship. “The changeling will receive a suitable setting. Report back if Shea returns.”
Chalmer nodded. “An honor serving you, my Prince.” He bowed again then disappeared into the now dark garden.
Felan pressed his lips together. Things were more dire than he’d thought. That Shea even knew about the Window was bad. Did this mean that the Queen had the Counter-Window? It didn’t matter who had it. As long as the other piece of the portal was in Annwyn, Shea could get through. He needed to find the Counter-Window, fast.
With Caspian there, it was easier to start sorting through Gran’s things. Lydia had made several attempts over the past few weeks, but each time she had been unable to do much more than cry and then go home. Today felt different. Maybe it was because she knew she wouldn’t cry in front of him, or maybe it was because she was able to talk about Gran. It was just nice to be in the house and feel like she could breathe again without being crushed by loss.
She wanted to know more about him but wasn’t sure how to start without seeming obvious. It was easy to talk about Gran and the house, but harder to ask questions that would reveal a little more about him, like where he grew up, did he always want to work around antiques, and what films did he like? Initial attraction didn’t always last once the real person was discovered.
Lydia looked at the pictures hanging on the wall. A mismatched collection of frames and images that had been tacked up to form a collage of Gran’s life. Some were black and white, others more recent. And while some were family pictures, including one that she assumed was her mother as a toddler, many were of people she didn’t know. Artists maybe? Friends? Should she pack them away? If she was going to sell the house, it would be better to have all personal items removed—she didn’t want strangers stopping and gawking.
“Do you need these?” She turned to Caspian.
Caspian glanced up at her from his laptop. “I’ll have a quick look at the frames, but probably not.”
He walked over, graceful as if he were at ease in a strange house. Her heart lifted as he drew close and she glanced away. There was something eye-catching about him, yet he didn’t act like a man who knew he was good- looking. He paused to examine each picture on the wall. Then he actually stopped; he was staring at one in particular.
“Found something?”
He tore his gaze away and looked at her. “Do you know who this is?”
She looked at the picture of a young man with a guitar. He was smiling, his pale eyes and sharp cheekbones making him look more like a model. He was almost too pretty in his flares and waistcoat. The clothing gave her an indication of the era, but other than that she had no idea. “Probably just one of the musicians who came here.”
Caspian nodded. He touched the edge of the fame, then shrugged and moved onto the next photo.
“There’s nothing antique or individually valuable here. You can pack them. I’ll just make a note of them in the record.” He took a few photos and she watched his lips move as he did a quick count. Again his gaze seemed to stick on the pretty man.
What was so special about that one?
She glanced at Caspian again. She didn’t really have a clue what was going on behind those pale green eyes. She was sure he’d broken hearts with just a look. He seemed so unobtainable. Or maybe it was because he wasn’t fawning over her like other men. A small part of her wished he’d show a little more interest in her, that he’d hold her gaze when she caught him looking so she’d have an excuse to start a more personal conversation with him. Gran would be having a fine old laugh; she was all for putting the cards on the table and seeing what was there.
