As a child he’d always felt that somehow he must be unworthy of Annwyn since his father was the Prince and didn’t want him. Felan hadn’t even waited for him to be born before casting him off. His mother had said the last time she’d seen Felan she’d been five months pregnant. Just talking about Felan had upset her. Another reason to hate the Prince.
Bloody fairies thinking they could walk in and use humans for whatever they wanted and leave without a second glance.
“You open it,” he said to Dylis. She wasn’t here because she liked him. She was here because Felan ordered her to be here. His father thought highly enough of his changeling son to provide a bodyguard and fairy tutor. For that Caspian had to be grateful. Love him or hate him, they would always be tied by blood and Annwyn.
She rolled her eyes and muttered something that could’ve been about damned souls and rivers, which Caspian chose to ignore.
“You are more like your father every day,” she snapped.
Dylis grunted, flicked the catch, and pushed back the lid. She gave a whistle, then glanced at Caspian. “He raided the armory and placed a strategic land mine.”
The warning tingle became a tightening of his gut. Despite his better judgment, Caspian leaned over and took a look inside the box. Cradled on a bed of the most delicate green velvet he’d ever seen was a silver tea set. But it wasn’t plain silver—that would’ve been far too simple. Chips of gems were woven into delicate knots that looped around each cup and saucer. The knob on the top of the teapot lid was an emerald the size of a small grape.
Out of habit Caspian immediately tried to place a value on the gift. While he could price the metal and gems, he couldn’t begin to cost the craftsmanship. There was nothing like this in the human world.
He swallowed and reached out his hand, knowing it could be a trick and he’d wind up trapped inside or worse. But his father hadn’t charged Dylis with his care only to do him harm now. Beneath his fingertips the box was warm as if it had been resting in the sun.
Caspian broke the contact and stepped back. They were the first words he’d ever heard his father say. He curled his fingers by his side to stop himself from reaching out just to hear it again.
“Anything?” Dylis leaned forward.
“No. Just Felan holding the box,” he lied. He looked at the beautiful tea set; it was obviously meant for his Brownies. “I suppose I should set it up.”
For once Dylis said nothing.
Caspian carefully pulled out each piece. The warm metal gave him no impressions of whoever had handled it before Felan. It was odd—there was always a residual something. As he went through the motions of filling the sugar bowl and milk jug, then brewing fresh tea, the silver seemed to glow with life. There was magic in the set. More magic than he liked having around.
“What’s it doing?”
“Protecting the house. Shea won’t get back in.”
“Is that all it’s doing?”
“I think so.” Dylis walked around the setting as if trying to unlock the secrets of the glowing tea set.
His life was too weird. He could just imagine inviting Lydia over and trying to explain that.
He rubbed his hand over his eyes. It was too late to be dealing with more fairy crap. He climbed the stairs, ready to give in to the exhaustion and sleep. He was stopped at his bedroom door. A silver dagger with a jeweled hilt had been driven through the wood. Shea had been there. And the message was clear: He wanted the Window, and Caspian was running out of time to find it.
Chapter 8
Last night’s fairy drama seemed so far away. If not for the dagger now on his bedside table and the silver tea set in the kitchen, he could have dreamed it. He showered, his thoughts already on Callaway House and Lydia, and he couldn’t stop the smile from forming. It was beginning to feel like a good day. As he dried he tried not to think of the ways it could all go wrong, or that he was going to have to find a way to tell her about his gift.
But he had all day to work that out—that he was actually considering ways to tell her didn’t even make him pause.
He opened his wardrobe. None of his clothes were hanging up, none of his clothes were in the wardrobe, instead there was a very large pile of unraveled threads.
He touched the threads and saw Shea.
“How is that possible?” He wrapped the towel back around his waist and glanced around his room half- expecting Shea to be standing in the corner laughing. But he was alone. He opened up his drawers, but everything there was a tangle of strings. Right. He had no clothes. The familiar twitch that only dealing with fairies caused was back.
This was an annoyance, nothing more. And yet it was far more intimate than a dagger through the door. Shea had been in his room and through his things. He suppressed a shudder and tried to be calm. It was only clothes, and if that was the best Shea could do there wasn’t anything to worry about.
His gaze landed on yesterday’s clothes on the floor where he’d left them before going to bed. Good thing it was jeans and a shirt instead of sweaty running clothes. But he was willing to bet that everything in the laundry basket was still as it should be. Brownies didn’t do laundry, and he didn’t mind. It gave him a semblance of normality that most people would trade in a heartbeat. There was at least a few days’ worth of clothing waiting to be cleaned. None of which he could pack into an overnight bag for his stay at Lydia’s.
Dressed in yesterday’s castoffs he jogged down the stairs and checked in the laundry. His suspicions were confirmed.
“Screw you, Shea,” he muttered as he stuffed the darks into the machine and got them going. A fairy lord wouldn’t think of laundry; he’d be used to his clothes getting sorted out by servants.
“Why are you cursing him?” Dylis leaned against the door frame, arms crossed.
“Go look in my closet.”
Caspian turned, but she was already gone.
Her high-pitched laughter tinkled through the house like the annoying little bells people put on cat collars.
“Oh my, that is the oldest trick known to fairies.” Dylis was still grinning.
“I will have to buy new things right away.” Before he went to Lydia’s, as he couldn’t show up in yesterday’s clothes and with nothing clean to put on. He inhaled and forced it out slowly. He didn’t need this extra fairy bullshit in his life.
“It’s still funny, and it could’ve been so much worse. He could’ve done a wear and unravel spell, so you’d be left standing naked in town.” She started giggling again.
Caspian gave a snort that almost turned into a laugh. “Point taken.”
“It’ll be fine.” She nodded and smiled. Dylis never said anything would be fine, and her smile was now a little too forced. “You can’t stop living just because he could be waiting; if you do he’s already taken control and that’s what he wants. He wants to make your life so unbearable you agree to whatever deal he offers. Do not let him make the deal. If you have to, you make the deal, you set the terms.”
“If I make a deal with a Grey, and word gets back to Court, I’m screwed.”
Dylis pressed her lips together but had nothing to say.
But he didn’t see Shea all day. Or any Grey, not even a little one. He collected the new glass for the ex-
