“Who dares to throw objects at the future queen?” Kirian roars, silencing the onlookers.
All the smiles around us drop immediately.
A male troll steps forward. His nose is long and his ears are large, and if I had to guess his height, I’d say he’s about four and a half feet tall.
“My apologies, Your Majesty.” He drops to his knees and puts his face to the ground, causing his brown hat to fall off his balding head. His next words come out muffled. “It’s a scarf made from my silk spiders. It would be such an honor to have it worn by royalty.”
Crushing the fabric in his fist, Kirian feels the length of it, inspecting it as though it might turn into a snake and bite me.
And shit, I dunno. Maybe that’s totally possible.
But it just looks like an ordinary scarf to me, and it’s beautiful. The blue is a lighter shade than the kingdom color, and there are gold stars spun throughout the fibers.
“Please,” the man begs, trembling. “I meant no harm. I became too ambitious, my lord. I wanted to be able to brag about the queen wearing my scarf.”
A shiver races up my spine, and I don’t know how, but I can feel the truth of what he says. He’s not lying.
I reach over and pat the uptight fae king’s muscular arm.
“Kirian, it’s just a present. And to be honest, I really want it.” I project my volume a little, hoping the poor guy hears I’m happy with the gift.
Relinquishing his strangling hold on the silk, Kirian passes it to me. It’s softer than I thought it would be. I rub it against my cheek before wrapping it around my neck.
“Thank you,” I say down to the still-kneeling troll. His face is pressed so hard against the ground, he’s probably eating dirt.
“Stand up,” Kirian orders, and the troll scrambles to his feet. “What’s your name?”
“Fallon, Your Majesty.” Wringing his hat in his hands, he won’t even look at us.
Kirian’s temper isn’t usually this short, but I can sense his tension as if it’s mine. We’ve always been able to read each other. Our friendship has been easy because it seems like we’re on the same page most of the time.
When Kirian’s mood is darker, so is mine. When he’s happy, so am I. That’s only become more apparent since I’ve been here. We’re closer than we’ve ever been.
“If my mate is pleased, then I am as well,” Kirian says, his voice losing the off-with-his-head tone. “We’re grateful for your generosity.”
“Yeah,” I add. “This is beautiful, Fallon. I’ll wear it every chance I get.”
Fallon finally raises his head, and when he grins, I see several missing teeth. “You’ve made me a very happy troll today, milady.”
I give him a genuine smile, and Kirian clicks his tongue, indicating we should get moving. The horses obey the signal and start walking again.
Crisis averted. Now that the drama has passed, people chatter and cheer—a little more subdued than before.
I glance at Kirian. “What’s wrong?”
“Too many people here.” His jaw clenches. “It’s making me nervous.”
I frown. “Just try to relax.”
“I’ll relax when I know who’s trying to kill you.”
There it is. The unpleasant reminder. Since the explosion, there haven’t been anymore murder attempts.
It’s been easy to get caught up in the fun.
He’s right, though. We need answers. I don’t want to be constantly looking over my shoulder. Living in fear. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Everything will be okay.” I inject as much optimism into my voice as I can. “We’ll be seeing the witch by tomorrow night. I think we’re in the clear.”
Quinn
I spoke too soon. I really did.
Tears run down my face as I heave, emptying the contents of my stomach for the fifth time.
I’ve never been a quiet puker. It sucks, but I’m too sick to be mortified. The humiliation of sounding like a dying donkey in front of Kirian will come back to haunt me later, I’m sure.
But right now, I’m just grateful he’s with me. Holding my hair back. Rubbing my shoulder. Murmuring concerned words.
“I jinxed myself,” I gripe. As Kirian helps me stand, I hold a hand to my roiling stomach. “Of course I’d get the stomach flu at a time like this.”
After the scarf incident, Kirian seemed to be in a hurry to find our hotel for the night. He chose the biggest one, and they were already prepared for our arrival. It’s a gorgeous three-story building, with a white stucco front and tan shutters framing each window. Like all the other places we’ve stayed, there’s a restaurant and bar downstairs.
Soup was on the menu. That’s it. Same meal for everyone. I ate it, even though it had a bitter taste to it. Who was I to judge? Maybe they have some funky-flavored vegetables in Aelustria. Or maybe I was already coming down with the virus, in which case, nothing would’ve tasted great anyway.
“Quinn, we don’t get the stomach flu in Valora.” Eyebrows furrowed, Kirian hands me some toilet paper to wipe my mouth.
I shrug. “Maybe I was exposed to the virus before I came here.”
“It wouldn’t matter.” His frown deepens. “You shouldn’t be getting sick. Not in this world.”
“Let’s just go up to our room.” Saliva floods my mouth, and I can tell the worst of it isn’t over. “I want to lie down.”
“I need to tell Torius to stand guard in the hall, then we can head up.” He hooks an arm around my shoulders, and I lean into him.
“You haven’t made him do that all the other nights. Is that because you didn’t want him to hear us?” I try to inject sexiness into my voice, but it gets ruined when the last word is interrupted by a juicy burp. “I guess it’s not like we’ll be doing anything tonight.”
Such a shame. I had plans, damn it.
“I’m pretty sure half of Valora has heard us, Quinn,” Kirian
