Flustered, I had no answer for her, so I turned my attention back to the man in front of me. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, but the effect was more wry than amused. “Please, call me Olen. I am not royalty, by any means. My title is just that—a title.”
“Only if you call me Roxanne. Madame makes me sound old.” I heard either Sam or Tess clear their throat. “Let me introduce everyone.” I ran through the introductions, pausing when I got to Astra and the Draftmans. “I believe you already know each other.”
“We do, yes.” He inclined his head respectfully to the little queen, though he didn’t bow. “Queen Astra.”
“Olen.” She didn’t bow to him, either, but she did return his nod.
“Clydus, Dutch. It pleases me to see you both staying on to help Roxanne while she gets her sea legs.”
“Oh, we’ll be sticking around for a while, Olen. Life hasn’t been this interesting in a long time.”
Between Clyde and Sam, I was reminded almost daily about just how interesting my life was. I’d finally started responding by reminding them in turn how grateful they should be that I was only too happy to share everything they considered ‘interesting’—the battles with Turned witches, attacks on my firm, traps laid for us on the sides of highways . . . the fun just never ended.
But, deep down, I knew they were here for my sake. Or perhaps Gloria’s, in Dutch’s case. And there were several good things to consider, too. The pixies and their new fairy mound, the birth of the kits—the first new familiars to be born since witches and Zara’s people had first been paired by the mysterious light beings called the Powers That Be, and the firm’s coven that was paving the way for the rest of the witches in the territory and those beyond, to name a few.
The king took in Danai and Sebastian, nodded to them respectfully, then surveyed the area around me. “Roxanne, your familiar is not here?”
“Zara is indisposed at the moment. She sends her regrets for not being here to greet you.”
Nicely done, Zara said with a sneeze that tickled my brain.
Beside me, Rand cleared his throat and stepped forward, drawing everyone’s attention. “Sorry to interrupt. I’m Randall James. Everyone just calls me Rand, though.” He held out a hand to the king of the water fae. I swallowed hard, feeling guilty as I realized I hadn’t introduced him with the rest, having completely forgotten, since I was so used to being the only one who could see him besides the familiars. Astra had even commented on him just moments ago. It was all I could do not to cover my face with my hands. Maybe I could blame nerves, but I was still mortified.
Olen looked from Rand to me, ignoring Rand’s outstretched hand, his face unreadable. I gave Rand a weak smile. “I’m so sorry,” I mouthed. Addressing Olen, I explained, “Rand’s situation is . . . unusual.”
Olen sized Rand up, his head tilted curiously. Rand dropped his hand, moving to stand at parade rest. “How so, if I may ask? I have not seen one of his kind in at least a century.”
Hope flared in my chest, pushing the embarrassment of my faux pas away. “One of his kind? You’ve seen this happen before?” Did the king of the water fae know something about ghosts and what had happened to Rand?
The king’s eyes left Rand and returned to me, his brow lowering in confusion. “I’m not sure what you refer to. He is one of the light folk, is he not? It is weak within him, but it is there. An ancestor, not too distant, I would think.”
Light folk? Was he referring to the fae? Before I could ask more, Astra breathed, “Of course. The stone must have recognized him. That would explain much.” I think she was speaking more to herself then to any of us.
“Will that help us find any answers about his condition?” I asked.
“Rox, you do realize I’m standing right here? I don’t know if being alive can be considered a condition. If it is, I’m good with it.” He gave me a slow half smile and winked at me. Heat bloomed in my center and I pushed it down. Way, way down.
Sam, Tess, and Danai, silent up until now, moved closer, Dutch trailing a few steps behind them. I noticed he was watching Olen’s two companions closely, as was Clyde. Was there something wrong? Sam touched my arm lightly, pulling my attention away. “Would you like us to set up the table and chairs? This sounds like it might end up being more than the meet-and-greet originally planned.”
Olen’s eyes flicked to my friends, resting a second too long on Sam, as if sizing her up, before returning to me. “I cannot stay long, I am afraid.” His expression turned troubled. The two fae flanking him shifted restlessly. They looked back at the river, their faces every bit as troubled as his, before coming back to attention. “I have urgent matters to attend to with my people.”
Wondering if I should ask if there was anything I could do to help, I reached my hand up and covered Sam’s, patting it gratefully. “Thanks.”
Olen’s eyes widened and I heard his sharp intake of breath. He stared at my hand. Perplexed, wondering if I had offended him in some way, I looked down. My sleeve had ridden up, exposing the sapphire bracelet. Was I showing too much skin or was it the bracelet he reacted to? I pulled my sleeve down to cover the bracelet that felt more like a manacle—mentally, if not physically—trying to make the action appear casual.
“That
