I couldn’t let the Danú see him like that. It was one thing to have them witness him on the lash at night, enjoying himself. It was another thing entirely for them to realize their crown prince was a depressed alcoholic.
Let them see him for what he truly is. That’s what the Queen would say if she were standing here with us. Lucky for me, I was more than happy to disappoint her every chance I got.
I sent my drink away. The Danú wouldn’t be nearly as forgiving of me if I went to hear grievances today reeking of alcohol. “Get rid of him. Tell Oscar I’ll be down in a moment.” I shifted a new waistcoat, my head already beginning to ache at the thought of dealing with more shite.
“What’s today?” Aveen asked.
“It’s Friday.” My least favorite day of the feckin’ week. I threw on the waistcoat, my stomach sinking even more at the thought of wasting my only day off doing anything but being with Aveen. “And on Fridays, St. Tadhg hears the quibbles and complaints of the masses. Since he has become a worthless drunk, the responsibility has once again fallen on my shoulders.” In my irritation, my fingers kept slipping on the buttons, and if I couldn’t get them fastened, I was going to turn into Tadhg and start ripping them clean off. “Ruling over the Danú is like minding a bunch of unruly children”
Aveen’s hand stretched toward me, and every rational thought fled my brain as I watched like a simpleton as she started fastening my buttons for me. It shouldn’t have turned me on. But, like every other simple thing this woman did, like smiling, breathing—even feckin’ blinking—it did.
“And you don’t like children?” she asked.
“Only for breakfast.”
Smiling, she finished with the buttons and smoothed a hand down my waistcoat, as if she were as loath to let me go as I was to leave.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Her gaze tangled with mine, her expression so soft and inviting that I wanted to stay there forever. “Careful, now. If you keep this up, I may start thinking you have a heart.”
If I had a heart, I’d give it to you.
“A trip to the dungeon would remedy that,” I teased, shifting a coat and adjusting my rolled-up sleeves before tugging it on. One trip down there would sort her right out.
I needed to go, but for some reason, I couldn’t force my feet to turn away from her. “Would you . . . Never mind.”
“Would I what?”
“Would you like to come?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Am I allowed? Wouldn’t want to blur the lines between hostage and captor.”
“You blurred those lines the moment you said you missed me.”
* * *
On good days, dealing with everyone else’s problems felt like a respite from my own. Today was a good day. The Danú appeared as happy about working with me as I was about working with them, but no one balked at my commands. Sitting in this throne always gave me a little thrill.
All right, maybe it was a massive thrill. I’d spent centuries draining life force from those executed in Airren, hoarding my power in hopes of one day being strong enough to defeat the Queen. But this—this title, this throne, having people come to me instead of trying to run away—thiswas true power.
And it belonged to my brother.
When Madden O’Shaughnessy stalked into the room dragging Anwen by the arm, I had a sinking feeling my day was about to take a turn.
The semi-powerful witch loved nothing more than to lord himself over those living closest to him. Just last month, he’d brought in three faeries on suspicion of collusion with the Airren authorities.
I watched Anwen stumble from the man’s shove, my irritation slipping so dangerously close to rage that the air of indifference I’d spent years cultivating nearly cracked. Aveen flew off the dais, helping the woman to her feet.
Madden glared at my human. If he didn’t stop, he’d be meeting the wrong end of my dagger. “What’s the issue, Madden?” The sooner I got the smirking fecker out of this castle, the better.
“I caught this deceitful witch shiftin’ goods from Airren. Bolts of cloth and the like.”
Truth.
Shit.
“Anwen, you have been charged with theft. How do you plead?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.