Chapter Six

I looked at him in alarm, but I could not ask the questions of him that I wanted to; he would not tolerate the informality. “As you wish, my King,” I bowed my head, and stood instead, fidgeting through their conversation, effectively forbidden from pursuing Akyran and ensuring his welfare.

They exchanged gossip about the courtiers and nobles in attendance, and the dances progressed into estampies and other couple dances.

Eltarin joined us. “Your majesties,” he bowed to the King and Queen. “May I steal my sister for this dance?”

I looked to King Treyvin, and he inclined his head. I accepted Eltarin’s hand and stepped onto the polished dancefloor with him.

“Thank you,” I said fervently to my brother.

He laughed. “You looked like a griffin in a cage.”

“Akyran had an argument with King Treyvin and stormed off, and I was not permitted to pursue,” I said under my breath. “I thought I was destined to spend the rest of the evening listening to courtly chatter whilst Akyran’s off at the tavern.”

“Ah,” Eltarin said wisely. “That explains it. I doubt Akyran’s gone to the tavern.”

“Hmph, this is Akyran we’re talking about,” I reminded him. “We’ll finish this dance, and then hopefully I can slip out and go after him.”

“I can save you the bother,” Eltarin replied, his eyes behind me. “He’s just come back into the room.”

Throughout the remainder of the dance, I watched Akyran drink his way through three glasses of wine whilst glowering at his father from across the room. When the dance ended, and before I could escape, my father halted my progress wanting to draw me into a dance.

“I am sorry,” I said to him, looking over my shoulder at Akyran. “I need to see to Akyran. If he does not leave the wine alone, in this mood, there will be a scene.”

“The King asked me to take you for a dance,” my father replied firmly. “You cannot refuse, Ecaeris.”

I sighed out a breath. “He is determined tonight,” I observed, letting my father lead me into the circles of dancers. “What are they arguing about?”

“Treyvin is justified,” my father replied grimly. “And does not want the reasons circulated, so we should speak of it no further, Ecaeris.”

Daryith hovered waiting for the next dance.

“Let me guess,” I said to him. “The King ordered you to dance with me. Does he intend to keep me dancing all night?”

“I do not know,” Daryith admitted. “But the king asks, we do.”

“Hmmm.” We danced in silence for a little while, and I watched Akyran finally incline his head at his father. “There we go,” I sighed in relief. “Hopefully, this will be the last enforced dance.” I turned my attention to Daryith remembering his comment from the game. “What did you mean, by the way, about Akyran’s mistress?”

“Ah,” Daryith flushed. “What do you mean, what did I mean?”

“Exactly what I said. What mistress?”

“I do not know, truly,” Daryith shrugged awkwardly. “There’s a rumour, that is all.”

“Alright,” I prompted. “What does the rumour say?”

“Just that there was a mistress, and King Treyith had Leamoira send the girl away to serve the dragon’s princess.”

“Mmm,” I digested this, feeling a tightness in my chest.

If Leamoira had sent a girl away because of Akyran’s attentions, then the girl had been important to him. He had not told me of her, however, and he was not normally discrete about such things. Perhaps there was no girl, therefore.

But Treyvin’s and Akyran’s argument indicated there was a disagreement between them. If Treyvin had sent Akyran’s mistress away, it would certainly explain Akyran’s anger. But why would the King do so? They had never intervened with Akyran’s bedfellows before unless…

If Akyran was attached to a woman who was partially mankind, that would certainly cause the king to intervene. Even a dalliance for the future King of the Dark Court with a woman of mankind or halfling would be discouraged, and Akyran knew that, so he would not dally, unless there was a genuine attachment…

Was Akyran in love? Why had he not told me? Because she was of mankind?

“I need a drink,” I told Daryith as the song came to an end. “I have been dancing quite long enough.”

I collected a glass of wine from a servant’s platter as I made my way to a seating area and drank it quickly before claiming a second. My dress felt too tight, too heavy on my skin, and the ballroom too hot. I made my way to one of the doors onto the terrace, and stepped out for air, leaning against the balustrade.

My parents and brother had been brought here as Treyvin had intentions to use me somehow to control Akyran. It was why I had not been permitted to follow him. Surely Treyvin would not force me to betray my friend somehow?

I claimed another glass of wine as I entered. King Treyvin met my eyes and indicated I was to join them. I sighed and took the wine over to the table set at the head of the room, behind which the king and queen now sat, my parents to one side.

“Sit beside me,” Treyvin instructed me. I met Akyran’s eyes across the room as I did so and widened my eyes at him. He finished his drink and set it to the side, excusing himself from his conversation with a group which included at least two of his past lovers. Lady Beria looked hopefully of a repeat of her stallion evening in Akyran’s bed. I sighed and wondered if I would have to spend another night with a pillow over my head.

Akyran came around the table, to my chair. “Dance with me, Ecaeris,” he said, taking the wine glass from my hand and placing it on the tabletop.

“As you will. I like this song,” I let him draw me out onto the dance floor and spin me so that the layered skirts of my dress swirled with the movement and caught the light. He was tense, the set of his shoulders and his arms hard against me. “So, why has King Treyvin been keeping me within eyesight all evening?”

“No reason,” he tightened his grip, drawing me closer against him than was strictly within the boundaries of etiquette. If it had been anyone other than Akyran to hold me that tightly during a dance, I would have broken his thumbs. I could smell the spirits on him - he was half-way drunk, I thought.

“Surely you do not expect me to believe that?” I commented. “You’ve been glaring daggers at your father across the room ever since your argument.” I saw Leamoira and my mother, their heads inclined towards each other, murmuring behind their hands, their eyes on us. Eltarin had moved to stand behind their chairs. I raised my eyebrows at him, and he returned the look.

“I am not allowed to discuss it,” Akyran cleared his throat. He slowed the steps of the dance, positioning us in the centre of the room, out of the circle of the other dancers. “You have the right to refuse, Ecaeris.”

“The right to...” I started and leaned back to look up at him. He watched my face, a muscle working in the corner of his jaw as he clenched his back teeth, a habit I had grown to know well. He was angry. “Akyran… What is going on?” I was baffled. “Are you invoking the law of three?” The law of three was used in many ways, but most often, between Fae, to invoke the rite of marriage.

“You have to answer, Ecaeris,” he replied. We had given up any pretence of dancing, but he continued to grip me tightly to him, his grip too tight, as if he feared I would seek to flee him.

I swallowed, hard. My heart pounded against my sternum. I knew I was missing a piece of the puzzle, between this rumour of a mistress, Akyran’s disagreement with his father, King Treyvin using me to control Akyran… I wanted, oh so much, for this offer to be genuine, but there was a bad taste in my mouth.

“I know I have the right to refuse,” I said carefully. “Do you want me to?”

He looked taken aback and then bewildered. “I would not be invoking the law of three if I wanted a negative response.” He frowned.

“Akyran,” I said softly. “We can just keep dancing and pretend we did not start this conversation. I do not know what is going on between your father and yourself, but I…”

“You have to answer,” his grip tightened. “By the new moon, Ecaeris, you are making this difficult.”

“I do not mean to be difficult.” I was aware that we were the centre of attention, the dancers and audience alike focused on our murmured conversation, watching our body language and our faces, trying to determine the content of our discussion. “This is a very, ah, public venue for this, Akyran.”

“I am sorry about that,” he replied softly. “I have my reasons. Ecaeris...”

I would have to just trust him, I decided. “I’m not refusing.”

He sighed out a breath, and I felt him relax. “You had me worried for a moment there,” he said, colour heightening on his cheeks. “You can refuse, Ecaeris.”

“Akyran,” I saw his father and mine move to stand near our mothers. My father met my eyes and nodded encouragingly. I forged on with the question, regardless. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

He laughed, wryly. “I’d hardly be doing it otherwise, would I?”

I met his eyes and held them, frowning. “You’ve never...”

“We are,” he interrupted firmly. “In the middle of a conversation, Ecaeris.”

I had not answered, I realised. I searched his face with my eyes, trying to see some hint of what I wanted to see… All I saw was annoyance.

“Ecaeris,” he prompted.

I looked over his shoulder at the king. Treyvin met my eyes and inclined his chin. I looked back at Akyran. He was frowning. I sighed. “I’m not refusing.”

“You have the right to refuse.”

“I’m not refusing.” This was not how this was supposed to be done, I thought bitterly. It was not romantic, tender, passionate, and private – it was the opposite of all those things.

“Will you be mine?” The frown had eased from his face now that I was following the required script.

“Yes,” I mumbled, dropping my eyes to the buttons at his collar, and knew my cheeks had flushed.

“You’re blushing,” he said, amused. “I think the only other time I’ve seen you blush was that time - ”

“Akyran,” I cut him off, jerking my eyes back to his. “Don’t make me stamp on your instep.”

“That would make a story for our children,” he replied. “In the middle of the dancefloor, whilst I was asking your mother to marry me, she stamped on my instep… Will you be mine, Ecaeris?”

Three opportunities to refuse, three acceptances, and three consummations. I could not lift my eyes to see those that watched us. There was a reason that marriages were normally made privately, as they were intensely personal and physical affairs. I could not fathom why he had chosen to do it here, except...

“Your father made you do this.”

“Ah,” he dropped his face, so his lips were near my ear. “Yes and no. It is my father’s way of keeping me inline, yes. But I had planned to do it anyway. Answer the question, Ecaeris.”

I could hardly refuse. Even had I wanted to, every person in the ballroom by this time knew the content of the discussion that held us frozen in the centre of the dancefloor, and I would humiliate him if I did. I did not want to humiliate Akyran. And I wanted him, had wanted him since childhood. But did he want me?

“Are you sure?” I asked him.

“Answer the question, Ecaeris,” he said, tension building in him again as I delayed.

“Yes.”

“Will you be mine?” he murmured into my ear. We must look romantic, I thought, grimly, to those who watched, with my face against his neck and his cheek against mine, but there was no romance in his grip. It was more, I thought, as if he sought to tame a wild horse, holding tightly to it, and whispering into its ear.

“You are my best friend,” I whispered. “I cannot imagine my life without you.”

“And you are mine,” he replied, his grip gentling, his thumb stroking as if to sooth away the red marks he had left behind. “There is no one I would marry, if not you, Ecaeris.” It was not, I thought, a declaration of passionate, romantic love, but it was something. “Answer the question, please. I don’t think any other Fae-man in history has had to work this hard to get the rule of three from his wife’s lips.”

“Akyran...” I leaned back against his grasp and he rested his forehead against mine, holding my eyes with his. I examined the depths of those blue eyes, searching for a reason behind that nagging doubt that had me hesitating. There was no passion, no heat, no desire in his body for all that he held me tightly against him.

“Ecaeris,” he brushed his lips over mine. “All you have to do is say yes one more time, please.”

But that was not all, I knew.

“Say it,” there was a sharpness to his voice, and shadows in the dark blue of his eyes. “Yes, Akyran.”

“Yes, Akyran.”

“Good girl,” he smiled, triumphantly, his face relaxing and he pressed his mouth against mine.

The courtiers cheered, and suddenly we were surrounded by silks and perfumed hair, as everyone moved in to congratulate us both.

And Akyran released me, letting us be drawn apart by the crowds.