Page 81 of The Hidden Fae Prince
“I was congratulating Gevain on his new honor.” Deliberate annoyance lifts Morana’s voice. “This banquet is a wonderful opportunity for Summer’s Edge.”
Gevain preens, ruffling his sideswept hair. “The glory should go to His Highness. As for me, I was assessing the courtyard’s decorative potential when I happened across Tansy’s predicament.”
“He said he would use me for the decorations!” Tansy says, indignant. “As a statue!”
“I didn’t say that,” Gevain says smoothly. “I said you would make a remarkable statue. Hypothetically.”
“A wonderful opportunity for Summer’s Edge,” Morana repeats, her disapproval clear.
Seren wants to scream. How can they preen and nitpick over a stupid party when Midnight stalks Summer unchecked? When Briar is missing and Nevander got stabbed and Tansy’s turning to stone?
Except revelry brings people together. This is the plan. Seren needs allies, and allies are courted like this—through smiles and games and waterfalls of wine.
Though Seren doesn’t want Gevain to feel too favored. The not-proposal hangs between them.
“I appreciate Gevain’s contributions,” Seren says, with a deep, masking breath. He can’t imitate Nevander’s stern expression, but he can be pleasant. Likeable. “As well as Morana’s interest. The banquet is a big, important undertaking. In the spirit of community, why don’t you both work together with the seneschal?”
Gevain and Morana mirror each others’ consternation. Tansy covers his mouth, eyes bright.
Morana recovers first. “Thank you, Your Highness. What an unexpected honor.”
Gevain half-bows. “I will enjoy our partnership. So long as Morana understands the decorations are my domain.”
“We’ll see about that.” Morana tosses her flower-laden braid. “Forgive my departure, Your Highness, but I should track down the seneschal.”
“As should I,” Gevain says quickly.
Seren waves in what he hopes is an elegant dismissal. “Thank you both for your help. And speaking of decorations,”Seren says, rounding on Tansy. “None of that answers why you’re like this.”
Morana sweeps away. Gevain lingers but offers no help to the scowling human.
Tansy sighs and produces a small book. “This said it would bind me to the stones of Elladar.”
“Is that the book Nevander accused you of stealing?” Gevain asks, clearly amused.
Tansy rolls his eyes. “No, this is adifferentforbidden tome.”
Seren’s stomach drops like it too has turned to marble. He’s gotten so caught up in magic and power, he’s neglected the goal that brought him here. At this rate, Tansy is going to get himself killed before Seren returns him to Wymond.
One thing at a time. “Does this book have a countercharm?”
“I haven’t finished reading it yet,” Tansy says with a shrug.
Definitely going to get himself killed. Seren hasn’t the first clue how to fix this. Send Idalia to fetch Nevander or Primrose, probably. They’ll know what to do.
Gevain clears his throat. “No need to disturb His Highness over such a simple spell. Allow me.”
He twists his fingers and mutters under his breath. Stone cracks, and marble crumbles away from Tansy’s thigh to his toes. His leg appears dusty but intact.
“Oh, fuck.” Tansy wobbles but catches himself. “That felt weird.”
Seren’s stomach unknots. “Thank you.”
“Happy to help,” Gevain says cheerfully, then turns to Tansy. “I won’t even require a favor—though if you’d like to owe me, I wouldn’t say no.”
Tansy circles his ankle. “Of course, Great Lord Gevain. I owe you a tremendous favor.”
Gevain laughs. “Liar. Bright morning to you, Prince Seren.”
