Page 52 of The Court the Fae Forgot
I kept finding my eyes drawn back to the door of the inn until, at long last, Finch could take it no longer. He slammed down his pint of ale and looked pointedly at me.
“What is it, Aurra?”
My lips parted, embarrassment seeping into me as he looked me over with those eyes that seemed always to undress me.
“It’s Shiel,” I admitted, after a second. “I’m worried about him. Shouldn’t he be in here, with us? Not out there, in the dark. By the forest.”
Zev cast a glance at me then, too.
Only he knew what I was truly saying, but thankfully, even the ale quickly warming up his blood wasn’t enough to make him spill our secret. I was grateful, in that moment, that it was not Finch that had saved me. I wasn’t sure he was a man capable of secrets.
Even Shiel struggled to keep him from spilling them to me at every chance.
Finch pressed his lips together, fighting a smile. It was his turn to try and keep from laughing at me.
“He’s fine, Aurra. He’s slept in worse places than this. Besides, someone needs to keep an eye on the horses. It wouldn’t be safe to stable them here. Too many thieves desperate enough to risk the wrath of a fae for one of his horses. They’d fetch a pretty penny on the black market.”
“Speaking of thieves …” Zev said, not looking up from where he’d half buried his face in his mug.
Finch leapt from the table so quickly that I nearly fell over in shock. My hands braced the table in front of me, my eyes wildly searching the room for a sign of this new threat—only to watch as Finch disappeared toward a set of gambling tables in the back.
Zev’s lips pursed in disappointment, but he said nothing, only downed the rest of his ale before calling for another.
I’d seen my father drink before, but even he couldn’t have kept up with these fae. I had to guess that either they were as much in need of drowning out the last weeks as I was, or the alcohol didn’t affect them as much.
I took another sip of my ale, too, the bitterness outweighing any chance I might have to drown out my own anxieties with it.
Despite Finch’s reassurance, I still caught myself glancing at the door again. I was nearly as surprised when this time, instead of scolding me, Zev’s hand reached out to give mine a reassuring squeeze.
That was all it took to make me blurt out, “Why’d Shiel rescue me at all if he obviously hates me?”
Zev’s face softened a little. “Hate is a strong word.”
“Even still …” I added, my tongue sour as I looked down at the red marks on my hands, reminders lingering long after the actual wounds had healed. “Rescued might not be the word I’d use for what Shiel’s done for me so far.”
“I know Shiel can be … well …”
“A bit of an ass?”
For a second, I wasn’t sure if Zev was angry or amused. Amusement, in the end, won out.
“He wants the best for all of us, Princess,” he said, at last. “I can promise you that.”
“You and Finch both …” I started, then only shook my head. “You know, I might not end up being this long-lost heir, if there even is one. I might not be your so-called princess at all.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of Zev’s mouth.
Before he could answer, though, Finch suddenly appeared over my shoulder. His hot breath warmed the back of my neck as his lips drew so close that I felt them brush against my skin.
“You’ll always bemyprincess, either way.”
Zev grabbed the closest thing to him—which happened to be my still-full mug—and waved it at Finch until the second fae was forced to stumble back. He let out a yelp as ale sloshed over the front of him.
It was effective, however. He kept his distance from me, if only to avoid another dousing with my undrinkable alcohol.
“Don’t worry,” he said, the ale starting to slur his words a bit. “I was just coming back for this.”
He dropped half the contents of his gold purse onto the table, the coins clattering loudly enough to draw several more scowling glances our way. Their eyes only lingered long enough to see Zev’s hand flex beside his sword before they hastily looked away.
