Pretending to be innocent and sheltered but attending a play like that will send the wrong message to Oskar, especially this close to the wedding.

  Our wedding is a bit like the hunting horns sounding when these posh nobles want to “hunt”. Their idea of hunting involves being mounted while men with dogs, horns, and drums flush out the game for them to take potshots at. These fools preen if they manage to hit anything, much less bring it down. Once they’ve hit it, one of the real hunters has to kill it for them.

  My idea of hunting is shifting entirely, running through the dark, and chasing down my dinner before I take it down with my teeth and claws.. It’s been too long since I’ve been hunting. Entirely shifted, I can outpace your horses, I can see better than your trained birds, I have a better sense of smell than your hounds, and I don’t need a weapon other than the ones I was born with. This is partly why I’m not overly concerned about King Oskar. If he tries anything too seriously, I can kill him, devour him, and assume his likeness long enough to issue some edicts to get Kenric, myself, and all of our companions out of Centis quickly.

  While it’s disgusting, it’s a viable option for dealing with this lecherous son of a banshee. The things he does to his Queen, like treating her like a trade good and raping her friends in front of her to demonstrate just how powerless she is against him, means that I won’t feel too bad if I have to resort to that. There are reasons why humans draw monsters and demons that resemble a completely shifted Fey. Most humans fear us instinctively when we’re shifted. Kenric is rare since he doesn’t. I have been careful not to teach him that lesson.

  His dour old Sergeant doesn’t, either. Both of them seem to understand that I’d never hurt them unless they tried to hurt me first. If Oskar had the sense the gods gave a hedgehog, he’d stay far away from the Fey, and he’d have kept his mouth shut about planning an attack on Ellisar. Kenric is one of the few here who understands at least part of what we’re capable of, but he’s nearly as powerless as I am.

  I am as certain as I’m breathing that Ellisar has plans already in motion to deal with this upstart human kingdom. It will burn, like many others before it, because they dared to think they could attack us with impunity. These humans have spent so long burning their magic users that they’re defenseless against our magic. As far as I’ve been able to determine, they’ve bred it out of their population. With no humans using magic, there’s no one to tell if someone’s been glamoured or compelled. I do not doubt that this is how many of the spies Oskar has work.

  If the spy is Fey, it’s easy enough for most of us to look and sound like anyone we want. If the spy is human, they may not even know that they’re a spy. A handshake, a pat on the shoulder, a quick brush in the hallway, that’s all it takes. They have a compulsion that they don’t even know about. Then, if that person hears certain things, they’re compelled to write a note, attach it to a bird, and send it off. They won’t even remember sending it. Most humans don’t even know that this is possible. Any threat to any of the Fey kingdoms would be enough to send messenger birds.

  Oskar sent one of his most trusted dukes as part of the trade delegation. I guarantee that Keimpe De Boer had quite a few compulsions laid on him. I doubt he’s even passingly aware that it’s possible. It’s even possible that Kenric was, but I’m sure that Ellisar knew that I’d check, so they’ve removed anything they put on Kenric. It would have to be extremely subtle for me not to have found it, and I have checked. I’ve also taken other precautions. I won’t see Kenric endangered by any of Ellisar’s shenanigans with this human king.

  One thing Keimpe De Boer and the rest of the trade delegation are now is Ellisar’s spies. I haven’t checked because I honestly don’t want to know, but I know Ellisar, so checking would be nothing more than confirming my suspicions. Nor do I wish to make Ellisar aware of my interest. Centis is going to burn. Ellisar won’t stop until the place is leveled. It won’t be an open war between Oskar and Ellisar, though. Ellisar will manipulate some of the human kingdoms into attacking. I doubt the human kingdoms will realize they’re just tools Ellisar has used. Kenric doesn’t understand why I’m worried or why I’d rather return to Imelenora as soon as possible.

  These are not the thoughts to have when your husband-to-be is trying to sneak in some sexy private time. Kenric seems to sense my mood, and he hugs me, wrapping me up. He smells like the Old Forest back home, and it’s immensely comforting. “Víl?, my treasure, what is all this? Worry when the soldiers come. Until then, we prepare and be happy.”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Sighing, I lean into him. “We have to move back to that ridiculous palace. I have to deal with your ridiculous king. There’s still another week before the wedding. The day after that, though, we’re off to the races.”

  Pretending to be one of the announcers at the horse racing events, “It’s Will She Get Away out in front by a nose, but Debauched King is making a move. Oh, he’s blocked by Lady Melina and Duchess Ina. He’s pulling back to gather himself to try again as Will She Get Away pulls in front on the race back to the rooms.”

  Kenric laughs for a moment. “When you put it that way, I see why this is weighing on you.”

  “Can’t we just stay here, get married again, and sneak away with Inaba?” I ask for what must be the thousandth time.

  Kenric doesn’t bother to answer, but he does start nibbling on my ears. Finally, I yield to what he’s offering. I was no stranger to sex when I met Kenric. When you’re crammed into a few rooms for washing, cooking, bathing, and tending to the wounded with fifteen other people for years on end, things happen. We all have noses, so we all knew, but the unspoken rule was never to mention it. Add to that the constant fear of death and being poisoned with various poisons, hallucinogens, and aphrodisiacs from the monsters we hunted, and more than a few things happened that likely wouldn’t have otherwise.

  Building something that could keep those things out, so we could rest, wasn’t easy or cheap, so our base camps didn’t tend to be very large. We slept together in the same room during the border wars, practically on top of each other. Sex before Kenric was always some rushed, fumbling, hushed, trying not to wake the other fourteen people sort of thing. Kenric’s been a revelation. Nothing with him is hushed, rushed, or fumbling. Even the first time, when he spent hours marking me so that Ellisar wouldn’t be able to interfere, he wasn’t fumbling.

  We showed up at court the next day, so thoroughly marked that it was enough to constitute a wedding in its own right. He's not fumbling now, either, as I find myself tied between the headboard and footboard of the bed, bent over the mattress. His hands have this fizzy, floating feeling as they roam over me. It’s delicious not to have to respond to him, to accept. I yield to his enticements, and it’s a lovely night. The next morning is a reverse of the process when we left the king’s palace, with everything being packed away. I’ve ensured that Doustan and Rekke have been invited to the wedding.

  Everything is packed back into chests. Everyone is packed into carriages. The chests are loaded into hired wagons, and we’re loaded into carriages for the return move back to the palace. Kenric’s men and my own escort us back to the palace. We are returned to our original rooms, and they’re almost unrecognizable. The hallway has been tastefully decorated with murals and what are almost certainly antique pieces. The wooden floors have been reinstalled, and they’re gleaming with fresh wax. The effect is soothing and just a bit opulent. It’s clear that we are in the royal palace.

  I’ve stopped to inspect one of the murals now that they’ve been redone. It’s a stunning bit of work. An older gentleman steps up beside me, also looking over the mural. “What do you think of the renovation so far?” he asks.

  “I’m stunned. This part of the palace seems to be quite a bit warmer, and it’s certainly more pleasant. It feels more like a palace and less like a flea bag inn,”I reply.

  He laughs, “I wasn’t sure how this would play with your foreign sensibilities. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Holger the Artist. We debated extensively on what you might like or dislike. We know so little about the Fey.”

  I grin at him for a moment, careful to keep my canines hidden, “My duennas fled because of the condition of the rooms. Had they seen this, they might have stayed.”

  Holger nods, “We were told a bit about that. It’s a relief that you’re pleased.”

  I smile at him, “Did you paint the murals?”

  “There were three of us. We all did, along with some of our apprentices,” Holger says.

  Hmm… If I can save them from the coming storm, I’d like to. “In that case, when the tides and winds turn next year, would you like to visit Imelenora? Perhaps have an artist’s exchange? I’d love to see that, and you might never want to come back here once you see how much appreciation your skill gets you among the Fey.”

  Holger laughs again, his grey eyes glinting. “Come and see your rooms as they are now. I’d love to hear your thoughts.”

  I follow him to the “toe-stubbing ice cave,” and there’s simply no comparison to the before and after. The rooms are decorated with plaster and feature rugs and tapestries. It looks comfortable and, miracle of miracles, it’s warm. “You wouldn’t even know it was the same set of rooms.”

  I spin around, taking everything in.

  “I took the liberty of hanging the art you purchased from the guild,” Holger informs me.

  It looks amazing. “It’s lovely. It’s not cold anymore either. You’re a miracle worker.”

  Holger laughs again. “We made them fix the chimney before we’d do anything else. We saw the boot prints and knew that was never going to do anything to heat this space,” Holger says.

  “I’ll write to my relatives in Imelenora and see what we can do about setting up the exchange. My father is one of Ellisar’s ministers, so arranging a cultural exchange should be fairly simple, if you and any of the other artists are interested.”

  “I’ll discuss it with our guild chairs. I’m certain that they’ll be interested. I’m so happy you’re pleased,” Holger replies.

  “Pleased enough to try to pack you off to my homeland,” I say with a laugh.

  What do you think of the artists exchange? Let me know in the comments...