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“I wish I’d had the chance to meet her.” She pressed her cheek to my chest and hugged me tightly. “I’ll cherish this handkerchief. Always. Thank you.”
My heart soared.
We held one another in silence for a time before I stepped back and looked up at the sky. “Now, how about a tour of the castle? And Ogalvet packed a lunch for us.”
She smiled brightly. “Did he make that buttery squash loaf bread I like?”
“Freshly baked this morning before we left.”
“Yum. Let’s have the tour. I want to see where you got into all kinds of trouble as a little wraithling.” She stopped suddenly and pressed a palm to her belly, which was still very flat. She frowned.
“What is it?”
“The first day we spoke in my bedchamber, you told me that you didn’t care if we had a boy or a girl first. Do you remember?”
He nodded with a solemn expression.
“Were you being truthful?” I asked.
“Una, I plan to have many children with you. I don’t care what sex they are. But you should get used to the idea that they’ll have horns, male or female.”
Her eyes widened with the realization. “Oh, my.”
I chuckled. “I hope that doesn’t bother you.”
“Not at all. I just never thought of it till now.” She grinned. “He or she could have wings, too. Moon fae wings.”
That gave me pause, trying to imagine a horned wraith male with light fae iridescent wings. That had Una laughing.
Then she grabbed my hand. “Come on. Let’s get this tour going because I’m hungry.”
So we spent the afternoon wandering one of my favorite places in the world, filling the halls with my old stories and Una’s sweet laughter. It was one of the best days of my life.
Chapter 39
UNA
The shadow faemale standing next to Morgolith was strikingly beautiful as well as unnervingly grave. His countenance was unreadable, though his red eyes were alert and watchful. Four smooth horns curled out of his head, adorned with decorative gold along the base and tips. His silver, gold, and black armor was fine but also scuffed in places from use. His dragon-like wings were folded at his back, the arched tips shooting tall toward the sky.
He held himself very still, his hands clasped at his back. But the blades at his waist told me he was always prepared for a fight, even if he appeared calm and docile at the moment.
“King Goll and Mizrah Una,” Morgolith said formally, “please allow me to introduce Lord Vallon of House Hennowyn, high priest of Gadlizel.”
My gaze flickered back to the decorative bands around his black horns. “Are you royal as well?”
His steady, red-eyed gaze skirted over my wings, then met mine with steely examination. “I am not.”
Morgolith seemed to understand my confusion. “Shadow fae priests are very high ranking in their culture. They adorn their horns in gold as the royal family does.”
Thinking of the fragile Elder Lelwyn, I could not help my blunt observation. “You do not look like a priest.”
Goll stifled a chuckle at my side, clearing his throat. But he made no comment.
“You look like you’re ready for battle, not the temple,” I explained.
“The priesthood must always be ready. We honor the gods and keep their holy places well-guarded. We are protectors.”
“What is it that you protect exactly?” I was trying to imagine there was some sacred temple with holy relics that these priests guarded, but from whom were they protecting it? If it was relics or a temple at all. And why would they need to? In Issos, and also as I saw in Silvantis, the locals revered and respected their gods’ temples. They didn’t need protection.
