Page 59 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

“Let us get this over with,” I say, and while I cannot bring myself to smile, I school my features into something more neutral as I sweep in to greet the first fae who have arrived.

As he did last night, Grant wanders away quickly and flits between several different groups. Some I recognise, some I do not. More than at the ball, for certain.

Dante stays with me, but he is tense. He scans the crowd from time to time, and eventually, I reach over and touch his arm. The tunic he wears today is a darker purple than the one from last night, not decorated quite as intricately, but I like the way it looks on him all the same. Hair peeks from below the low collar and I try not to let my eyes dip there.

“They will come,” I say.

“They?”

I incline my head. “Oisin will bring her here. The fae expect it of him.”

“Are they all going to know…”

“What?”

“That you struck a deal.”

“We would expect nothing less,” a new voice says. Veles is standing there, dark eyes fixed on Dante. “A deal would always have to be struck for the second crown.”

Dante flushes and takes half a step back. Veles shifts his gaze to me.

“It is good that you could make it,” I say.

“You could have made a worse choice, I suppose,” Veles says, ignoring the courtesy. “But he will be the most dangerous one once things settle down.”

“He is ambitious?”

Veles snorts. “Undoubtedly. It is not that. It has been a long time since we had a Seelie wearing a crown. There are those who will not like it.”

Because he is Seelie, or because the other Seelie will expect more from him? Likely both. Oisin has made it clear what he plans to do, and after so long away from this place, I find myself on his side.

“At least it will be interesting,” I reply.

Veles’ eyebrows fly up. It is what I need. If I am to stay here, I refuse to be bored.

“Remember that when you find yourself fighting for your life,” he replies, and Dante lets out a faint gasp.

I reach for him without looking, and when my hand lands on the back of his neck, all the tension leaves his frame. Veles studies us both again. Does he see the truth, too? I know why Oisin does. It is the only reason I allowed Ophelia to stay there last night; whether I need another crownbearer or not, I would have had Grant tear his throat out if I thought he might hurt her.

“Careful,” Veles says quietly. “A human pet has less protection than a soulbond. Even yours.”

I know that. And I do not say that it does not matter, that Dante will be gone before daybreak tomorrow. Veles ducks his head and excuses himself. I watch him go.

“He’s powerful, isn’t he?” Dante asks.

“Very.”

“Why doesn’t he take a crown?”

“He will not fade soon, but I suspect he only has a century or two left. That is not long enough. Not for us.”

Dante frowns. “How long do you think you’ll rule?”

We have, as with a great many things, never discussed my age. Here and now, I am loath to bring it up. “Long enough.”

“Lark,” Dante says. His tone is a warning, and my skin prickles with heat.

“Should everything go well, six or seven centuries. It is not uncommon for a powerful high fae to live for a millennium. My mother was a little older than that.”