Page 56 of A Legacy of the Light

Tavish looks down at me, the ghost of our teasing still lining his eyes. It takes me a minute to remember what I was about to say.

“How do you travel in my world? You said your house is in Scotland but I saw you at that bar in Brooklyn. Do you do some misty Seelie magic and transport yourself?” It has been playing on my mind since I found out Reyne could apparently transport food about the castle.

“It’s this magical thing called an airplane and a passport,” he deadpans.

“Well that’s . . . incredibly disappointing.”

Tavish throws his head back and laughs. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. It seems so normal. I was hoping you had magical teleportation abilities or something.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint, my lady,” he says, giving me a mock bow, prompting me to playfully shove him with my shoulder. He doesn’t move an inch.

When I’m with him, it’s easy for me to let my guard down and be the old me. I find that I’m smiling and laughing more and things don’t seem as . . . heavy.

That thought sobers me a little. Guilt creeps in, and my smile drops. Tavish notices my subtle shift in mood and flexes his arm underneath my palm. I look up at him and he’s still smiling at me, but this one is soft, in comfort and understanding.

◆◆◆

We remain in silence until we reach the hall of chambers off the ballroom. Tavish stops me as we enter the huge space.

“Don’t say anything tonight that you don’t want my father to know,” he warns me.

Before I can question him, he pulls me out into the ballroom, taking a left instead of heading into the throne room as I expected. The ballroom is empty this evening which surprises me.

“Where are we going, Tavish?”

“There’s a smaller private dining room. It’s where Father entertains when there are fewer guests”

My nerves rise, making it hard to swallow. I have no idea what to expect from this dinner, and Tavish’s warning has only increased my sense of unease.

“Will Hume be joining us?” I ask.

“Not tonight,” Tavish replies.

My relief is short-lived as we stop outside a simple wooden door tucked in the far-left corner of the room, and nerves rise again. The door is pulled open by a silver-clad guard before either of us can reach for the handle, bowing as we pass through.

In the center of the dining room is a large wooden table, the edges carved with Celtic knots. Sixteen large chairs cushioned in red velvet and framed in gold sit around it, seven each side, and two at either end. If this is the small dining space, what does the large one look like? There’s a huge red rug underneath the table trimmed in gold thread.

The wall to the right is made of glass, and looks over gardens I haven’t seen yet. The dark lake is barely visible beyond them. The wall opposite that window is full of paintings in heavy-looking frames. Portraits, landscapes, and creatures I really hope aren’t real. They’re all sharp teeth, claws, and terror. Barely any of the stone wall is visible underneath.

Three chandeliers provide a soft light, along with the large fireplace behind King Raghnall, who rises from his seat at the head of the table to greet us. His eyes dart to where Tavish and I are linked, and his brow twitches before looking at me.

Tavish bows. “Good evening, Father.” His tone has lost all of the lightness from our walk down here. It’s cold and formal. The voice of the Prince of Elfayne.

“Your Majesty,” I say, bowing, too.

King Raghnall approaches us, his gaze dropping to my chest. Exactly where the Craobh would be if I had worn it.

Tavish notices where the king’s gaze has drifted, and nudges me slightly with the elbow my arm is still resting in. I squeeze it, telling him to behave through that action alone. He ignores me and nudges me again and I have to fight the urge to smile.

“Tavish, Elspeth. Good evening. Come and sit.” King Raghnall gestures to the three place settings at the far end of the table, nearest the fire.

“Elspeth?” Tavish whispers with a snicker.

“Don’t,” I warn him quietly, pissed at the king because I specifically told him I don’t like to be called that.

Only Granny used my full name, and only when she was mad at me.