Page 40

He glanced idly at the man who stood before him. “Would you, by any chance, prefer your fellow courtiers not to witness Queen Lorelei’s choice, after your own failed earlier attempts?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Oberon’s lips pulled into a snarl as his voice lowered. “You’re nothing more than an ignorant, mortal animal dropped into an immortal world of which you know nothing. You may currently be enchanted by her wiles, but I assure you, Lorelei sees you as a mere pawn in her games. You will never survive them if you refuse to take good advice when it’s offered!”

“Hmm.” Gerard allowed his expression to become thoughtful. “It is an interesting puzzle, then, that my partner and I are managing so well in the competition thus far. Based on the number of remaining competitors, I assume we have only one day remaining before the final decision must be made?” He waited for Oberon’s reluctant nod before continuing, “In which case, her games seem to be surprisingly helpful for both of us.”

Oberon hissed out a breath through his teeth. “You—mortal—soldier! I am attempting to help you survive that decision, as a favor to you.”

“Indeed?” It was always fascinating to see a man so convinced of his own superiority. Gerard had learned a long time ago that his build and military bearing, to a particular type of aristocrat, implied a concurrent lack of ability to think outside a battlefield.

Diplomacy was another type of warfare, though, and one he’d had to master in order to rise through the ranks. So he didn’t allow amusement to bleed through into his voice as he asked, “In your far more elevated opinion, what would you advise me to do?”

“Go home, of course. Now! To the mortal realm. Save yourself!” Oberon waved one hand with fluid fae grace and firm dismissal. “Let this all become a distant dream to you of which you can brag to your friends and commanders—the week in which you, alone of all magicless mortals, were allowed to join in one of Efaelen’s most honored traditions as a near-equal.”

“Tempting.” Gerard tilted his head, studying the other man’s expression. “However, you may not realize that it is anything but simple for a … mere mortal to travel between realms. Even our witches and wizards can’t manage that feat, so how would you advise that I do it without, as you observed, any magic of my own?”

“Never fear.” Oberon’s face relaxed into a smugly condescending smile. “You may rely upon my assistance for that part. I assume you work for one of the many mortal kings in your own realm?”

“Something of the sort,” Gerard agreed easily. Was Oberon, he wondered, even aware of the Serafin Empire’s existence? Led by Otto II’s grandfather, it had devoured most of the continent’s individual kingdoms decades before Gerard’s own birth—but of course, the other man, despite his youthful appearance, was immortal and clearly considered human cultures unworthy of his attention.

Gerard made a careful mental note of that weakness, in case it should prove useful in the future.

“Well, then.” Oberon’s smile broadened. “You may inform your ruler that I chose to help you as a gesture of renewed friendship from Efaelen.”

Gerard’s eyebrows twitched upwards. “And are you now authorized to speak for the Queen of Efaelen in all things, not only this tournament?”

The angry flare of the other man’s eyes was an answer in itself. “We haven’t time to quibble over details,” Oberon snarled, “and you wouldn’t understand them anyway. Just hear me, soldier, when I say to you in truth: Regardless of any other bargains you’ve sworn, if you only hold out your hand to me now, I vow to the trees and rivers that I shall deliver you, safe and sound, back to your mortal realm, free to return to your own petty concerns. All you need do is take my hand in agreement, and this long and perilous dream of yours will be ended.”

“All you need do is take my hand in agreement…”

Lorelei was already fully cloaked in illusion, invisible and inaudible to Oberon and Gerard. Still, her breath instinctively stopped in her throat at Oberon’s offer, as if her body itself, lanced by shock, feared giving her away to the two men who stood only a few feet away from her.

She had followed them from the moment she’d first seen Oberon lead Gerard from the field, but she’d done it with the pure intention of protecting her partner. She’d known Oberon must be up to some new, malicious scheme; she’d feared what he might do to her partner to harm her … and yet, it still hadn’t hit her until this moment what Oberon could offer Gerard, instead, to steal him from her.

Curses, she knew she should have taken the time to hammer out a better bargain with her new partner yesterday! True, he had sworn to fight by her side in every trial he was called to—but he couldn’t be called to any of them from the mortal realm, so Oberon’s bargain would count him free from their agreement.

At the time, she’d let that loophole go unfilled rather than risk him noticing the even larger loophole he’d left her in return … when he’d failed to insist that she return him to the mortal realm alive, unharmed, or even freed from her captivity. Unlike the fae, humans weren’t trained to gauge every word in the bargains that they swore, with no magic to act as a firm binding. So, she’d judged it a risk worth taking, as he couldn’t leave the realm without her anyway …

But of course Oberon could transport him between the mortal and fae realms with ease. Anyone with fae blood could do it, apart from Lorelei’s own contractually bound mother. Even more persuasively, Oberon would have to do it without pulling any nasty tricks along the way, to fulfil that binding vow he’d just spoken.

And when Gerard did abandon her …

Unlike any of the other men she’d trusted, he wouldn’t even consider it a betrayal. Blinded by her own dazzlement, had Lorelei actually forgotten that he still considered himself her prisoner? Of course he would leap at the chance to return to his ordinary life, blindly serving the emperor she hated and trampling over everything she loved!

Once he was safely returned to his Imperial home, he would probably never sleep again without cold iron lining his bed to guard against her entry. After this, she would only ever see him on the opposite side of a bloody battlefield, forced to either kill him or be killed herself. He would never again fight by her side or hold her or kiss her as if …

Gerard spoke over her spiraling thoughts, his tone as mild as if he were discussing the fucking autumn weather instead of his entire future and hers, as well. “A generous offer indeed, my lord, but I won’t trouble you to fulfil it.”

“What?” Oberon’s mouth dropped as both he and—invisibly—Lorelei gaped at Gerard in joint astonishment.

“Was I unclear?” Gerard rolled his big shoulders in an indifferent shrug. “Much as I appreciate the offer, I’ve already committed to fighting this tournament at my partner’s side. I may be a mere mortal, but I do not break my vows, Lord Oberon.”

Oh, gods … Lorelei stuffed her right fist into her mouth to hold back what felt uncomfortably like a sob as tremors of relief rocked through her body. Of course. The magic of her bargain might not bind him, but his rigid sense of duty had kicked in, despite every other contradictory concern. It was everything that she both hated and loved about—

No. No love was involved in her feelings for the Golden Beacon.

It was just so very him.

“However,” Gerard continued, “as we’re speaking of fae magic … a moment ago, I seem to recall you accusing Queen Lorelei of using enchantments to take away my good sense, which brought up an interesting question. May I ask whether her mother, your queen, knew of your own attempt to make a similar assault on Lorelei by means of an illicit potion?”