“Thank you.” Dal nodded and then waved a hand at me. “My consort, Ravyn Arandel.”
“Yes, my lord.” The man bowed again, turned to face the room, and then announced in a clear, strong voice, “Dalsharan Arandel, the Hawk Lord, and his consort, Ravyn Arandel, the Valorian!”
The respectful silence of the King's arrival was suddenly shot through with eager whispers, and the Hawk Court turned their sharp focus on Dalsharan and me as we strode into the room together. Dal didn't acknowledge anyone but instead took us straight to the dais where the thrones were perched. I tried not to gawk at the extravagant chandeliers, walls of mirrors, and—the hardest to ignore—the Pixies. The little, winged people flew about the room on their butterfly wings, snagging treats from the buffet table to eat as they sat casually on the branches of potted trees and dancing over the heads of the Sidhe. But everyone was staring at me, so I couldn't stare at them. Instead, I focused on the King.
King Avamael sat between his daughter and a woman who I assumed was the Queen. Her brilliant auburn hair was topped with a crown that matched his. To either side of the women were more thrones. On their left sat two men and a woman, and to the right were a man and a woman who were holding hands and giving each other goo-goo eyes. They all wore crowns that matched King Avamael's except the stones set within the points of their feathers were different colors.
When we reached the edge of the dais, Dalsharan bowed deeply, and I hurried to do the same.
“Dalsharan, it is good to have you home at last,” the King declared as if he hadn't just seen us moments before. “And you have brought us a gift.”
“May I present to you, Ravyn Arandel, Sire? Our Valorian.” He waved at me and whispered, “Kneel.”
I knelt and bowed my head, waiting for the King to acknowledge me before I lifted it.
“Valorian, welcome to Varalorre and the Hawk Kingdom,” the King said grandly. “Welcome home, Ravyn.”
I lifted my head and smiled, “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“You may rise, Valorian.”
I stood and bowed again.
“You have done us proud, Hawk Lord,” the King said. “Now, you will see to the Valorian's training personally, correct?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Good.” King Avamael grinned. “I have awarded you a holding in Larinesse, and for you, my Valorian, a residence in Kestria. My steward will deliver the details tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Dal and I said together.
“It is well deserved.”
“It's good to have you home, Dal,” the Queen said. Despite a stark difference in their coloring—Princess Farina being tan and blonde while the Queen was pale with hair like fire—there was a clear resemblance between mother and daughter. “We are so delighted that you have found a consort, and such a handsome one.” She smiled at me.
I beamed at her.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Dalsharan said.
“Enjoy your celebration, Valorian,” the Queen said to me.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
We bowed again and slipped back into the throng. Dal placed a hand on my lower back and led me to the side of the room, nodding to people who greeted him as we went. Several tried to stop us, but Dal kept murmuring something about feeding the Valorian, as if I were some kind of exotic pet.
“Did the King just give me a palace?” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“A fucking palace?”
“Yes. Likely next to mine. But you will not be living in it.”
“I have a palace.” I grinned to myself. “I never imagined I'd ever own a shack, much less a palace.”
Dal shifted a tender look my way. “You're too handsome for a shack.”
I couldn't stop the goofy grin that spread across my face.
Dalsharan led me to a banquet table overflowing with food, and my grin spread wider. Not a single strip of dried meat in sight.
“Now, this is more like it,” I whispered and reached for something.
Dal slapped my hand. “Get a plate, you heathen,” he said teasingly.
“Soldier,” I said and waved at myself.
“Valorian,” he corrected meaningfully.
“Yeah, fine,” I huffed and grabbed one of the little plates stacked to the side. “I won't be able to fit much on it anyway. What's the point?”
“The point is that you come back. It gives you something to do,” Dalsharan said and chuckled. He picked up a plate and placed little round things topped with puffy things on it, then long things with frilly greens.
I picked a puff up and sniffed it. Smelled like meat. I shrugged and piled them on my plate, creating a precarious pyramid of puffs. Dalsharan gave up on me with a shake of his head and another laugh. Then he turned around, snagged a drink from the tray of a passing footman—they were just walking around holding trays with drinks on them!—and sidled to an open chair near the wall. He sat down, leaned back, propped an ankle across his other knee, set his plate on his lap, and nibbled at his tiny food.
I grimaced, grabbed a drink for myself with a muttered, “Thanks, man,” and went to stand beside Dal. “You couldn't have found two chairs?” I grumbled and took a sip.
The Hawk Lord waved at a passing footman. “Bring a chair for the Valorian.”
“Yes, Hawk Lord,” the man scurried off.
“Pompous asshole,” I muttered as I bent my head, bit a little round thing, then leaned back to get it in my mouth.
“Don't do that,” he hissed at me.
“Well, don't act like a pompous asshole and I won't have to call you one.”
“I mean, don't eat like that.”
The footman set a chair down beside Dal's and bowed to us.
“Thank you,” I said as he wandered off, then sat down.
“And stop thanking everyone,” he whispered. “They're just doing their jobs.”
“I don't care, he brought me a chair and the polite thing to do is say thank you,” I shot back. Then I mirrored his pose and started to eat properly. Like a Valorian. I picked up a puff, held my pinky out, and took the tiniest bite of it before chewing thoroughly and going back for another.
A bunch of Pixies in a nearby plant laughed their little butts off. I winked at them, and they laughed harder.
“You are hopeless,” the Hawk Lord lamented.
“You're the one who gave me a piece of your soul,” I said brightly. “I didn't ask you to do that.”