It was Father’s turn to glare. Before he had a chance to swing back to his earlier demand, I held open my palms, beseeching my dad.
“Tell her the truth—that I am safe and that I’m having a good time. I don’t want to leave. I can look out for myself.”
“As can I.” Folas stepped forward.
“I don’t need a bodyguard.” I groaned.
Father’s eyes lit up at that. He nodded once, making a decision. “I am putting Lark’s safety in your hands, Folas.”
“I will guard him as though he were my own son.”
I put my head in my hands. “I’m twenty years old.” I was older than my mom when she had me. I was capable of looking out for myself. My mom and Lyklor had been away from the castle when Uncle Malon escaped his cell. Uncle Liri, Aunt Hensley, and Aunt Sarfina had been gone, too. Who had saved the day? Fraya and me! Dream Team. The rest of the family seemed to gloss over that part whenever it suited them.
“Good, it’s settled.” Aunt Sarfina smiled. “Best get our beauty sleep before breakfast. Our esteemed overnight guests will be delighted by Prince Lark’s company.”
Father’s fingers began to twitch again. Before he could change his mind, I gave him a quick hug and started for the door.
“Good night, everyone.”
Folas followed me into the hallway.
“Shouldn’t you be tucking Gayla in?” I scowled.
At fourteen, Folas’s daughter was too young for castle parties. Something told me Folas would never think her old enough for one of my family’s fetes.
“Lulu is with her.”
The blond giant fell into step beside me and walked me the entire way to my chamber. Infuriating as it was to be escorted through the halls of my second home, I was grateful Father hadn’t forced me to leave.
“How serious is this threat?” I asked.
“No worse than any other I’ve seen over the decades.” Folas’s steady answer eased my concern. At least he spoke to me the same way he did with my parents.
The rest of my family treated me like some kind of socialite who needn’t worry over matters of the realm. I was neither blind nor stupid. Liri’s ideals were archaic. Having spent a great deal of time in the mortal realm of late, I would have thought him more progressive by now. But no. My uncle treated the citizens of Dahlquist as though they were his subjects whose whole purpose was to serve the royal family’s needs.
My parents hadn’t fared much better as rulers. Everyone knew they’d nearly bankrupted the castle treasury giving out large loans to anyone who asked. All those faeries promising to revitalize the town’s commerce had taken the sacks of coin doled out to them and fled the kingdom like bandits.
Uncle Liri said it would take several decades of raised taxes to make up for my parents’ idiocy. The nobles and gentry weren’t impressed with my parents’ politics, even after they’d learned their lesson about handing funds out so freely.
Their hearts had been in the right place, unlike the Fae who had cheated them, but the citizens had been left to pay.
“Are there expenses we could cut in the castle to lessen the burden on Dahlquist’s citizens?” I asked, thinking of the extravagant party my aunt had just thrown.
Folas grunted. No answer followed.
Maybe I’d try taking it up with Uncle Liri the following day. Of course, now he would view it as showing weakness in the face of a threat. I knew Dahlquist wasn’t my mom’s favorite place, but I enjoyed my time here. Despite the gossipmongers and social climbers, I loved court life. I loved the flagrant attire, costumes, music, food, and wine.
I wanted the entire kingdom to thrive.
This was my home.
This was the place of my heart.
After depositing me at my door, Folas left. A warm bath awaited me in my chamber. The servants knew not to attend to me.
I removed my crown and necklace, followed by the shoulder and wrist cuffs. Stepping out of my sandals, I next pulled off the Speedo, giving a sigh of contentment as I climbed into the tub. The water could have been warmer, but it would do. I was unharmed and had been allowed to remain in Dahlquist.
I dunked my head in the water then soaped my hair before giving my locks a thorough rinse. Wet cloth in hand, I rubbed the gold shimmer away, then rose from the tub and dried off.
Pillar candles set my room aglow. I brushed out my hair and toweled it into soft, slightly damp waves. Then I tossed the towel aside and walked around my room naked, extinguishing the candles, save one. I left a single flame burning from a tall white tallow candle beside my bed.
There was always the chance Crispin would visit by dreamscape to ensure I wasn’t bedding his intended.
Folas had our rooms warded against dreamscaping. I was glad for it. I didn’t need Cadmi and her underlings intruding on my sleep, talking dirty in the hopes of enticing me to their guest chambers. The occupant of the room, however, was able to inscribe exceptions into the wall using glittered powder that vanished after tracing the name with the tip of a finger.
My dads had wanted me to inscribe their names so they could check on me. I’d said a resounding, “Oh, hell no. You can portal into the castle and knock on my door if you need to check in.”
But there was one name I’d written. I’d laughed at myself as I’d spelled it out. Ludicrous. He’d never visit my chamber, physically or spectrally.
But I left the candle burning all the same. If Crispin ever dared try it, I wanted to catch him in the act and fling it back in his face.
“So, you’ve decided you want to play with me after all,” I’d drawl.
I could just imagine his look of indignation before he blinked out.
I was prepared to lay awake half the night. It wouldn’t be hard. Slumber wasn’t a comfort that came easily to me. Ever since the night Alok Elmray knocked me out with sleeping dust, I’d struggled to drift off peacefully. I had a fear of remaining unconscious. Vulnerable. Helpless.
Sleep felt like the first step toward that dark abyss of nothingness. I fought it off like an ogre trying to club me over the head.
I’d never actually fought an ogre, but my mom and Ryo had battled a whole army of them. Hearing the story repeated throughout my childhood left an impression. The damn creatures plagued my nightmares.
When the insomnia got to be too much, I’d taken to sniffing sleeping dust. It sickened me to inhale the very substance that had once taken away my control. But I also needed sleep to stay sharp. I only used it when I was wearing thin. No one knew about the small glass vial I kept hidden in a drawer beneath my cotton sleep pants.
Tonight, there would be no taking a sniff, not even the tiniest pinch.
Head nestled into my pillow, I closed my eyes and played back the memory of Crispin rolling around the courtyard in his toga. It had been tempting to rip the white robe right off him for a peek at the goods beneath, but I’d behaved myself. Mostly. I hadn’t copped a feel when I could have. I’d merely defended myself from his pushy, grabby, slappy hands.
I smirked. I seemed to be the only one who could get under Crispin’s skin. It was too easy. Too fun. Too dangerous.
One of these days, we’d go too far. One of us would end up hurt. We’d become more than adversaries. We’d become enemies. That, or the impossible.