“I have an Arena match tomorrow morning. Right after that, I go to a safe house until we hear from the angels.”
“I see.” The King drums his fingers on the tabletop, his face lost in thought. All of a sudden, the atmosphere in the tent zings with tension. Both Lincoln and Octavia look particularly unreadable, which means something big is definitely going on.
I roll my eyes. I’ve had enough staring-and-not-talking for one day. “You’re clearly debating something, Connor. What is it?”
He looks at me, his furry brows arching. “If you must know, it’s whether to endorse Lincoln’s plan to gather together the lesser houses.”
My mouth starts speaking on its own. “I’ll help him.”
The King lets out a puff of breath. “And how will you do that from hiding?”
“I’ll find a way.” I bow my head. “Strength in battle, your Highness. If the Earl doesn’t like it, I’ll pull some strings and send him to Hell.”
The King nods slowly. “I believe you’d do it, too.”
I snap my fingers. “In a heartbeat.”
“Fine, we’ll wait.” He points at Lincoln. “You’ve got a month, boy. Bring together the minor houses.” His face droops. “I’ll stall the Earl.”
Lincoln’s mouth curls into a satisfied smile. “Thank you, father.” He gives my hand an especially long squeeze. Warmth and love bloom in my chest. Together, Lincoln and I can do this. We can do anything.
Octavia taps the tabletop with one fingernail. “We have other matters to discuss.” She turns to me. “This match tomorrow morning. How will you compete without exposing your identity?”
“My fighting suit has a face-mask that hides my eyes.”
The thought of my fighting suit is somehow calming. That thing is so freaking awesome.
“Very good.” Octavia turns to her son. “And you’ll be there as well?”
“It’s not an official thrax event, but I’ll contact the minister. I’m sure I can watch from an archway.”
I turn to him with the biggest smile ever. “You’ll be there?”
He winks. “Nowhere else.”
I feel a weight lift from my body. Sweet.
Connor’s brow furrows. “Will you bring extra soldiers with you?”
Lincoln leans back in his chair. Our joined hands slide off the tabletop to swing casually between us. “No, that would only attract unnecessary attention.”
Octavia wags a finger at her son. “Be sure to wear full demon patrol gear: body armor, baculum, daggers…”
Lincoln nods. “I’ll be safe, Mother.”
I stifle a grin. Glad my Mom’s not the only one with an overprotective streak.
The King rubs his chin. “And stay with her tonight.”
Octavia gasps. “Connor!”
My jaw drops. “Whoa!” First, the King thinks I’m preggers. Then, he assumes Lincoln’s sleeping in my bed? I so want to clobber this guy, it isn’t funny. I may be part lust demon, but that doesn’t mean I’m a slut. Sheesh.
The King wags his head. “I mean in a separate room, but ready for trouble.”
I close my mouth into a scowl. So, I won’t clobber him. Maybe. My blood still boils with anger.
Octavia clears her throat, trying to re-steer the conversation onto safer ground. “After the match, Lincoln will join our procession to Antrum.”
Lincoln leaves tomorrow. That thought is one massive rainstorm on my angry parade. Suddenly, I no longer think about clobbering the King. Instead, I focus on how Lincoln and I will be separated, and for who knows how long? And Antrum’s locked down so tightly, I don’t even know when or how we can connect. A heavy sadness sets into my body.
My voice comes out barely above a whisper. “That’s the plan.”
Lincoln gives my hand a squeeze. “Let’s get you back home. Did you ride Nightshade here?”
“Yes.”
“Good. She’s probably outside waiting for you now, along with Bastion.” He gently kisses my cheek. “I’ll meet you there in a minute. I have to get my stuff.”
The sadness in my heart lightens a bit. At least I’ll have Lincoln nearby until it’s time for us to part.
I say my goodbyes to Connor and Octavia, giving her an extra-long hug. This may be the last time I see her for a long while. The Queen eyes me carefully, her mental gears spinning away.
“Don’t worry,” says Octavia. “We’ll meet again, my dear.”
I force a half-smile. “I’m sure we will.” However, if I’m being honest with myself, seeing any of them again is far from a sure thing.
***
It’s dark by the time Lincoln and I near my house. Nightshade and Bastion step in perfect rhythm down the quiet streets. Sadness seeps into the air and our hearts. The two of us haven’t spoken much since leaving the royal tent.