Lord of the Hunt

Chapter 6




Verden lingered in the shadows, making sure Taryn walked back to the castle safely. He had no intention of returning to Court tonight. He would go and check up on a few things. With more breeches of the veil, there was more trouble and the Greys were stirred up—as were those in exile, although he didn’t blame them for wanting to live.

He shouldn’t want Taryn, yet he couldn’t stop himself.

He lifted his head and gazed at the stars, which were far brighter in Annwyn than the mortal world. An easy smile formed on his lips. The heat of her touch still hummed in his blood. The memory of her skin, pale in the morning light and the cloak of leaves wrapped around her like she was part wild fae, leading him into unknown forests, lingered like a dream after waking. She was wild and dangerous. She didn’t play by the rules because she didn’t know them. And he would follow where she led because for the first time in a very long time, he was interested in something, someone. She made him feel like rolling the dice and risking it all.

That was his mistake. He’d let lust take the place of rules and deals.

Lust got people killed or banished or exiled. Stepping on the King’s toes in public would find him stuck on the wrong side of the veil permanently.

He gave a low whistle. A few heartbeats later, a white horse paced through the trees, two hounds at her side. All animals in Annwyn obeyed his call, as he was the Hunter. He swung himself up onto the horse, his fingers threading through the pure white mane, then urged her on with his knees. She galloped toward the doorway, the one monitored by the Prince and watched by too many spies.

The hounds yipped and bounded along. With a laugh, the rider, the horse, and the dogs plunged through the doorway and into the troubled mortal world. He’d look around, check the areas where there had been problems so he could report back, and act as though he’d been working all night. While he was in the mortal world, he needed to find a deck of human cards for Taryn…

It was daylight in Annwyn when he returned, cards in hand. He eased off his horse and let her go. She whickered and then trotted away. The hounds shook themselves and he gave them both a pat before letting them run free. He’d call them if needed, but for the moment, they deserved to be just animals, not his loyal servants.

As soon as he walked into the castle, he knew something was wrong. The brittle brown leaves crunching underfoot just reinforced the sensation and tightened his gut. Instead of going to the main hall to eat, he changed course and went to the Hall of Judgment. The doors swung open before him.

People turned to see who was arriving, and the crowd quickly parted to let him through. The King was standing, his arms crossed.

The Queen was also standing, her lips pressed tightly together. She looked at Verden with undistilled hate. “I can see how well you value justice when your Hunter can’t be bothered showing up.”

Verden fixed his smile in place and gave a small bow. “Apologies. I have been across the veil. I had no idea a session had been called.”

He straightened and had a quick glance around to further appraise the situation. The Prince was to the side of the dais, with a woman kneeling at his feet—he was guarding the defendant, which should have been Verden’s job. For a heartbeat, Verden thought it was Taryn, but she was standing at the front of the crowd with the Queen’s bitch, Sulia. That was possibly worse. Sulia was clever and cunning and always looking to advance herself. Unlike Rhodia, she never played for keeps, just leverage. Sulia was scheming something, but he didn’t know what. No one did, but Verden didn’t mistake that for innocence the way a less experienced courtier would.

“The Queen has accused Darah of theft and calls for her death. Yet without proof, I will not condemn her.” The King was firm.

Verden knew exactly what this was about. Darah had stolen a mirror from the Queen for Felan, stopping the Queen’s lover from overthrowing the King. However, instead of moving on and pretending the failed plot hadn’t happened, the Queen was making it public. What was she hoping would happen? Or was she merely using Darah to prove to Felan that she knew what he’d done?

Had she so little love for her son?

For Annwyn?

For a moment, he wished he’d stayed in the mortal world. The acrimony between King and Queen was tangible, like frost on the tip of his tongue. More petals fell from the vines above.

“What would you suggest? That I let her walk freely around the Court, so she can help herself to whatever she wants?” She scanned the crowd as if looking for support.

Behind him, people murmured for her banishment even though there was no proof. The Queen still held enough sway that few would openly speak against her. Except him. He would have to step into the fray even though he’d rather distance himself.

Verden looked at Felan. This was his doing, and he’d had a hand in it because it had been the right thing to do. Yet neither of them could own up to their involvement. There was only one option.


“Perhaps the Lady Darah could be taught a lesson.” Verden widened his smile as if he liked the idea.

“Continue,” said the King. Whatever punishment he prescribed wouldn’t be enough in his wife’s eyes. And Felan couldn’t speak for the woman or be involved, not unless he wanted to become tainted. Once again it was up to him to try and keep the peace between King and Queen.

He was growing rather tired of it—yet the alternative of throwing the Court into winter was unthinkable.

“A shadow servant for a year and a day.” It was a common enough punishment. One that would save her life, but also strip her of status and force her to be part of the Court without being able to enjoy it—and she wouldn’t be able to speak the truth about what had happened.

He thought he saw her shoulders sag in relief. He could’ve condemned her, but she didn’t deserve that. He wasn’t cruel like the last Hunter.

The Queen considered Verden for a moment. He wanted to step back and get away from her. She would plot against him for not suggesting Darah’s death. He was sure there would be payback, a knife in his bed, if not between his ribs.

“Very well. Being a shadow is akin to death anyway.” She tossed her head and stepped off the dais as if she were bored with the whole affair. She brushed past but didn’t spare him a glance. Oh yeah, he was in trouble. He’d have to find a way to soothe her—although that may be more unpleasant than the payback. He’d debate his options later. Several of her Ladies followed, including Sulia. Verden held his breath, but Taryn didn’t follow. Good.

Her gaze caught his for a fraction of a heartbeat and he wanted to stop time so he could enjoy it instead of pretending he didn’t care. If the Queen knew he was spending time with Taryn, she would become the target. And if the King knew, he’d lose interest and Taryn wouldn’t get her pardon. Already Verden was longing for another trip across the veil with Taryn. He wanted to be able to drop his guard and relax.

Felan gave him a small nod, but that was as close to thanks as he was going to get.

Gradually, the others filtered out of the chamber, though a few remained to see the punishment carried out—Taryn among them.

***

She’d wanted to be invisible for most of the argument. By the time Verden had walked in—still in the clothes he’d been in last night—most of the bickering was done. It had been ugly, with neither of them budging from their original stance for fear of loss of face. She knew there was more going on than what she was seeing, but she didn’t dare ask what. Not until later. Verden would tell her. Maybe.

The cold-smiling courtier was back and looked especially grim this morning.

She stood silent as the woman knelt before the King, and he placed his hand on her head. At first nothing happened. Then there was a shimmer of darkness and the woman was gone—only her shadow remained.

Taryn gasped. Someone behind her snickered.

The King calmly placed a silver coin into his pocket and turned away to talk to his son. The shadow stood and glided away, faceless and voiceless, trapped in silent servitude for a year and a day. Taryn’s stomach rolled and she turned away, wishing she hadn’t stayed. However, curiosity had gotten the better of her. Others were leaving now that the drama was over, and she slunk away.

The more she learned here, the more she wanted to go home. And yet if she didn’t stay and succeed, she would have no home to go back to. She bit her lip and refused to let tears form. For a moment, she fought for composure, but even when she found it, it was fragile and she knew it wouldn’t hold up to the scrutiny of playing games and making false friends; she’d had enough of that this morning from Sulia.

For all the helpful advice that Sulia had offered about what was fashionable at the moment, she’d also tried to pry beyond what was polite. Sulia also held sway over several other Ladies. Taryn didn’t want to become accidentally indebted to Sulia. However, she couldn’t hide in her room, as she had to be seen.

“You walking alone?” Verden fell into step beside her.

“Not anymore.” She didn’t dare look at him in case her feelings showed in her eyes, but she felt the warmth of his body as he brushed too close against her. “You risk speaking to me?”

She’d thought they would avoid each other totally at Court. Not that she would refuse his company. It had taken her a long time to fall asleep last night—and not because she was thinking of the card game.

“You are invited back to the table for dinner. If I ignored you completely, more questions would be raised.” He stopped walking. “Don’t underestimate the Queen’s reach or obsession with causing misery.” He spoke very softly.

“You have displeased her.”

“Which I will fix.”

Taryn grimaced.

“I do what I have to, as do you.” But his eyes gave him away, the smoky gray burning with a heat he couldn’t hide. If she stepped closer, she’d be consumed—and then everyone would know.

“When can we play cards again?” In private away from here. Somewhere she could see him truly smile, where she could relax and stop pretending she knew what she was doing. But she couldn’t say that.

“Soon, I hope.”

“Until dinner then?” She gave him a small smile that she hoped was suitably formal and yet hinted at more.

“I look forward to it.” He inclined his head, but his gaze never left her. He wasn’t saying that to be polite. Then he left her standing just outside the Hall of Flowers as if they’d been discussing nothing more significant than the weather.

It was only when she went back to her room—after being shown how to play dice by a couple of men obviously seeking to win the bet that was pinned to her back like a target—that she found Verden’s gift.

Tied with a pale orange ribbon were five packs of human cards. She grinned as she undid the ribbon and opened the first pack. She thumbed the cards with their familiar suits. Never had something so mundane been so powerful.