Brooding, he drank from the glass of whiskey in his hand and stared deep into the fire. It was well past midnight, the servants were all abed, but yet he knew if he called for Giles his man would come. Still, he couldn’t do that.
A flash of pink static popped through the room and then a dragonfly-winged vision in lavender sailed through. Danika’s transformation still unnerved Rumpel. In all the time he’d known her, she’d always been a matronly, plump lady.
He wasn’t used to the svelte curves of a flower fae, not on her anyway. Blinking big blue eyes at him, she dusted off her petal gown and sighed.
“Well, old man, and how goes it?”
He smirked. “How did you know I’d be needing someone to talk with this night?”
“I may look a fool, a ravishing one mind you…” She lifted a finger and winked. “But I promise you I’m not. I’m a godmother, or have you forgotten?”
Snorting, he took a sip.
She sniffed. “Are you drunk, imp? Since when?”
“Since the moment that siren stepped foot into my castle.”
“Oh.” She chortled, grabbing hold of her stomach and plopping herself into the burgundy-and-gray-striped divan in his study. “I knew it, I knew that girl would get under your skin. Proud and mighty Rumpelstiltskin, Prince of the Air and Darkness, brought to heel by a fiery beauty, a Caron no less.” Her wings buzzed. “You do know the blood of her father runs through her veins? You stood no chance against her.” Wearing a supremely satisfied smirk, she adjusted the baby’s-breath wreath resting upon her plaited chestnut hair. “This”—she waved a hand down his body—“do you know not what it is, mate?”
“If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say I’m well and truly sprung.”
Giggling, she shook her head. “Aye, that’s one way of putting it. Tell me, have you snogged her yet?”
Thinning his lips, he gave her a sharp look. “What do you think?”
“Bit prickly that one, eh? Touching her is a bit like trying to ride lightning, no?” She winked.
“Danika, is there a point to all this?” He shook the tumbler in his hand.
“Had sex yet? And not just the fun naughty kind you can do with your clothes on. I’m talking, skin on skin.” She crammed her palms together. “Done that yet? Shown her yer true self, the one we none get to see save your most beloved?”
He glowered.
“Oh, come on, we’re among friends.” She glanced around the room. “Well, we’re alone anyway. Come on then, be honest, I won’t tell her parents.”
Slouching further in his chair, he licked his front teeth. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“Ah.” Her eyes lit up. “That would be a no.” Fluffing up her petals, she nodded. “Good.” And then she pinned him with a hard stare, turning completely serious. “It goes well for you that you did not kiss and tell. See that you don’t.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Aye.” Her burr came out fast and sharp. “She’s not unchaperoned now. Shayera Caron is officially under my charge and I’ll kill ya if ye hurt her.” Her wings buzzed furiously.
“And what if she wants it? She’s a woman, Danika.”
“Then you be completely honest with her or you let her go.”
“What?” He thinned his eyes.
“Oh,” she said and wagged her fingers, “you think you’re the only one in Kingdom with a network of spies? I have mine too, and I know what these games are really about. That is not love, imp, that is desperation and laziness. There are always ways.”
“If you know about the games, then you should know why I’m doing it, no?” He sipped from his drink, rolling the full-bodied whiskey around his mouth until it coated his tongue.
“I will not let you do it. I’ll hang back for a while, but mark my words, I will stop this charade the moment I even sniff one tiny hair on her head is in danger.”
She got to her feet, giving him a withering glare, and rather than be angry, Rumpel felt relief. Relief that Shayera had someone so powerful to battle for her. To care for her.
A pink rift in time tore before her.
“Fairy, how do you know when it’s really love?”
“If you love something, let it go. If it returns, it was always yours; if it doesn’t, it never was.”
He stared into the fire the rest of the night with the echo of her words ringing softly in his ears.
“Battleship,” Shayera cried and clapped her hands. “That’s it, isn’t it? I sank it! Ha!”
Laughing, because he still didn’t understand the ins and outs of this game, he shrugged. “I suppose you did.”
Sweeping all the pieces back into the box, he gazed at her. In the last few days they’d spent every waking moment together, eating, talking, laughing. In the mornings and at night he’d fed Euralis, and each time he did so, he felt more and more a traitor. Felt the dark gaze pierce his soul. Felt the silent accusation like a sting.
It was well past the witching hour, and they sat in his study. Well, she sat, he lounged beside her.
Her bare toes peeked out from the bottom edge of her nightgown. Wishing he could touch her, knowing he should not, he contented himself with grabbing the hem of her gown and dragging it through his fingers.