Copper Veins(57)

“What are you doing?”

Standing over us was my father, feet planted and arms crossed, glaring at us as if we were fifteen and he’d caught us necking on the front porch. Just as I was about to remind him that I was a grown—and married—woman, Micah spoke up.

“Why have you caused other men to be interested in my wife?” he countered.

Dad frowned, so I explained, “He’s talking about Jerome Polonsky. You gave him pictures of me?”

“How else was he to know who you were?” Dad explained. “Remember, I sent him to watch over you?”

I shrugged—that was Dad, always with an answer. Frankly, though, Jerome and his apparent crush on me were non-issues in my life. “You better get inside,” I said as Micah and I got to our feet. “Mom’s furious, even for her.”

At that, Dad blanched—he was wise to fear her fury. However, this situation was all his fault. If he’d just gotten a message to her or, I don’t know, shown up to let her know he wasn’t dead or imprisoned, he wouldn’t be risking his hide to be in the same room with her. As Dad—slowly—walked inside the manor, I leaned back against Micah’s chest.

“About those bushes,” he began, then I felt his body go rigid. I followed his gaze and saw an envoy from the Golden Court approching, complete with gold warriors, approaching. My, weren’t we popular today.

“I forgot all about this pledging nonsense,” I murmured as we stood. Micah positioned me in front of him, his back to the gold warriors. “Have you been able to hold her off?”

“Only because the lot of you were missing,” Micah replied. The leader of the envoy hailed us, and Micah glared over his shoulder. “Approach no further. I trust you are aware of the consequences of your defiance.”

With that, the entire envoy halted as one, gold warriors and all. “Are they… scared of you?” I asked. I had a hard time believing that Elemental warriors were scared of anything, especially an elf and a woman in their garden.

“If they have any sense about them, they would do well to be terrified.” Micah kissed my forehead and gave me a gentle push toward the door. “Go. Have your bath. I will inform the guard that you are newly returned and attempt to stave off our queen for another day.”

“Please come inside soon.” I tried not to sound too desperate, but I didn’t do a very good job.

“I will, love.” Micah tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “I will not be separated from you again. On that, you have my word.” With that, he kissed my hand and went to speak with the gold warriors. I stepped inside the manor alone, missing him already.



My bath was, in a word, amazing. Incredible. Relaxing. Okay, that was a few words, but after wearing the same clothes for seven days and accumulating layer upon layer of ick, I’d almost given up hope of ever not smelling as foul as the hobos who skulked around the garbage heap at the Goblin Market.

Once I’d toweled off and dressed in some fabulously sparkling clean clothes, I made my way to the dining room and found Mom, Dad, Micah, Max, and Sadie sitting around the huge table. More importantly, the table was heaped with food.

“What happened with the golden boys?” I asked, sliding into the chair next to Micah. He kissed me before he replied, just as a good husband should.

“I informed them that you were newly returned from your ordeal, and begged a day’s respite,” Micah replied. “If Oriana decides against your rest, I am sure we will hear of it shortly.”

I nodded, then turned my attention toward the food. The silverkin had prepared yet another extensive feast, this one featuring comfort foods such as macaroni and cheese, pot roast, and mashed potatoes. Once I’d loaded my plate with assorted carbs, I took in the rest of the scene.

Max and Sadie, who had also bathed, were eating as though they hadn’t seen food in twenty years—man, did I know how they felt. While Sadie had chosen an ample portion of pot roast and a slice of chocolate cake nearly as big as her head, Max was working on a mound of mashed potatoes drenched in gravy along with a side of fries. Can’t have too many potato products, now can we? Mom sat beside Sadie, picking at her plate of poached fruit. Dad sat clear across the table, ignoring the food—and his wife—as he made notations on a small pad. Since everyone else was otherwise occupied, I turned back to Micah.

“Have you seen any more copper people?” I managed to ask while chewing a mouthful of roast.

“I have not,” Micah replied. “They still insist that Sadie should be crowned, but they have wisely stayed far from Oriana’s court. And,” he paused to refill my water glass, “there is still the matter of this family tree.”