“And I you.” Dubheasa stepped closer to Saamal, her focus so intense as to suggest that for now, everyone else in the room had ceased to exist. “I am a great admirer of your work.” She paused, a line appearing between her thin, arching eyebrows. “Your earlier work. Lately you’ve been rather tame, if you want to know the truth.”
Saamal continued swirling his wine, the liquid clinging to the sides of the glass in blood red streaks. “Have I?”
The queen bobbed her head without hesitation, meandering around the couch between Saamal’s chair and the line of windows. “Oh, yes. It was understandable when your lovely bride to be was under the curse—far be it for me to fault someone for being a little boring while half their energy is going to keeping someone else alive.” She dropped down into the matching wingback chair directly beside him, her shadowy skirts writhing around her.
“But she’s awake now,” Dubheasa continued, “and far from being a drain on your power, she’s come into her own, returning not only your power, but lending you hers as well.” She sat back in the chair, drumming her fingers on the arm as she considered Saamal. She looked like someone who’d just purchased a new painting and found she didn't like it as much as when she chose it. “I had hoped to see grand things from you, but you continue to disappoint.”
Saamal tilted his head, one eyebrow rising slightly in amusement. “I’m sorry to hear that, Your Majesty. I can only hope your disappointment does not continue moving into the future.”
A memory popped into Adonis’ head. The last meeting the council had held to invite a couple into the realm, a pirate and his wife the voodoo queen. The pirate had a deep-seated mistrust of deities, and he’d been none too pleased to find out Saamal held a contract of service over him. The ensuing confrontation had been far too memorable. Images danced through Adonis’ consciousness. Saamal standing before the pirate, his power soaking into the room like alcohol into the bloodstream. An impromptu demonstration of why they called him the Jaguar King and the Black God.#p#分页标题#e#
For just a moment, everyone in the room had been reminded that the man who’d always been the calmest, most level-headed among them, was in fact a deity who had overseen human sacrifice for more years than any of them had been alive—combined.
If the tension in the room was anything to judge by, Adonis wasn’t the only one reflecting on the brief change in Saamal. Robin shifted his weight, moving closer to Marian without actually getting in front of her. Etienne’s brown eyes had grown lighter, not quite the gold of his wolf form, but growing closer. Patricio’s hand dropped to the hilt of his sword, toying with the end of the metal in a way he was prone to when he was thinking of beheading someone. Kirill was as silent as the grave and at some point he’d stepped back into his corner, melting into the shadows.
“Oh dear, death god, I do believe you’ve frightened them rather badly.” Dubheasa raised her hands, fluttered her fingers against each other with a nervous energy that said she’d barely refrained from clapping. “Is it possible that I’ve missed something? Have you been terribly naughty?” Her attention bounced around the room like a child’s whose parents had told her someone in the room has her birthday present.
Adonis dug deep, found his voice. “Nonsense, no one here is frightened of Saamal, my goodness.” The drink table beckoned to him from its little niche on the right side of the fireplace. Whiskey twinkled like liquid gold in the firelight, promising laughter and good times. “What a rubbish host I am,” he said, perhaps a little too loudly. He turned to Robin and Marian and gestured to the couch that sat opposite the wingback chairs where Saamal and Dubheasa were seated. “Where are my manners? Please, come in, have a seat. Let me get you a drink.”
Robin, bless his heart, took the hint. “That sounds lovely, a drop of the creature is the very thing needed on this chilly night.” He put a hand on the small of Marian’s back, urging her forward. “Let’s go chat with Mother, shall we?”
Marian tightened her grip on her bow as if battling the urge to brain everyone she passed on her way around the couch. She relaxed a little when she finally sat opposite Dubheasa, a real smile spreading over her lips as she looked at the Unseelie queen.
Never thought I’d see anyone who was actually comforted by Dubheasa’s presence.
“I’m so pleased to finally have you both here—all here,” Adonis corrected himself quickly.” He poured a few glasses of whiskey and held them as carefully as he could in his left hand, with one in his right ready to hand out. Passing Kirill—who he knew wouldn’t take a drink because he’d want his hands free for weapons—he offered the one in his right hand to Etienne. The werewolf hadn’t moved from his spot directly in front of the fireplace, seemingly held in place by the new arrivals that now surrounded him. After spending that long that close to the fire, his back had to be burning, but beyond a slight flush in his neck, Etienne showed no signs the heat was getting to him. He nodded grudgingly to Adonis and took the glass, knocking it back in one pull.