“Pity.” Dubheasa drummed her fingers along her biceps, brows knitting in silent contemplation.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Irina reminded the queen. “Why do you want an invitation?”
Dubheasa sniffed. “A lady likes to feel wanted.”
Patricio’s deep voice boomed through the large space. “You aren’t wanted.”
Dubheasa met the angel’s eyes, the edges of her dress curling up into wisps of smoke that seemed more alive than they ought to. Tension buzzed in a sharp spike, raising the hairs on Adonis’ arms. The angel’s sword remained sheathed at his side, but he didn’t need a weapon to threaten the peace. His utter lack of political finesse and his inconvenient temper were more than a match for whatever efforts were made to keep things civil. Let him make himself a target if he wanted to. Perhaps a good smack from the Unseelie queen was precisely what he needed.
Adonis sank onto the couch, scooping up his abandoned whiskey and bracing himself for the final nail in the coffin of peace. He paused with the glass halfway to his lips, offered it to Ivy who had been pulled to the couch beside him by the wing he still held wrapped around her. She waved away the whiskey, her eyes still locked on Patricio, her breath still.#p#分页标题#e#
Kirill suddenly stepped forward, black cloak flaring gently behind him. “Your Majesty, do allow me to apologize for our utter failure to show you the welcome that you so deserve. I assure you, if I had known you would be visiting us, I would have taken steps to make certain everyone had a better understanding of the etiquette these rare and momentous occasions call for.”
He looked at Patricio, then glanced from Marcela to Dubheasa. The message was clear. If Dubheasa got angry enough, if the contract of host and guest was broken, it wouldn’t be Patricio who suffered most. It would be his wife.
Patricio clenched his teeth, but held his tongue.
A remarkable victory for the vampire. Adonis downed the rest of the whiskey and flopped back against the couch. I’m too old for this.
Kirill returned his full focus to Dubheasa. “Tell me, Your Majesty. What can we do to make you feel…wanted?”
Dubheasa preened under the blatant flattery, her hands fluttering about her dress like a virgin smoothing her nightgown on her honeymoon. “I’m so very pleased you asked—finally. What I want is quite simple. I want a position in this realm. Not just an invitation to live here, but a position with influence.”
Kirill didn’t move a muscle, his expression completely and carefully blank. “What kind of influence?”
“Well, obviously I will be recognized as a monarch in my own right, for my people.”
Kirill nodded once.
“And I want to suggest candidates for future invitations. I have so many wonderful ideas and I know such interesting people.”
Kirill's left eye twitched, and a nervous laugh escaped Adonis. “I’m sure we can work something out,” he offered quickly, the whiskey massaging his tense muscles with expert efficiency. “A suggestion can’t hurt, can it, Kirill?”
“You may suggest candidates,” Kirill agreed in a low voice. “But all candidates must continue to be reviewed by this council. Is that acceptable?”
Dubheasa beamed. “Quite.” She quit fussing with her dress and clapped her hands together, holding her spine straight as she gave the room a final once over. “Well then, I’ll leave you to your little discussion with my children.” She put a hand on Marian’s shoulder, leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “Enjoy yourself, dear, and do join me for tea tomorrow.”
Marian smiled, real affection in her eyes as she looked at the tempestuous monarch. “I will.”
Dubheasa winked at Robin and then swept out of the room with a flourish. No one spoke, no one moved as her footsteps faded down the hall.
A few minutes later, Kirill sighed. “She has passed through the wards.”
Like a feral dog just let off his leash, Patricio stormed forward, blue eyes locked on Robin. “I want him gone.”
Irritation sparked inside Adonis and he glared at Patricio without rising from the couch. “No. He is staying.” He tightened his jaw and leaned forward to set his empty glass on the floor before rising. “Robin hasn’t done anything wrong. There’s no reason to—”
“He brought that woman here!” Patricio bellowed. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the urge to draw his sword clear in the twitching of the muscle in his arm. “She could have killed Marcela.”
“He had no choice!” Adonis stepped closer to Patricio, drawing energy from the astral plane and feeding it into his physical form. Slowly, he began to grow, bones lengthening, muscles stretching. “He made a bargain to save the woman he loves. Tell me, who in this room wouldn’t have made that same bargain if it meant saving the woman they loved? The man they loved?”#p#分页标题#e#