“Yes. I’ll do it for you. I have—had some on my bedroom door at the Carlin’s palace.”
“Thank you.” He smiled at me, threading his fingers through mine. “You’re—um, officially invited, I guess?”
I huffed in amusement and stepped over the threshold with him. My lip curled as I took in the Brid’s private chambers. The little front room we were in was even gaudier than the rest of the palace, cluttered with gold furniture and jewelled trinkets.
Ash didn’t seem interested in any of it as he crossed the room and opened the double doors to reveal her bedroom. His nose wrinkled before he disappeared into the room. I quickly followed him.
A gigantic bed took up most of the far wall, its four posts draped in thick gold fabric. I wandered over to the bedside table and picked up the book resting there, snorting when I flicked it open and realised it was a book of doting poetry about the Brid.
The room was dim, heavy forest green curtains still drawn over the windows. There was a wide bookcase next to the door leading to the Brid’s dressing room, and Ash had gravitated towards it.
“Anything worthwhile?” I asked as I went over to join him, kissing his shoulder as I peered over at the book in his hands.
“Maybe. Lots of books about spellsmiths or…” He squinted at the page. “Wordcraft? Is that really what it’s called?”
I nodded, slipping my hand beneath his shirt to palm his back. “No harm in taking the books. We can ask Jora to deliver them to our room, or the library.”
He nodded, setting it back on the shelf. “Did you find anything else?”
“Not yet.” I stepped away to wander around the room again. It smelled cloyingly sweet in here, mixed with a musty, earthy scent that I suspected was her King of Boars.
There was a display of different musical instruments in one corner, and a huge portrait of the Brid taking up half of one wall. Ash exhaled and looked around with his hands on his hips.
“I really don’t want to go through all of this. I don’t even know what I’m looking for.”
“Why don’t we ask Jora to take the books and that trunk—” I pointed at the huge, ornate trunk at the foot of the Brid’s bed, “—to our room to go through later?”
He nodded, walking over to me. “And I’ll ask Nua to come and look. He’ll be able to find anything we should keep.”
He leaned in and kissed me, then tugged on my hand to lead us towards the door. “Come on, I feel rude keeping the jeweller waiting.”
We left the Brid’s chambers and started heading through the palace towards the throne room.
“I’m really nervous,” Ash whispered, his hand a little damp in mine.
“It’s just a meeting with the jeweller.” I squeezed his hand. “He will spend it simpering over you and agreeing with everything you say. Don’t be worried.”
He choked out a little laugh. “I don’t want people simpering over me and agreeing with everything I say.”
“Well, get used to it,” I muttered before pushing open the door that led to the throne room from the private part of the palace.
The jeweller was already waiting, pacing and fidgeting nervously a short distance from the throne. He was a tall, rake-thin seelie driath with moss growing on his arms and neck, signifying his old age. He straightened up instantly, though his back was still slightly hunched, then dipped into a deep bow.
“King Ash, it is an honour.”
Ash cleared his throat as he led me over to the throne. “Nice to meet you.”
He hesitated in front of the single seat, chewing on his lower lip as he glanced at me worriedly.
I gave him a tiny hidden smile. “I’m happy to stand.”
“Okay, but we’re getting you a throne as soon as possible,” he muttered, hesitating again before slowly settling in the seat.
As I placed myself beside his throne and clasped my hands together behind my back, I noticed his eyes kept darting to a spot on the floor to our left.
I followed his gaze, seeing nothing, but when I glanced back at him, I noticed he was pale and his eyes looked haunted. I swallowed, wanting fervently to lean down and wrap him in my arms. I settled for briefly placing my hand on his shoulder and squeezing before removing it again.
He shot me a quick, grateful smile before sighing and focusing on the jeweller. “Sorry we’re late. So, my crown, right?”