Leaving Conclave Hall, Bastien walked through town. He stopped to talk to people here and there. Everyone was at work, readying for war. All available hands strung bows and notched feathers in arrows. Blacksmiths were on extra duty to fill the armory with swords, daggers, and battle-axes. Seamstresses cobbled together leather armor to help protect the soldiers, and extra hands were in the fields harvesting as much food as possible to feed the troops. Hunting parties raided nearby areas outside the cloak, and meats were salted and smoked for transportation to the troops at Camp Rosethorn.
Bastien went straight to the military compound at the edge of town and checked on the contingent of men who’d been left behind for protection. He watched their training exercises and when he could delay it no longer, he sought out Thalia.
Crossing the large courtyard framed by barracks, Bastien headed back toward town. He’d set Thalia up in a larger home than his so that she, Amell, and Heph could each have a bedroom although Kieran reported that the Dark Fae never seemed to sleep. Bastien wanted Thalia to be comfortable and have space to work.
Just as he stepped onto the sidewalk, someone blocked his path and brought him up short. He blinked, surprised to see Merrilyn looking up at him, a basket of dried herbs hanging from the crook of her elbow.
“Hello, Bastien.” Her tight smile was forced.
“Merrilyn,” he acknowledged curtly. He looked around and didn’t see anyone nearby waiting for her. “What are you doing here?”
She shrugged. “Just delivering some herbs from my garden to the apothecary. I saw you walking and thought I’d say hello.”
Bastien relaxed slightly as it didn’t seem to be an ambush. “Are you doing well?”
Her face screwed up in distaste. “Do you mean, how am I doing since you unceremoniously dumped me? I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
Bastien could tell in just those few words that she was not fine and was itching for a fight. He supposed he had it coming—he hadn’t given her much opportunity to try to hash things out when he broke things off. But once Bastien made up his mind about something, there would be no dissuading him, and further conversations were a waste.
He wasn’t about to engage her now. He tipped his head respectfully. “It was good to see you.”
Stepping past her, he ignored the curse she lobbed his way. And while he wasn’t suffering any guilt or regret for breaking things off, he was truly sorry that her feelings were hurt. He just didn’t have time right now to soothe them.
He had a war to win.
Bastien strode down the block and hung a right. Ahead he could see the cottage Thalia had moved into. He gritted his teeth to see Amell walking out, the Dark Fae’s eyes already locked on him. Somehow the bastard knew he was coming and clearly wanted a private word.
Bastien stopped where he was and let Amell approach him. A couple walking along the sidewalk scurried across the street. Amell was an imposing figure who naturally struck fear in others.
Word had gotten around town there was a fae in Vyronas, but it was kept secret who he actually was. It would cause a panic that the king of the Underworld was here, and no matter how faithful the people of Clairmont may be, they didn’t want to risk that particular fact getting back to Ferelith. The only people who knew Amell’s true identity were Bastien, Thalia, Heph, and Kieran, and Bastien intended to keep it that way. Not even the Conclave would know.
Amell stopped in front of Bastien, who nodded toward the cottage. “Is Thalia in there?”
The Dark Fae crossed his arms over his chest. “She is, but I would have a word with you first.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little soon to be playing the concerned father?” Bastien taunted.
An evil grin flashed back at him. “If I were truly the concerned father you think I am, I would have reduced you to ash and tossed your soul into the Crimson River for eternal torment.”
Bastien almost laughed at the angel, but he refrained. He didn’t want the Dark Fae to ever think he liked him.
Because he didn’t.
He was grateful, however, for the help he was giving, so he made sure to not overtly antagonize. But once Amell left Thalia’s life, Bastien hoped he’d stay away forever.
“My daughter loves you a great deal, and I can’t figure out why,” Amell mused.
Bastien struck a casual pose, resting his forearm on the hilt of his sword. “She’s not your daughter.”
“Semantics. But I’m here now helping her, and I wish to see her happy. I cared for her mother.”
Bastien snorted. “How could you care for a woman you didn’t even know?”
Amell looked aggrieved and pounded his fist on his chest. His tone was sarcastic. “That really hurts… your lack of faith in me.”