Chapter 20
“Well, now.” One of Maeve’s eyebrows arched as she looked Tamsin up and down. “Someone seems to have had anenjoyable time recently.”
Tamsin’s face heated. She was painfully aware of how disheveled she was compared to the elegant elf queen.
True to his word, Cuan had managed to make her forget all their worries for a few hours. He’d been so successful, in fact, that she’d genuinely lost track of time. When Maeve’s summons finally punctured their little love-bubble, there had barely been five minutes for Tamsin to splash her face with cold water and throw on some of Cuan’s spare clothes.
Probably doesn’t take faerie magic to guess what we’ve been doing. I must reek of sex.
She lifted her chin, facing Maeve down coolly. Let the elf queen sneer. She didn’t regret anything.
She took her place next to Maeve, smoothing her borrowed tunic over her thighs. She breathed in the faint, masculine scent that clung to the fine linen—leather and oiled metal, wood and musk.
Cuan.His scent wrapped around her like strong arms, steady and comforting.
The cold iron pressed against her skin was reassuring as well. Following Cuan’s advice, she’d fastened the collar above her right knee, like a garter. He’d reassured her that as long as she kept it out of sight, fae wouldn’t be able to tell that she was wearing it.
Nonetheless, her heart hammered against her ribs. She might be protected from glamour…but Cuan was still about to fight for their lives.
Again.
Across the hall, Cuan looked up from fastening his bracers around his forearms. He’d put his glamour back on before they’d left his room, much to Angus’s disgust. She could see the illusion shimmering around him, like a heat haze.
If she concentrated on his glamour, she could bring it into focus, seeing what the rest of the court saw. But by default, the iron showed her his real eyes. That golden gaze met hers, calm and steady.
He’s won two of these things already, she tried to reassure herself. He’ll win this one too. Everything’s going to be fine.
“My beast has done well so far,” Maeve said, as though reading her thoughts. “We are all most surprised by his victories. So unexpected. Who would have thought he had such hidden strength?”
Tamsin tucked her hands between her knees, hoping to hide how her palms were sweating.
“I never underestimated Cuan,” she replied. “But you did. Badly.”
“I quite agree.” Maeve’s red mouth curved in her vicious smile. “Which is why I have decided to give him a real challenge.”
Cuan stepped into the dueling-circle marked in the center of the hall—and froze, stiffening, as two figures came out from the crowd to meet him.
“Sir Angar. Sir Edwyn,” he said, in perfectly level tones. He inclined his head to each man in turn. “And which of you will it be my privilege to face this day?”
Long knives appeared in the two men’s hands, in a glitter of magic.
“Both of us,” the pair said in unison.
Tamsin started up, fists clenching. “What? This is meant to be single combat!”
“By our rules and customs, Angar and Edwyn are a single entity.” Maeve’s voice was as languid as ever, but her eyes glittered. “They are true mates. Bonded and fate-sworn.”
“So what? That doesn’t mean they get to gang up on Cuan!”
Maeve shrugged one slim white shoulder, taking a sip of wine. “What fate has joined, nothing may part. They stand together, always, in all circumstances. Even this one.”
Tamsin looked frantically back at Cuan. From the way his face had set in grim lines, it seemed this was indeed a valid challenge. He bowed to both men, swords appearing in his hands.
“By the way, I must thank you, little human.” Maeve lifted her wine glass in a mocking salute. “It was you who gave me this idea. So splendidly ironic, do you not think?”
Angar and Edwyn spread out, flanking Cuan. One of them—Tamsin had no idea which was which—was blond and built like a brick wall; the other, red-headed and slimmer. They both wore matching, close-fitting armor of articulated steel. They settled into position with the taut, deadly grace of praying mantises, poised to strike.
As one, Angar and Edwyn crossed their daggers in front of their chests, indicating that they were ready to begin. From the way they mirrored each other’s movements, it was obvious that they had a lot of experience fighting together.