Estrid places the chair against the wall before she sits in it, leaning her axe against the wall next to her. Val carries a cup of tea over to her, then starts examining a bookshelf. Senach waits by the curtained door. Mór and I take the chairs around the table. Constantín walks around the room and pokes at the bookshelves, examining books and trinkets alike. We haven’t been seated for very long when Blackthorn walks in. He pauses, taking us all in. Senach smoothly steps behind him to block the doorway.

Blackthorn smiles. “Is this all of you agreeing to my job?”

“We’ll consider the job when you tell us what it is,” Mór says.

“I need something stolen,” he says.

“And that would be?”

Blackthorn takes his time pouring a cup of tea for himself. “The Summer Jewel,” he says, stepping away from the table. He watches us as he drinks, then smiles crookedly. “None of you know it? It’s something very precious, and it was stolen from me by Alasdrann Firestone. I want it back.”

I roll my head towards Mór. She looks to Val. He leans against a bookshelf, finger tapping his chin as he considers. After a moment he nods. Mór stands, beckoning for us to follow. Estrid, Constantín, and Val immediately do so. Senach steps aside so they can leave, then resumes his position in front of the doorway. Still in my chair, I look Blackthorn over slowly. He smiles back pleasantly, giving me the same shallow bow as before. I stand before he can rise, pushing his bow lower.

“I am still a prince,” I say softly.

“You are an exiled prince,” he replies, just as soft. He smiles up at me. “And you have not been living like a prince, unless you have been comparing yourself to Galan the Dragonheart.”

I narrow my eyes at him, then walk by. Senach watches Blackthorn as I leave, then follows before I can let the curtain go. Again, we pass by that same pair of ladies looking at books. They stare at us from between shelves this time, neither looking away when I glance at them. I hear Dál Macha and our names whispered furiously between them once Senach and I have passed. When we’re outside, down on the street in front of the tea shop with Mór and the others, I look to him curiously.

“They were arguing about who we are,” he says. “The one who blushed yesterday is very sure. Her friend isn’t quite convinced.”

I consider. “They’re beautiful. Both of them. We could—”

“Come,” Mór interrupts, like she’s calling a dog to heel.

“We could come back,” I say to Senach, walking in the opposite direction she indicates. He follows. “Introduce ourselves to them.”

“Are you going to charm a noblewoman into hosting us?” he asks dryly.

I grin. “It’s an option.”

“And if they’re married? Tsernia has stricter views.”

“I think you’re the only one who didn’t bed anyone from the last Tsernian delegation in Dál Macha. And they were all married.”

He examines a glassblower’s shop. “The ambassador’s wife. Before you did.” I stare at him. He smiles when he looks at me. “She told me she wanted to take both of us to bed.”

“Oh, yes, she told me the same,” I reply, feeling more indignant than surprised now. “I wished her luck in getting you to bed, too! I always wondered why she laughed when I said that.”

Senach shakes his head. “The night we were together, she asked if I’d be mad if she went after you next. I told her not to tell you she had.” He pauses, smirking as he leans closer. “Before she left, though, she lamented about not having time to convince us into bed together with her.”

I open my mouth, then shut it. I stare at him and he doesn’t look away. “She never told me that. Would you have said yes?”

“Do you know why she was so mad when boarding the ship?” I shake my head. “It was because I told her I would have said yes.”

Shock makes me stop walking to goggle after him. He laughs as he continues on. “Senach!” I call. He stops, looking back with a lazy grin. “You—” Spirits, I don’t even know what to say. “We have to talk with Mór and the others,” I say quickly.

“Oh, now he remembers,” she says behind me. I spin around to find all four of them have followed us, and Mór glaring at me.

I hum, eyeing her before turning to chase after Senach. “Should we say yes to Blackthorn?”

Mór appears on Senach’s other side. “Yes,” she snaps at me. “We will.”

“We don’t get a vote, then,” I murmur to Senach. He rolls his eyes.

“We’re familiar with Alasdrann Firestone already,” Mór says. “Trust me. This will be an easy job for you, and then you two can go on your way.”

I look at Senach. He shrugs. I nod to Mór. She sighs and turns down a side street. Senach and I fall into step with Estrid and Constantín to follow her, but Val continues on and disappears down an alley. I lean into Senach’s side, looking at the shops and homes we pass by. Senach pauses by a blacksmith once, nodding to himself when we continue following Mór. She takes us to a small cottage with a large loft, latching the door behind us. A table sits in a corner, four chairs around it. Senach and Constantín each claim a chair as Estrid walks into the small kitchen, grabbing a jug and cups. Mór follows her, filling a small platter with cheese, bread, meat, and dried fruit. She sets it in the center of the table while Estrid fills the cups. I take one and sit, leaving one chair free. Mór looks to Estrid, but the big woman shakes her head and sprawls on the floor next to a pile of furs.

“Alasdrann Firestone came to Cernna about two years ago,” Mór says as she sits. “He hosts large parties in spring and summer, but only private dinners in autumn and winter. Val’s mapped out his home a few times already. It’s rumored he has a large treasure room. If he does, that’s where he’s hiding the Summer Jewel.”

I drink some of the cider as Senach eats some of the meat. “Does Val know which room it is?” I ask.

“He’ll return when he knows,” she replies.

“How are we to get in? If he has a treasure room, he’ll have guards,” Senach says.

“We’ll wait for Val to return,” Mór says.

She says no more than that, no matter how Senach and I press her. Constantín lays his head on the table, while Estrid silently stands eventually to pilfer bread, cheese, and meat from the table before sitting again. Senach stares at me as the silence continues. I smile back at him, stretching my legs out to kick his chair gently as I bring up the Tsernian delegation and the ambassador’s wife again. Mór rolls her eyes at us, but Senach shares no details of the night he bedded the ambassador’s wife and likewise won’t share if he bedded anyone else while they were in Dál Macha. He steers the conversation to the bookshop and the two ladies we’d glimpsed in it, but Mór and Estrid can only shake their heads when we ask them about the ladies. Constantín has no answer either, too busy sleeping.

Val returns in the early afternoon, slipping in through a window along the loft. He brings a rolled up scroll as he comes down, spreading the scroll out along the table and weighing it down with our cups. He makes notations to adjust his previous sketch as he tells us of Lord Alasdrann Firestone’s home. Here are the kennels, here are the barracks for the guard, here are the stables. Here is the main entrance, and there a servants’ door that leads to the kitchens. A nimble climber can get inside through this window. Senach quizzes him on the guards—do they patrol and how frequently do they walk the estate? What did the servants carry in today? Oh, venison and pig and lamb. Bushels of vegetables and baskets of fruit. Ceramic jugs by the cartload. Mór and Senach talk Val in circles until I stand abruptly, straightening my coat as I walk to the door.

“Where are you going?” Senach asks.

“To speak with Blackthorn again. We might be able to go in the front door.”

“What makes you think so?” Estrid asks. She sits with her head tilted back now, eyes closed.

“He’s planning some sort of party. Something’s happened that bucks his trend of only private dinners in winter,” I reply. “I’d wager Blackthorn knows all about it.”

Senach looks to Mór. “Plan something for us walking into the party, and make a second plan for us to break in. I’ll go with Bridei.”

Val tells us where to find Blackthorn’s own home as we leave, and we follow his directions in silence to a large, gated home where carriages drop finely dressed guests off. We look each other over, Senach adjusting my coat once, and then walk up the pebbled way, weaving between the carriages. For the amount of finery on display, it’s terribly easy to sneak into Blackthorn’s home. It reminds me of when Senach and I would escape the castle for the Lower City, slipping in behind a group of loud, drunk people to follow them into whatever place would be hosting them next. We do so now, walking close to a group of giggling ladies escorted by lords who try to appear older than they are by looking as dour as possible. Those posted at the door wave us all in without a second glance. Senach shakes his head as we part from the group. I smile at him, taking two glasses of a deep purple drink from a passing servant.

Senach sniffs at the drink, then gives me a dismayed look when I drink half of my glass immediately. “Tastes good,” I tell him.

“You need to be more cautious,” he complains.

“No one’s ever tried to poison me before. Stop pretending someone’s going to here.”

“Never happened before does not mean will never happen.”

I roll my eyes, glancing around the room. Senach stands close, whispering in my ear of those who pass by us. A lord flirts with his dance partner and her responses hold only boredom. Two ladies hiding their faces behind fans giggle as they pass us. I smile at them. Their giggling gets worse. Senach tells me their guesses as to my identity and marital status.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“I’m too much yours for them to have me,” I say. He leans back to frown at me. His beautiful summer sky eyes stand out in this ballroom. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says, but he still looks puzzled. Still, he leans in again to tell me of the man stumbling over asking for a loan, and the woman desperately looking for someone not her husband. He pauses, glancing around, then whispers in my ear of the two ladies we saw in the bookshop. They stare at us, and don’t look away when I meet their gazes. One snaps her fan up to hide most of her face. Her companion drinks from her glass, nodding along to whatever’s being said. One of them wears purple, the other green. Lace spills from the sleeves of their dresses, along the necklines to frame their bosoms.

I start walking towards them before Senach’s even finished pointing them out. He sighs and follows. The one in purple’s eyes widen over her fan. She looks to her companion, fan snapping closed. Her companion’s head tilts to the side, gaze sliding past me and going to Senach. We bow when we reach them, and I grin as I straighten. They both look wary now, and I soften my grin.

“Forgive me for approaching you so, but I’ve only just recently arrived in Cernna and I know—”

“You’re Prince Bridei, aren’t you?” the one in purple asks. “Last Prince of the Uí Ímair and whatnot?”

And whatnot. My smile freezes as I try to adjust my approach. “I am,” I say slowly. “And might I have your name, my lady?”

She stares at me for a long time. Her friend has to elbow her gently before she replies. “Aurora,” she says.

“Lady Aurora of Mistwell,” her friend in green corrects. Aurora wrinkles her nose up, then fans herself lightly as she looks away. She almost looks bored now.

“And you?” I ask her companion.

“Lady Felicity of Foxhall,” Aurora answers for her, looking at me again. She looks me over, wary again. “Is it true you were exiled?”

Felicity sighs. “Who is your companion, your highness?” she asks.

“Senach,” I answer, before glancing at Aurora. “He’s no longer a dragon knight, and I am no longer a prince.” The noise he lets out is very quiet, but still annoyed. “You may call me Bridei.”

Aurora and Felicity stare at both of us. “I told you he was the Dál Machan prince,” Aurora tells Felicity after a moment, almost smirking. She drops the expression quickly when she sees my smile. “Why were you exiled?”

“I killed someone,” I say, blunt as she is.

Her eyes widen. “Should you not have been executed, then?”

Felicity struggles to contain her next sigh, drinking deeply from her glass. “Princes aren’t typically executed, dear,” she says.

“No, only exiled,” Aurora replies. “How did you meet Taran?”

I struggle to remember that as Blackthorn’s name. “He sent me an invitation.”

“Did he?” she asks curiously. “What animal did you get?”

I turn to Senach. “What animal did we get?”

He sighs, but Aurora giggles before he can reply. “Dolphins,” Felicity supplies with her own smile. “If anyone else asks you.”

“And don’t drink that,” Aurora says, taking my glass from my hands when I lift it. I frown at her. Senach can’t quite hide his laugh, and passes his own glass to Felicity when she holds out her hand. “He’s Fair Folk, did you know that?” Aurora continues as they set our glasses on a windowsill. “The purple is his fey wine. You’ll be queer with it all night if you keep drinking, and possibly beyond that. Although Senach might be fine. You have a bond with a dragon, don’t you? That’s what it means to be a dragon knight, correct? I’m sure your dragon would protect you from the fey wine. Or, well, have you met any of the Fair Folk on Dál Macha? Nothing I’ve read of Dál Macha says if the Fair Folk visit there. Everything I have is all about your dragons. Oh! Would you tell me about your dragon, Senach? I’ve always wanted to meet one.”

And on she goes, not even waiting for Senach to reply as she talks about the different scrolls and books she’s read of dragons. Ours on Dál Macha, the ones in the Far North, dragons to the south and east. Dragons rumored to be farther west than Dál Macha make her ask us about what trade agreements we have in Dál Macha with other lands. Felicity pays her words no mind, passing us glasses full of a light pink wine.

“Better for you than the fey wine,” she murmurs under Aurora’s rambling.

I nod, but I can’t stop staring at Aurora. “Why dolphins?” I blurt out, interrupting Aurora’s thoughts on the delights and curiosities to be found in Nyvhael.

She blinks at me, then looks away. When no one speaks, she glances back at us—then stares when she realizes I’ve yet to look away from her. “You’ll be in the same room as us,” she says softly.

“What of Blackthorn?” Senach asks.

She waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, he flits from room to room like a hummingbird. He must play at being human, as we are. Not many here know he’s Fair Folk. Although, I think he is only a child of them, or descendant. His ears aren’t as pointed as theirs, and he’s not quite got their gift for magic. It’s easier for him to hide amongst us than others.”

Senach and I glance at each other. I can’t recall Blackthorn’s ears being pointed, and Senach shakes his head to my unasked question. I drink my wine as Aurora asks Felicity about the time they saw Blackthorn at some nobleman’s party. The pink wine tastes of strawberries and I eye the glasses of the dark purple wine on the windowsill before I make an excuse to leave the ladies and wander the room. Senach hovers, drinking his wine slowly. I drink mine quickly, then take another glass of the purple wine again. He gives me a disapproving look, but says nothing as he takes his own and sips at it. Much the same as when he’d find me drinking on the walls of the castle and share the bottle with me. At least I’m never quite alone when I make these decisions.

Aurora’s hummingbird comparison is an apt one. Senach and I avoid Blackthorn as we watch him slip from guest to guest. He has an easy smile for everyone, never once seeming annoyed with someone who approaches him. Some stare after him as he leaves their side. Few he returns to. If Senach and I lose sight of him, it never takes us long to find him again. And if Aurora speaks true, we’ll see him again in whatever room having a dolphin on our invitation means.

I lead Senach over to a window, leaning against the wall next to it. He stands close enough to murmur to me of the guests that pass by us as I watch Blackthorn. He wraps some of my hair around his fingers as he talks, eyes half-lidded and his head against the wall. The more Blackthorn flits around the room, the more the talk centers on him. His guests question who he sleeps with, the private dinners he’s been invited to lately, why he has yet to court anyone. I watch Blackthorn as he moves through them. Our gazes meet once and his eyes widen in momentary surprise before he smiles and looks away. A nobleman starts to approach me, and I stare at him until he decides better of it and finds someone else to occupy his time.

Dusk is slipping into night when Blackthorn calls for everyone to follow their animals. Senach and I exchange puzzled looks as we push away from the wall, then he nods towards Aurora and Felicity. They walk down a hallway arm in arm, Aurora tapping her fan against one palm. We follow them and I pick up another glass of the purple wine as we go. Senach looks me over, then snorts as he points to the wall. I look over, frowning at the wall until I see what he’s noticed—the wall is divided into panels with edges of sculpted, silvery-blue waves that dolphins leap from. Ahead of us, Aurora and Felicity pause at a crossing before turning to the left. When Senach and I reach it, we examine the walls quickly. Foxes come from the right and lead ahead of us. We turn left, as Aurora and Felicity had done, walking until we find a doorway surrounded by leaping dolphins.

We find ourselves in an informal dining room, food spread around one large table and couches resting against the walls. Senach looks at the food warily, then stares at me. I snort and gesture for him to go first. He walks around the table slowly, looking at all the food. He glances up at me every so often, considering something. I drink my wine and meet his gaze steadily. All of the food is cut into small bites, little forks and spoons resting in between every dish, and as I watch, Senach picks up meat roasted with fruit. He continues his circle of the table as he eats it. I stay where I am, waiting for him. Somebody starts nattering on at my side, but I ignore them. Senach smirks when they scoff and walk away. As he returns to my side, he picks up a little square of something battered and fried. I lean forward when he holds it up to me, neither of us looking away as I eat it from his fingers.

He stares at me for a moment more, then turns away. I’m almost dizzy as I stare at his back. I trail after him slowly, picking up another of the fried squares he fed me. Crab, creamy and cheesy with a light spiciness. Felicity appears at his side suddenly, meeting his gaze directly as she reaches around him. He stops and steps back enough to allow her to reach the table, still close enough that her arm brushes against his chest as she steps up. I pause and watch them. Senach doesn’t smile. He doesn’t like new people enough to even feign niceties. But he is faintly amused by Felicity’s forwardness as he looks down at her. She says something softly. He nods in agreement and replies just as soft. I drink more wine as they begin to walk around the room together.

“Do you know anyone here?”

I look down. Aurora stands there, head cocked to the side. She glances at the purple wine in my glass but says nothing. “I’ve met Blackthorn,” I say.

“And yet you aren’t familiar enough to call him Taran and you came tonight with no invitation,” she replies. She links her arm with mine and steers me into walking. “Why are you here?”

“I need to speak with him. How long until he comes here?”

“He doesn’t have a schedule,” she answers dryly, giving me a sidelong glance. “Why would one of the Fair Folk bind himself so?”

I shrug. She smiles a little, then starts telling me about the others in the room. Multiple people invited to the party are indebted to Lord Nioclás, but Blackthorn is not amongst those indebted. No, just as many are indebted to him for one reason or another. When asked, all struggle to explain their fey bargains. No, Nioclás isn’t Fair Folk. I grow bored of hearing about Nioclás and lead her into telling me about someone else. She knows a surprising amount about everyone in the room, very little of it gossip. I learn tastes in books and activities, who frequents the playhouses, who is married and who is not.

She reminds me of a hummingbird herself with how she bounces from person to person, pausing to fall in and out conversations as we pass people she smiles at. I study her during those quick conversations. For the ones she genuinely likes, she hovers by the food to allow them a moment to notice me—I don’t realize that’s what’s happening until the third person to directly ask her who I am. That one sounds mildly protective, but Aurora smiles brightly at her as I’m introduced. There are few she barely doesn’t frown at, a few she slowly warms to. She speaks stiffly with one man. I keep the introduction brief and ask her about a painting on the far wall, walking her away before he can say anything more. That makes her brighten again quickly, and she tells me the tale of a legendary ship that ferries the dead.

I have the sudden burning desire to know what she talks about when alone with someone.

I need to steal Senach from Felicity before I follow Aurora around all night.

As I make some excuse and step from her side, Blackthorn enters the room. I go to his side immediately, glaring another nobleman off. “Bridei,” Blackthorn says warmly when he sees me. “I’m glad to see you here.”

“Truly?”

“Truly. I like you.”

I hum. “Have you received any invitations from Alasdrann Firestone?”

He refills my glass with more of the dark purple wine. “Why do you ask?”

“If we agree to help you, can you get us inside with the invitation?”

“I would not mind trying to do so,” he answers, taking up a glass of the fey wine for himself. “It sounds fun.”

“That is not a yes,” I say.

“I know.”

I sigh, glancing at Senach and Felicity as I pick up a fork and stab at a roasted potato. He watches us intently. “We aren’t agreeing unless you can get us in through the front door,” I say.

Blackthorn glances at me. “Are you in charge of everyone, then?”

I manage not to wince. “No, but I am the one who was sent to negotiate with you.”

He stares at me. “I don’t like that I can’t tell when you’re lying,” he says softly. I stare at him as I drink more wine. My silence wins out as he sighs. “I cannot get all of you in with me, and I will need to speak to the others about this. Meet me again tomorrow.” He pauses, smiling softly. “I hope you enjoy your night, Prince Bridei.”

My protest dies on my tongue as he walks away. I’ve only taken two steps myself when Senach appears at my side. “We’re meeting him again tomorrow,” I tell him.

He takes my glass and drinks from it. I lean into his side as he offers the glass back. “Shall we leave?” he asks as I drink what remains in the glass. His hand comes to rest against my lower back, steadying me already.

“No,” I say, draping my arm over his shoulder. “I want to see who here is interested in an exiled prince.”

“Besides Aurora?”

I smile a little. “Besides her. Felicity seems interested in you, though.”

“She is. I like her, too. She’s very direct for being Tsernian. If we’re staying, might I suggest drinking something other than fey wine?”

“You may,” I answer softly. How interested in Felicity is he? I don’t voice the question as he takes the empty glass from my hand, setting it on the table without leaving my side or removing his hand from my back. “Do you think I’m going to fall over?” I ask instead. “I haven’t drunk that much.”

“Reassuring myself,” he answers, placing a glass of something honey-colored in my hand. “Who shall we speak with first?”

“Nioclás,” I say, toying with his short, dark hair. “Half this room is indebted to him, did you hear?”

Senach smiles.