Once Broken Faith (October Daye #10)(32)

Right. “I don’t think this is the part we’re needed for,” I said, standing and offering each of them a hand. “How about you come with me, and we’ll see if we can’t get out of here before someone starts throwing punches?”

“Okay,” said Karen gratefully, taking my hand in hers. Quentin didn’t take my hand, but he did stand. Given that he was eighteen now—almost an adult by human standards, even if he was still a baby to the fae—that was all I’d been expecting.

Sylvester started to stand. The Luidaeg looked at him, narrow-eyed and silent, and he sat back down. I’d have to thank her for that later.

If anyone else noticed the three of us making our quick, quiet escape, they didn’t say anything. I didn’t know the layout of the knowe as well as I would have liked, but I knew knowes in general, and I knew there were always multiple ways out of a room. In the end, all we had to do was follow the servants to find our way to a narrow door in the corner near the balcony windows, half-hidden by tapestries. We slipped through. The door closed behind us, and we were in a quiet, well-lit hallway, with no shouting nobles or risk of flying food.

Quentin looked at me. “Next time, can we be out of town when something like this happens? Like, in another Kingdom or something?”

“Next time, I will take you to Disneyland,” I said. “Karen, you okay?”

“Sure.” She laughed unsteadily. “That was sort of like being in someone else’s nightmare, only no one was naked, and there were no lobsters on the walls.”

“Come on, you two,” I said. “Let’s see if we can find the kitchen and get a replacement dinner.”

We walked along the silent hall, Karen still holding my hand, Quentin following slightly behind us, like he was guarding the rear. It would have been nice, if not for the omnipresent fear that we’d be found and dragged back to the banquet hall. I was pretty sure Arden was letting the nobles shout themselves into exhaustion. Her years working retail at the bookstore must have taught her a few things about crowd control.

The hall ended in a redwood door carved with moths. We stopped, looking at each other, before I shrugged and pushed the door open, revealing a small balcony. Three tables were set up there. One held three plates of spaghetti and meatballs, a large basket of bread, and a pitcher of what looked like sparkling lemonade. Raj was already seated in one of the chairs, slurping down spaghetti like it was about to be made illegal.

The second table had no occupants, but held a wide assortment of desserts. The third had a large tea tower covered in sandwiches, scones, and small, savory pastries. All three of us stopped again, this time blinking at the scene in front of us.

“As it turns out, no one takes offense when a King of Cats declares the anger of the Divided Courts to be misaimed and leaves until they can stop acting like children,” purred a voice behind me. “Or perhaps they do take offense, and simply don’t bother to say anything, as I’m not worthy of being scolded by my betters. Regardless, the kitchen staff sends their regards, and hopes you’ll enjoy your meal.”

I dropped Karen’s hand as I turned. Tybalt was behind me. He offered a small, almost shy smile, revealing the pointed tip of one incisor.

“Did you miss me?” he asked.

I punched him in the arm.

Tybalt raised his eyebrows. “I see.” He looked past me to Quentin. “Did she miss me?”

“I’m pretty sure she’s going to murder you,” he said. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to help.”

“Ah.” Tybalt sighed as he returned his attention to my face. “I told you I couldn’t arrive with you. I told you I had to stand as a King, and not as an accessory to one of their own.”

“Funny,” I said. “You didn’t tell me you weren’t going to speak to me for a week beforehand. I figured you’d have to ignore me once we got here, but before? I understand politics, I do, but ash and oak, Tybalt, that was a little much to drop on a girl without some kind of warning.” I punched him again, not as hard this time. My anger was fading, replaced by relief.

To his credit, he bore my unhappiness with a small nod and a mild, “You’re right. I shouldn’t have done that. But there aren’t really precedents for this sort of event. Most Kings of Cats will never have the opportunity to remind the High King of their domain of their existence, much less do so in such a plain and evident fashion.”

“That reminds me,” I said. “Where’s Shade?” Shade was the Queen of Cats who had dominion over the Berkeley area. I’d only met her once, and she’d remained in her feline form for the entire time, but she’d seemed nice enough.

“She’ll be joining us tomorrow, after my nephew has gone home,” said Tybalt, offering me his arm. “Since my domain corresponds to the seat of Arden’s Kingdom, we knew that only I would be welcome at the high table, and it was important I be seated there, to make the point that my Court is an equal partner in this discussion. Shall we sit?”

“We shall,” I said, taking his arm. Quentin and Karen, looking relieved, made for the table where Raj was waiting. I grinned as I watched them go. “It was good of you to make sure the kids got a second dinner.”

“I knew as soon as that man,” Tybalt’s nose wrinkled, “started shouting about mixed-bloods and inheritance that you’d be making your escape sooner rather than later, and further, I knew there was no way you’d go without your charges. Honestly, I’m just relieved you managed to escape without bringing your entire table along.” He took his arm away from mine in order to pull my chair out.