A Deal with the Elf King (Married to Magic, #1)(47)

“Yes.” I stretch my arms overhead and my spine pops in several places.

Rinni enters. “I came to let you know that an urgent matter has arisen.”

“Oh?”

“It seems a delegation from the Fae King arrived last night,” she reports.

“I thought there wasn’t a Fae King, just a bunch of infighting between clans?”

“Every now and then they scrape together enough unity to declare someone king and swear to the rest of the world they’re presentable. This one has lasted the longest, but we’ll see if he can keep it up. No king has ever kept his power long enough to make it to the Council of Kings.” Rinni shrugs. “Regardless, Eldas has sent me to inform you that he will not be able to meet with you this morning as planned.”

“Oh well.” I hop off my bed. “What’re you up to today?”

“What am I…up to?”

“Are you busy?” I rephrase.

Hook stretches with a low whine and shakes out his fur.

“Usually, I would be assisting Eldas with the delegation…but he has appointed me to your care.”

“I can’t tell if you’re upset about that or not.” I grin.

Rinni bristles. “I—” she clears her throat “—Your Majesty, guarding you is an honor.”

“Is it?” I arch my eyebrows and walk to my closet. I leave the door open while I change so I can talk to her. “I still can’t tell if you like me or not.”

“It’s not my job to like you, it’s my job to serve you.”

“Yes, but—” I pop my head out and Rinni promptly glances askance at my bare shoulders. “I would much prefer if you liked me. If not, I’m sure we can find another guard who does.”

She huffs and purses her lips. “I think I’ve told you already; I like you fine.”

“Oh, good. And you’re sure I’m not keeping you? You seem like you’re someone pretty important.”

“I am the king’s right hand.” The mention gives me pause, bringing back the memory of Rinni cupping his cheek. I can’t help but wonder if there’s more there. Harrow had mentioned something about the Elf King taking lovers… “But that’s precisely why he has me guarding you. There’s no one else he trusts to keep you safe.”

I barely refrain from asking if there’s anything she can do about Harrow.

“Well then, I’d like to furnish my room today. You said it was something the queens got to do.” I emerge from the closet. Rinni tilts her head in an uncanny mirror of Hook. I barely resist laughing at them both.

“Yes, but usually they do it after their coronation, when they can go into the city.”

“So I’m stuck without furniture for three months?”

Rinni purses her lips. “I have an idea—I believe the furniture of the past queens is stored somewhere in the castle. You could start with that for the time being?”

“All right, lead the way.”

We wander through the lifeless castle to a back room. It’s clearly being used as a storeroom, but it’s the size of a small ballroom. The only dancers are tarp ghosts propped up by furniture underneath.

“All this…belonged to past queens?”

“By my understanding.”

It’s like a graveyard. With morbid curiosity, I peel up the first sheet and reveal a chaise covered in supple brown leather. It’s just a piece of furniture, I try and insist to myself. But I can see the outline of where the queen sat.

I shiver and lower the sheet. The room is suddenly ten times colder.

“I think I want to pick out my own.”

“But—”

I turn back. “Isn’t there a way we could sneak out? I can cover my head, tuck my hair, and—”

“Your eyes,” Rinni interrupts.

“What?”

“Your eyes give you away. Elves have blue eyes.”

I curse under my breath. “I can’t use any of this…” I shake my head. “It’s a good effort, thank you, but I can’t… It’d be strange. As though I’m living with ghosts.” Rinni gives a sympathetic sigh. At least she seems to understand why her suggestion won’t work. “Are you certain there’s no way I can go into the city to get furniture of my own?”

She pauses, curling and uncurling her fingers around her sword.

“Rinni?”

“Perhaps there could be a way, if we’re very careful.” Rinni’s eyes are shifty, as if she’s doubting herself for saying anything.

“Oh?” I encourage eagerly.

“I’ll tell you as we walk.” Rinni motions for me to follow her and I quickly fall into step.

The plan is fairly simple.

Rinni takes me back to her room and there I change out of the gown and into some of her clothes. She has a modest apartment—the racks of weapons I expect. The painting supplies I do not. Rinni says nothing about her hobby, so I follow her lead. I don’t know if it’s supposed to be secret that the right hand of the king is also an artist. Either way, I don’t want to risk the peace we’ve found.

I carefully tuck my hair underneath a cap. Even though no one knows me yet, Rinni says the red is too distinct a shade to have flowing freely. Though a few red-orange sparks float stubbornly around my ears.