Broken Dove (Fantasyland #4)(119)

“Now, we socialize.”

Ugh.

“That’s it?” I inquired.

“Well, to quench your need for excitement, I could challenge someone to a duel, but outside of the Drakkars, there’s no one here whose blood I’d relish drawing.”

I stopped and looked up at him and he stopped with me.

“You duel in this world?” I asked quietly.

“Indeed,” he replied. “But only when honor is at stake.”

“I don’t suppose women engage in duels,” I remarked.

He raised a brow, his lips twitching. “Wanting another go at Franka?”

“She’s not very nice,” I said by way of answer.

“If given the opportunity, I’d prefer observing you besting her with her own weapons,” he murmured.

“Then I hope she’s stupid enough to make another approach.”

He shook his head, grinned and started us moseying again.

“Did you get anything out of Eirik and Valeria?” I queried.

“Dove, they’ll hardly admit to conspiring during a trivial conversation at a gale,” he replied.

“Of course not,” I returned. “But they don’t have to admit it straight out for you to get something from them.”

He stopped this time, exchanging my half-drunk champagne glass with a fresh one and getting one of his own.

“My role this evening is to be here and keep an eye on Franka, Kristian, Eirik and Valeria as Remi and Hans find maids, charm the information out of them that would lead to the rooms of those particular Drakkars and search them.”

Interesting.

“Just those Drakkars?” I asked.

“Alas, our informant was quite cagey about who was doing the conspiring. But only those Drakkars would be foolish or spiteful enough to court the wrath of a man who commands elves and dragons.”

I nodded, putting my glass to my lips and searching the crowd until I found Kristian.

“Kristian?” I murmured into my champagne before taking a sip.

“He would be the foolish one,” Apollo replied.

“Hmm…” I mumbled, looking from Kristian to Apollo. “I must say, Lo, that this world is a whole lot more intriguing than mine.”

His eyes warmed when I used his nickname but his lips warned, “Intrigue always has consequences, poppy. We just need to ensure that those who deserve them are the ones who get them.”

“Well, I’ll keep track of Franka and Kristian and you keep an eye on Eirik and Valeria. Does that sound like a plan?” I offered.

His look got warmer as he started us moving again, murmuring, “And she gives me more reason than just that gown not to regret introducing her to a den of vipers.”

“I aim to please,” I replied quietly, scanning for and locating Franka.

But as I did, I suddenly felt Apollo’s lips at my ear.

“You do, Madeleine, always. And tonight, we’ll be exploring new ways for you to accomplish that.”

Something to look forward to after we left Creepy Castle with its (mostly) Foul Family.

And I so looked forward to it, when Apollo moved his lips away, I caught his eyes from under my lashes and gave him a small smile.

He one-upped the promise made by my smile by staring at my mouth while he ran his tongue along his lower lip.

My cl*t pulsed and my lips parted.

His gaze came to mine and he whispered, “Come, dove, I’ll introduce you to Sinclair, Draven’s uncle.”

A diversion.

I nodded and gave him a different kind of smile.

He tucked me close, moved me through the crowd and introduced me to Walter Sinclair, who, like Norfolk, was also kindly and older. And, I found when I shared it openly with him, he was a man who very much appreciated the fact that I cared deeply for his nephew.

Chapter Twenty

Hewcrows

Creepy Castles and (mostly) Foul Families aside, as I moved down the front steps of Brunskar hours later, Apollo guiding me to our sleigh, I was pretty pleased the night went so well.

Actually, intrigue was kind of fun (though I wouldn’t tell Apollo that since he obviously didn’t enjoy it much).

And I noticed he had steered me clear of a variety of people just as he steered me to closer acquaintances who would not be unkind or inappropriate.

Always looking out for me.

Always.

It was a weird sensation.

But once I got over the weirdness, it was a sensation I liked.

We made it to the bottom of the steps and I pulled my cloak closer around me, noting, “Tonight was fun.”

He moved ahead of me, reaching out to open the door of the sleigh, but looked back at me, smiling a bemused smile.

“You have an interesting idea of fun, poppy.”

I stopped moving at the bottom step and tipped my head to the side. “I do?” I asked and didn’t wait for him to answer. “Champagne. Good food and lovely company. And you looking hot and me looking fabulous in a gorgeous dress. Isn’t that everyone’s idea of fun?”

“I may take this neck cloth off, guide the sleigh to a cliff and throw it over,” he said by way of answer and I giggled.

“Can I take it from that that you don’t like neck cloths?” I asked the obvious.

He lifted a hand my way, and chuckling, replied, “You can indeed.”