Heir of the Dog Black Dog - Hailey Edwards Page 0,70

things to my stomach yesterday. Today I was reconciled to my fate.

Fine. So I liked him. No. I had liked him before grasping the depth of his betrayal.

The time was right wasn’t an excuse. For the greater good, well, that wasn’t much of one either. Not unless I had concrete evidence another party benefitted from his scheming. Right now I had nothing. Just his word, a spark of believable anger and the hope he had told me the truth.

For once.

I didn’t want Rook to have a missing sibling, but knowledge was power. If she existed, and if he had orchestrated all of this to find her, then I had twenty-four-karat leverage.

Soft knocks on the door had me setting aside my plate and sliding from the mattress to my feet.

“Come in,” Rook called after joining me.

The dryad entered with a smile that wilted as her gaze swept over me. “You have not changed.”

I cast Rook a what is that about look.

“The garments you provided for Thierry are lovely, but I noticed the buttons bear the crest of the Seelie house.” His lips thinned. “The consuls will understand why she must decline to wear items that might mistakenly imply her loyalty to an opposing faction. She is wed to an Unseelie.”

Red splashed over her cheeks. “I am sure the consuls meant no disrespect.”

Since she looked to me, I forced a smile. “I’m sure it was an innocent mistake.”

Ah, politics. As far as anyone knew, my head was as likely to be severed as it was to be crowned. The Seelie were hedging their bets. But buttons? Really? Then again, if broth and a change of clothes had made me Rook’s common-law wife, who knew what a button signified?

I was starting to think the dead princes were the lucky ones. Who would choose this kind of life?

Rook touched my arm, jarring me from my thoughts and answering that question. He wanted it. He had chosen this life, possibly for both of us. Had schemed and wheedled and toiled to possess it.

“The consuls await your arrival.” She kept her head bowed. “I will escort you if you are ready.”

“I’m ready.” I rolled my shoulders, loosening them. “Diode?”

The grumpy cat rose and stretched, yawning in a way that showcased all of his sizable teeth. He padded over to me and headbutted my thigh to get me moving. “Go on, you will not face this alone.”

My fingers curled in his fur. Rook came to my side but made no move to touch me. Smart man.

After nudging Rook out the door ahead of us, I paused while he and the dryad got a head start. I knelt in front of Diode, putting us eye to eye. “If this goes south, I need you to promise me something.”

He rubbed his soft cheek against mine. “Of course.”

“Make sure Mom gets home.” I swallowed. “She won’t want details. Just—let her make up her own mind about what happened to me. If you hung around for a while...after...that would be good too.”

His tongue rasped against the tip of my nose. “She will want for nothing, and no harm will come to her so long as I live.”

I wiped the backs of my hands under my eyes. “You’re not half bad for a cat.”

“If I had found you as a pup,” he said on a chuckle, “I might not have drowned you either.”

Haggard faces greeted us inside the chamber. The Watchers, the Huntsman and the consuls waited exactly where we had left them.

“The consuls have come to an agreement,” Liosliath announced.

“Will you agree to abide by our ruling?” Daibhidh’s voice crackled with glee. “Well?”

I exchanged a glance with Diode and then with Rook. Each offered me a nod of encouragement. “I...” I balled my fists until my nails cut crescent moons in my palms. “I will accept your judgment.”

The Huntsman grunted at the consuls then approached me. Rook eased between us, but I shoved him aside and faced my judgment alone. My Word rested on my lips, ready to leap from my tongue. I may have exaggerated a skosh about the acceptance thing. I had come too far to meekly accept death.

The consuls would have a fight on their hands if they wanted to put down this little black dog.

The Huntsman held out his hands, curling his fingers until I placed mine in his.

“Thierry Thackeray, daughter of Macsen Sullivan, it is with a glad heart I welcome you to Faerie.” He brought my hands to his mouth and kissed my knuckles. “I