Caged Kitten (All the Queen's Men #2) - Rhea Watson Page 0,120

mouth.

Bravery in its finest form.

“A little,” he managed with a mouthful of egg, his response making Rafe’s grin blossom into something real for the first time all day.

“Good. Now you know how I’ve felt for ages.”

The pair locked eyes and fell into a seemingly private conversation—soundless, too, even though I knew for a fact they didn’t share a telepathic bond. After shoveling the rest of my dry-as-fuck bread bits into my mouth, I chewed slowly, waiting for their little chat to be over and struggling to swallow everything down without choking. When it didn’t seem like they planned to include me anytime soon, I leaned forward and shoved myself into their eyelines.

“Well, we fae commonly take multiple lovers,” I insisted, earning me another pair of side-eyes from my fated counterparts. Smirking, I eased off, elbow on the table, chin on my fist, wistful as I said, “It’s not unheard of outside the ruling monarch for fae to take many wives or husbands or whatever…” As next in line, Rollo was stuck with just the one wife—who was perfect, of course. Everyone below, so long as we weren’t destined to rule a court through marriage, could tack on as many mates as we wanted. I had just never felt inclined… until this bunch of misfits. “So, you know, consider me tickled pink to be a part of our warped little family.”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Ugh.”

“Really though,” Elijah grumbled, finally peeling open his juice and risking a tentative sniff. “Sometimes you need to stop pitching and just shut the fuck up, Fintan. You’ve closed the sale.”

Fair enough. I’d warbled about our warped family with a good dose of sarcasm, but in reality, I rather liked them. All of them. Not just Katja—but Rafe and Elijah too. None of the trio took my princely title seriously; actually, they still seemed to think I was bullshitting them. Which meant they treated me like I was nothing special. At least one of them told me to shut up daily, immune to my silver tongue and wicked words. They called me on my nonsense. Put me in my place. Not once had anyone let me win at cards; Xargi had taught me I wasn’t as skilled at poker as my courtiers had led me to believe.

Rafe and Elijah were absolutely merciless when I returned from the greenhouse cleaner than Katja, with less dirt under my fingernails and a lack of sweat on my brow. Rolled their eyes frequently. Gave me a nudge or a shove or a shoulder-check when I deserved it. No one tiptoed around me or watched their words.

Each of them spoke to me—not at me. Not once had I been addressed like I wasn’t even there, discussions of my comings and goings nonexistent. They didn’t want anything from me. Power, influence, wealth, status, gossip for being linked to a prince and all the benefits that wrought—this witch, dragon, and vampire weren’t bothered with any of it.

We were… companions.

Equals.

A quartet bundled together by fate.

Rafe, Elijah, and Katja were so far from the sycophants I had purposefully surrounded myself with for centuries that they were practically on the other side of the fucking galaxy. I’d used sniveling fae nobles desperate to climb the court hierarchy as a protective bubble for far too long. They all catered to me because they had to. Didn’t question me. Did as they were told. Let me get away with bloody murder.

Perhaps I had always been afraid that if others saw the true me, if they were allowed to speak their mind, I’d crumble. Because I was the disappointment of the Midnight Court and everyone knew it…

Everyone but these three.

To them, I was just Fintan.

I guess I needed that.

Had needed it for some time—the chance to stand on my own two feet, to have my ego checked, and to be accepted for the snarky, pampered mess I was.

And now that I had it, I wasn’t about to let anyone take it away from me—including Guthrie.

“We have to get her out of here,” Elijah rumbled, eyes fixed on the back of his mate’s head again. Katja seemed to shrink under his scrutiny, no doubt feeling the dragon’s interest throughout her entire body.

“Away from Guthrie, at the very least,” Rafe added softly. “I worry if he can’t have her, no one can, you know?”

“Wards, wolves, warlocks, and a psychotic warden…” I flipped one of my eggs over, hoping the back might be more appetizing. Nope. Not even a little. “Yes, getting out