Exchanged Page 18

  Things must be different in the Forgotten Mists if she’s even surprised by our brandy.

  “Oberon,” Titania said in a whisper that everyone could hear. “Why are there four of you?”

  “Ginette has asked me that before,” Jekob said with a smirk. “But we weren't in the dining room.”

  The Deepwood queen hushed Jekob and gave him a playful nudge. Oberon realized Ginette hadn't tried the Blooming Brandy or the wine that evening. “Queen Ginette, perhaps you would like to sample the delicious brew that multiplies husbands.”

  “Perhaps after dinner,” she said smoothly, returning to her meal.

  Odd. Something nagged at the back of Oberon’s slightly fuzzy mind.

  “Lord Thray still refuses to tell me exactly how you met,” Aubriel said, a slight flush over her face.

  Oberon smirked. “Of course not. He can't reveal all his secrets to you right away. That would make him seem far less mysterious.”

  By the end of dinner, Titania was resting her head on folded arms upon the table, sleeping soundly. Oberon discreetly motioned his hands under the table, sending a simple message to Captain Salda: Pick the queen up and return her to bed. Picking her up himself would have been a far more romantic and realistic gesture were he not so concerned about pitching over. The fuzziness in his head was nearly deafening.

  Something happened between Callannon and Salda, but Oberon wasn't sure what. When he’d seen the captain that afternoon, she was even more ornery than normal, and she had come from the direction that Callannon had gone, so it wasn’t difficult to fit the puzzle pieces together.

  With Titania asleep on the table and dinner finished, Ginette made the motion of drinking something to Aubriel before dragging Jekob off to the guesthouse with an unconvincing excuse of being tired, leaving Oberon, Callannon, and Aubriel effectively alone. Oberon figured this was as good a time as any to ask. “Thray, what do you think of Captain Salda?”

  Callannon’s face, slightly darkened from the brandy, hardened. “She's a selfish plague of deceit and villainy.”

  “Good evening, King Oberon.” The captain stepped into the dining room, the housekeeper following and shooting Callannon worried glances from behind the captain. “You summoned me.”

  He had summoned her, but all the alcohol he consumed left him feeling just as surprised as Callannon looked. “Yes. Your efficiency is admirable, Captain. Well, as you can see, she's right here.”

  A stiff nod of acknowledgment was her only response before scooping up Titania. The tension between Callannon and Salda was as taut as a drawn bow string.

  It was deathly quiet as Salda took Titania from the dining room, so much so that Oberon was sure he heard the click of the captain’s boot heels all the way to the front doors and down the manor steps, even after the brownie followed and closed the doors behind her. The king did the only thing he could and gave Callannon an apologetic shrug. “You probably shouldn’t have insulted her when she was entering the room.”

  “Me?” Callannon wheeled. “How was I to know you summoned her?”

  Oberon waved a hand dismissively. “I didn’t think she’d be that quick. Besides, you two have been acting even more aggressively toward each other than normal. What’s going on?”

  “I found Captain Salda in Lord Thray’s private study without permission,” Aubriel said.

  “She is good at trespassing. Part of the reason I keep her around is because she doesn’t usually get caught.” The anger in Callannon’s face told him that had been the wrong thing to say. “But it’s still suspicious, inappropriate, and just plain rude.”

  “It’s not just my study,” Callannon said tightly. “She was looking for some evidence to damn both Aubriel and myself. I almost didn’t retain my position by your side when news of Venta reached court. That I could survive another scandal of that magnitude is unlikely, even with your assistance, and Salda knows it.”

  “Alright,” Oberon said, leaning back in his chair. “Even if Salda is snooping, what is there for her to find? You’re no traitor. Never have been and never will be or I’m half an ass. And I assure you that my ass, while nice, isn’t my best feature. This matter can easily be settled between the captain and myself, so what’s all this worry about scandal and losing your position?”

  They were alone, but Callannon glanced about anyway, as if Salda might have snuck back in. He gave Aubriel a serious look that made Oberon still, and even the fuzziness quieted down. The honest, faithful woman turned to him, her expression holding no humor. “I’m mortal.”

  Silence overtook the room. Oberon opened and closed his mouth many times, preparing to begin his laughter the moment either Callannon or Aubriel’s face broke into a smile.

  They simply stared at him.

  “But...that’s not possible!” Oberon motioned to Aubriel. “Look at you.” Unless he was taking their words too literally. Fey technically weren’t immortal, they could be killed, but they typically didn’t consider themselves ‘mortal.’ Maybe it had to do with her status. “It doesn’t matter, Miss Aubriel, that you aren’t noble born. Just because someone is a noble in title doesn’t mean they’re intelligent enough to function effectively in my court.” He turned to Callannon. “Besides, everyone already met her during the ball, and I’ve yet to hear a bad thing about her that isn’t wild speculation.”

  “Look at her,” Callannon insisted. “Really and truly.”

  Oberon opened his mouth to argue but stopped and shook his head. His advisor had gotten a strange notion about Aubriel, and—with the help of Blooming Brandy—would remain convinced that something was wrong until his directions were followed. Sighing and leaning back into his chair, Oberon let his eyes go to Callannon’s exchanged.

  In her own way, Aubriel was beautiful. Of course, Callannon had left that part out of his earliest descriptions of her. Pink hair, petite, and an odd skin color that looked like it had once been pale but now was a dark, not quite gold or silver, hue. The only thing not completely odd was her eye color, a bright green. Now that he thought about it, she didn’t look very fey.

  He continued to look at her, trying to find whatever it was that Callannon wanted him to find, and he met Aubriel’s gaze. She met his eyes with an intense but earnest expression, almost like she was telling him, It’s okay. You can see.

  Long moments passed, then something flickered. Oberon blinked. She still looked the same, except that she didn’t. Long ears were replaced by shorter ones. Unmarred skin became freckled. A thousand small changes until she wasn’t a fey. She was an elf. A mortal.

  Callannon was exchanged with a mortal.

  “Oh,” Oberon managed, his mouth dry. “Callannon, my friend, you’ve chosen the best and worst woman to have by your side. How?”

  “It was an accident,” Aubriel said.

  “She found Venta’s necklace.” Callannon said.

  “And then I exchanged with him, which was also an accident.”

  “But we decided to stay exchanged once everything was sorted out. I never meant to bring her here, but you decreed it, my king.”

  Their words hit him like spells in his drunken state. “Slow down!” When the pounding in his head subsided, he took a calming breath. “Start from the beginning, and give me details.”

  The story Callannon and Aubriel told him lasted so long that Oberon went through shock, denial, a bit of anger, and finally acceptance that what they said was true by the time they finished. Even the effects of the Blooming Brandy were burned away, leaving him sober and all too clear-headed. He wished for a lingering bit of fuzziness as he pressed his palms together and rested them on the table. Callannon had that determined gleam in his eyes, the one that had seen them through trial after trial. “If the court learns that Aubriel is mortal, you could lose your position.”

  “I know.” Callannon said, putting a hand over Aubriel’s.

  “Sagma House and the staff you consider to be your family would no longer be home to you.”

  “It�
�s worth the risk.”

  Aubriel turned sharply at that, unshed tears shining in her eyes. Why did Callannon always have to fall for mysterious women? Not that Oberon could blame him. Trust wasn’t something Oberon had looked for in a partner during his early years, thinking only of passion and the ability to work well in the bedroom. But after living through Venta’s deceptions as well as Titania’s, he couldn’t fault his friend’s choice.

  With a sigh, Oberon shook his head. “Of course, I will voice my support of your exchange and will do everything in my power to keep you as my advisor.”

  Callannon blinked in surprise. “You aren’t angry?”

  “On the contrary, I’m ecstatic that you’ve found someone who isn’t charming you day in and day out.” He turned to Aubriel. “And I’m glad you’re making him happy. This will cause great complications that I think we can all agree should wait until after the treaty is signed, if possible. Regardless, you never did like any of my suggestions for potential partners, Thray, so why should I be upset when you find an exchanged that actually makes you happy?”

  “An advisor may need to yield to his king, but that doesn’t mean he has to listen to him.”

  “I think we should tell Ginette as well,” Aubriel whispered, her eyes on Callannon. “It doesn’t feel right to pull the wool over her eyes until after the signing.”

  “It may be for the best in the long run,” Callannon admitted.

  My hangover is coming on early today. “You are my advisor. I’d rather avoid the issue if possible, but if you think it’s best, then I trust you.”

  Callannon nodded, not looking terribly sure of himself.

  Oberon stood. “Well then, with that, I’m off to bed.”

  The sound of scraping filled the dining room as Callannon and Aubriel rose from their chairs, his advisor holding the elf close. “Thank you, Oberon. Truly.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I’ve yet to save your position. For a second time.”

  “It shouldn’t be too difficult after my part in maintaining peace with the frost giants, no?” Callannon said.

  Choosing to ignore his advisor’s smug undertone, Oberon continued out of the manor.

  A mortal. It would be interesting to see how that played out. How would his court react if they knew? When they knew. He paused as the warm night breeze brushed past him. What might Ginette and Jekob do?

  ~*~

  Aubriel tried not to hold Callannon’s hand like a steel trap as they walked through the night and deeper into the garden. When she’d gone to the maze with Titania, she’d been afraid that the queen might push her back through the gateway that first brought her to the fey realm. Now, she feared Callannon might do that very thing, if in a gentler manner.

  He hadn’t said much of anything since Oberon left, mostly just gazing at her and his surroundings pensively. It’s worth the risk. Or so he told Oberon. Aubriel believed that Callannon wanted to be with her, that he would do anything to keep her safe, but was it worth his place as advisor and everything that came with it to have her living here with him where she could be found out at any moment? It would be safer if he sent her back to her own realm. He could keep his position, they could even remain exchanged, but they could never be together.

  The fey staff of the manor were like a family to Callannon, and that wasn’t something easily given up. When it came time, would their exchange still be worth the loss? As if to assure herself, Aubriel touched the purple nightflower tucked behind her ear, one half of the manifestation of their desire to be with one another. If an exchange ended, what happened to the tokens?

  They stopped in an area of the garden they’d briefly walked through earlier after the picnic. Callannon led them to sit on a stone bench—not as cool as Aubriel imagined it would be—in front of a pond. Blues and violets reflected across the water’s surface, melding and mixing. She caught a glimpse of her face staring back through the slight ripples. Despite the illusion wrapped around her, it was Aubriel the elven huntress whom she saw, not the fey Miss Aubriel of the Forgotten Mists. Even if she might fool everyone else, she couldn’t fool herself. Her stomach twisted with foreboding.

  It felt odd that the memory of Elston should resurface to plague her now. Callannon never once looked at her like a means to an end, like an annoyance, like he’d realized she was worth less to him than a piece of jewelry. Was that why she was afraid to look at him? She couldn’t bear to see that realization on his face.

  “Aubriel.”

  She resisted the tug of his fingers under her chin at first, but gave in and turned. Whatever his decision, it wouldn’t change simply because she refused to acknowledge it. His eyes were like the pond, reflecting the dusky colors and hiding what lay deeper. It wasn’t fair that he walked into her dreams, her life, and changed everything. Then again, that’s exactly what she did to him as well.

  A lump rose in her throat. “I’m not going back.”

  “No?” he said, stricken.

  “Unless you tell me that you want to break our exchange, I’m not returning to my home...my former home.”

  A sigh escaped him and he took her face in his hands, his gentle smile finally lighting his face. “I do not wish to break our exchange, and I’m overjoyed that you still want to stay after everything that’s happened.” His gaze softened. “Aubriel, I love you.”

  Shock numbed her. He loves me. He doesn’t want me to leave. Relief and warmth thawed her and nearly brought tears to her eyes. She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “Gracious Rabek! I love you. I love you, Callannon.”

  He laughed and embraced her. “I didn’t want to say it too soon, but I couldn’t wait any longer.”

  She leaned up and nuzzled his nose. “No, it was perfect. But I do have one request.”

  “Anything.”

  “Take me to our room and show me how much you love me.”

  Chapter 12

  If—back when she was still hunting and gathering for her village—someone had asked Aubriel how she thought two realms might discuss and draft a treaty, she would have told them it happened tediously in an important room. Never would she have guessed that it might happen on the sandy shore of a crystal blue lake surrounded by towering trees of green and gold. Far away from Sagma House, but still on Callannon’s estate, a lake house lay tucked in the comfortable shade of the tree line. They were to have the last formal meeting over the treaty there before signing.

  The royals were certainly not dressed for the occasion. They were hardly dressed at all! The clothing meant for swimming in the lake covered less skin than undergarments. As was usual, queens Ginette and Titania revealed as much of their breasts as possible without showing their nipples. Aubriel glanced down at her own body, toned from the exertion of survival and lined darker from spending time outside in a world where the sun shone more intensely than it did in the Summer Kingdom.

  The yellow cloth wrapped around her breasts and hips drew attention to her like a beacon. She felt even more bare without her token, which she hadn’t worn for fear of losing it in the water. Even then, she could feel Ginette and Jekob’s human herald staring at her, and it occurred to her that this must have been the first time he had seen her. She tried not to shift under his gaze. The unfortunate herald was a slave, and she hoped the signing of the treaty today would end that.

  “Why don’t we enjoy the water?” Oberon said, rubbing his hands together.

  It was no better to look at the men than the women. Their colorful, too small loincloths—or whatever they were—reminded her of peacocks that pranced about when alluring females were nearby.

  “Let’s swim!” Ginette said with a jump, drawing her husband’s gaze.

  Jekob scooped Ginette into his arms. “As you wish, my love.” With that, he waded into the lake and unceremoniously dumped her into the clear water.

  The queen shrieked and splashed about in an attempt to douse her husband. Oberon gave a whoop and leapt into the w
ater, joined shortly by Titania. They shouted in excitement as they began to drift further from shore. Aubriel fit herself against Callannon’s side, whispering so only he could hear. “I'm going to tell her.”

  He nodded gravely. “It could cost us the treaty, but if our secret gets out after it's signed, it may well be forfeit anyhow, depending on how discussions about the treatment of mortals go.”

  A flash of ruby red hair from the lake house caught Aubriel’s eye. “It was worth the risk to tell Oberon. I think it will be worth it with Ginette as well.”

  “Alright, but be careful, my love.” Callannon followed the endearment with a lingering kiss that stirred a heat within her, but too soon he pulled away. “I’ll distract the other three.”

  Aubriel smiled and tugged him into the lapping waves until the warm water came up to their stomachs. It was perfectly clear, failing to hide Callannon’s hands as they slipped over her hips. She gave a playful splash to send him on his way, if reluctantly. Tension coiled along the lines of his muscles, gleaming in the sunlight.

  Aubriel waited alone as Callannon swam out to the others. She couldn’t hear what he said to Jekob, but she heard the king’s laugh as he followed Callannon away from Ginette. The queen began to swim after them, but Aubriel waved her over. “Is this how things are done in the Deepwood?” She nonchalantly drifted further from the others. “It's very unlike my understanding of how discussions are held in the Mists.”

  “You’ll need to visit and see for yourself,” Ginette said, her voice lowering. “After all, between your potion and how occupied I've been keeping Jekob, I think you’ll have good reason to visit soon enough.” Her smile turned mischievous. “He still doesn't know about your help. He’ll be very happy and grateful once I tell him.”

  Unable to find the words, Aubriel settled for a nod. Her stomach flipped, threatening to push its contents up her throat. “Ginette...I mean, Queen Ginette.”

  The queen interrupted. “Aubriel, you can forgo my title in casual situations such as this. Please, go on.”

  Going on was the last thing Aubriel wanted to do. The heavy guilt of her lies bore down upon her, and she had no idea how the queen might react to her news. If Ginette was comfortable keeping a human herald as a slave, Aubriel doubted that she would react well knowing that another mortal had been around her in secret. It didn’t matter if Aubriel was ready. She wouldn’t have another opportunity alone with the queen. “There’s something I need to tell you. To confess to you.”