Daughter of Winter

Chapter 5

He was magnificent, everything I'd imagined and more. Grace mixed with power to form something splendid. His hair was like a flame on his head, wild, red, and uncontrollable. He had a thick layer of freckles that covered his sharp and raised cheekbones. His kind brown eyes regarded me with a slight amount of worry.

This was a High Fae worthy of every ounce of respect that he was given.

"I hope that Hadrian hasn't given you the wrong idea of the kind of people I allow into my inner circle," he said.

"Hadrian is just hamming it up to impress you," Lysander said. "He's usually content to just silently sit there and brood, like this." He hunched his shoulders, glared down at the table, crossed his arms, and frowned. "Except without the eyes." His voice and theatrics were enough to bolster my confidence.

"If that's what he's trying to do, he's going about it the wrong way. Where I'm from the males impress us by picking flowers and arranging them in a bouquet," I said. Both Lysander and Lord Kendryek roared with laughter.

"Now that's a sight, Hadrian picking flowers to impress a suitor. If that ever happens, dear Mother please wake me up because I'm having one hell of a fever dream," Kendryek said. Hadrian wasn't laughing.

"You're not wearing your pearl, Ken," he said. If one wanted to make it very clear that they were unavailable, they would place a ring inlaid with a single pearl on their right thumb. In the mortal lands, a shiny stone bound by wire would suffice. "Are you planning something?"

The room very suddenly became extremely uncomfortable. A few choice looks were exchanged between those at the table. I kept my head down and inspected a winkle in the fabric of the table cover.

"What did I miss?" Erin said as she entered the room. I thanked The Mother for graciously sending someone to relieve the tension at the table. She sat down on the stool beside me. In doing so she turned her body, revealing two white wings speckled with brown feathers. They were pulled tight against her back by two cloth bands. Unlike Hadrian's, they were small, the muscles atrophied. A scar was visible at the top of both wings where feathers no longer grew. The scars were ragged; She had struggled against whoever had maimed her.

Instead of her blue healer's robes she wore a maroon, ankle length dress. It complemented her brown hair and skin well. She tucked her hair behind her ear and eyed Lysander. "I thought we were supposed to dress up," she condescendingly asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.

Lysander looked down at his own green tunic and brown pants - the third pair I'd seen him wear in the last three days.

"At least I didn't come in my pajamas," he said as he gestured towards Hadrian's black robes. Without so much as moving a finger, Hadrian procured a ball of red liquid out of his large goblet and lobbed it at Lysander.

Lysander vanished from his chair and reappeared half a step to the left, dodging the projectile. It hit the chair and dripped down the back. Erin laughed.

I looked at Lord Kendryek to gage his reaction. He looked mildly amused.

"This is the normal kind of foolery that they are usually up to." He gestured at his own clothing, a purple tunic covered in fanciful markings, a white undershirt, a gold belt, and black pants. "This is what I normally wear around my mansion. I like to keep the inner circle meetings more relaxed." His inner circle. That's what I was seeing. Lord Kendryek looked at Lysander. "Is Rosalind coming tonight?" Lysander swapped his stained chair with the empty one. Lord Kendryek raised an eyebrow.

"I assume so, but I can't guarantee it."

"That's where Rosalind usually sits." Lord Kendryek pointed at the stained chair. A servant rushed over to wipe it away. "You're seated in Vivianne's chair. She's currently resting after being sent on a mission to keep some more unruly subjects in line," he explained. "Tell them to bring in the food," he said to the servant at the chair. Lysander shook his head.