Fates Entwined: Halven Rising

Keen exited Reese’s room and scanned the guards. He shot each of them a look, saying without words what he’d do to them if they stared too long at Reese, or in a manner he thought disrespectful.

What was the small human trying to do? Every male in the palace wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off her.

Keen’s fists would be busy tonight.

He glanced back as Reese attempted to keep up in that ridiculous gown.

Ridiculous was a strong word. She was unimaginably beautiful—so beautiful she’d stolen his breath the moment he’d entered the room and caught sight of her.

Humans possessed beauty, he reminded himself. They could charm, and had done so for centuries. It was why Halven existed. Keen had believed, like all Fae, that the offspring of a Fae and human union were without value. At best, Halven were a nuisance, diluting the angel blood. But Keen’s charge, Elena Rosales, had proven magically powerful. As powerful as many Fae, or more so, and that was something even Keen couldn’t ignore.

That did not mean he supported matings between Fae and humans, or Halven.

It didn’t matter how beautiful Reese was; a union between the two of them would never be. Not that he had considered it—he would never consider something so preposterous.

Keen waited near the door as Reese swept out. Ulric took in her outfit, as did the other guards. All of them quickly turned away at Keen’s quelling glance. The only guard who didn’t was Ulric. He scanned Reese’s figure and shot Keen a worried look.

After Reese had described Ulric’s suggestive words to her in the dungeon, Keen had immediately sought out the guard and made it clear to him that he was to keep his attentions off her. By breaking the guard’s nose. And his arm. And his leg. Fae healed quickly; it was but a minor scratch. Had Ulric touched Reese, he would be growing a new arm right now.

After that was sorted, Keen had ordered Ulric to check on Reese. Reese was protected under the crown of New Kingdom, as long as Keen gave his loyalty to Portia. She was safe, but it was good to know another Fae watched out for the small human while Keen juggled his new duties inside the palace.

Most Fae treated Reese indifferently. Ulric’s brotherly concern for the girl was intriguing. If Keen had sensed anything remotely sensual from the guard, he would have had him removed from duty. Thus far, Ulric appeared protective, which Keen approved of. He would allow Ulric to continue looking out for her.

The others—the ones whose eyes nearly popped out of their heads at the sight of Reese’s creamy skin revealed by the red gown—would be dealt with later.

She finally reached his side. “Walk more quickly,” he said. “I haven’t got all night.”

Her pert nose tilted up. “Worried you’ll miss the celebration of your defection from the kingdom that raised and cared for you?”

He turned down the hallway, glancing back to be sure that she was following him. “Derek’s father murdered my family. I don’t feel loyalty to the Oldlander crown, even if Derek now rules.”

“What about to the people? Your friends?”

“I have no friends in Old Kingdom.”

“Why am I not surprised?” she muttered.

“I have been an Emain guard on Earth for a long time—since before you were born. My companions reside there.”

Her shoes stopped clicking on the floor beside him. Keen halted and looked back. She stood staring at him.

“What do you mean since before I was born? You’re my age, or you look my age. How old are you?”

He lifted one shoulder. “Approximately your age—physically. Chronologically, I am one hundred and twenty-seven years old. Give or take. The Tirnan-Earth continuum varies by season, year—it is difficult to predict with certainty.”

“A hundred and… What the hell, Keen!”

She glanced at the guards, a good distance behind them now. At her look, they turned their heads quickly. They’d been observing her walk down the hall, the heathens.

“Are all of you that old?”

“No,” he said, and waited for her to reach his side before he walked on. They’d never make it to the ballroom at this pace. “Most are older.”

The heels she wore clacked quickly as she attempted to match his pace. “So you’re trying to tell me you’re one of the young ones?”

“I am not suggesting anything; I am young. But don’t mistake that for inexperience.” He shot her a cocky grin.

Reese rolled her eyes, impertinent as ever. “I guess it doesn’t matter. You’re immortal. Of course you and the rest of your kind look younger longer… Hey, will I look younger too? Because that would be awesome.”

“We know very little of Halven sired by royal Fae. A Halven with no abilities lives longer than the average human.”

“I suppose that’s something,” she said, her gown swishing sensually against her delicate curves as she walked beside him. All the while, Keen caught every male, female, servant, and nobleman they passed, gawking at her.

The men’s looks were licentious, the women’s jealous. Reese would not make allies if she continued to ignore their customs.

The guards at the entrance to the celebration stood at attention as Keen and Reese approached, the sound of strings and flutes and deep bass floating out.

“My lord,” the head guard said, and nodded at Keen.

“My lord,” Reese mouthed, her expression taunting.

Keen had been given back his title after he agreed to Portia’s terms. He’d been born a nobleman, but his status had been stripped from him when he gave up his right to the throne.

They entered the ballroom to the sound of traditional Fae music. A symphony of what could best be described as a Viking-Gaelic fusion.

Reese gaped. “Wow. This makes the Oscars after-party my parents took me to last year pale in comparison. Is that champagne flowing from a waterfall?”

“That is brune, fermented allon leaves, and much stronger than champagne. Do not drink it.”

Reese nodded absently as she took in the diamond and sapphire chandeliers overhead. She appeared to scan the ornate woodwork and beveled mirrored walls that made what was a grand room appear even larger.

Keen sighed. She was completely distracted. He’d be lucky to get her out of here alive. “Do not leave my side, little one.”

“Sure,” she said, staring at the women walking past.

He’d given her two direct orders, and she’d offered no backlash. Which could only mean she wasn’t paying attention to a word he said.

A Fae ball was likely different than anything she’d been to before. Fae finery often included a blend of styles from centuries past, with beading and embroidery on the dresses, and embroidered sleeves on the tunics for the men. Brune literally flowing from the ceiling ensured everyone enjoyed themselves, and mounds of colorful fruit and finger foods were offered throughout the room as refreshments. In a few hours, a more formal dinner would also be served in a room furnished for dining, and just as elegant as this one. The dinner would consist of multiple courses, an array of desserts, and enough brune to have the guests slouching in their seats.

Keen didn’t bother with the nonsense of formal court dress. He was a soldier. He wore his uniform—black pants tucked into Fae military boots, and a black long-sleeved shirt that magically protected against extreme weather.

The dress Keen had provided for Reese when she’d first arrived was a servant’s gown—it was also the most modest of the palace attire. He’d known it would enrage her, given how little she wore in the Earth realm, but he couldn’t help himself. Though he wouldn’t admit it if asked, he enjoyed riling the small human. She was most entertaining.

Little did he know she would retaliate with the red dress.

Reese had never backed down from him—a situation he found as infuriating as it was intriguing.

He sighed. If he made it out of New Kingdom with the girl safely, it would be a miracle.

Keen spotted Portia and Marlon at the head of the ballroom, dressed in full noble regalia. He placed his hand lightly on Reese’s lower back and guided her over.

Portia took in each of them as they approached, her eyes narrowing on Reese’s gown.

Keen quickly tipped his head in a shallow bow. “It is an honor to be here.” He nodded to Marlon, who never seemed to stray far from Portia’s side.

Smart Halven. Regardless of Marlon’s current alliance, Keen’s people despised him. Should he leave his protector, he would find himself at the end of a sword.

“Yes, an honor,” Portia said absently, still staring at Reese’s dress. “She does clean up nicely, does she not, Marlon? Quite beautiful, this one.”

Portia’s thoughts were a jumble, cleverly hidden from Keen’s abilities, but Marlon’s mind was more transparent.

Marlon’s gaze flickered to Reese, then drifted off. He felt no familial connection or care for his half-sister.

Considering Marlon had had Reese thrown in the New Kingdom dungeon, Keen wasn’t surprised. Nor would he ever forget what Marlon St. Just had done to her, or his people. If it hadn’t been for Portia’s protection, Marlon would have been a dead man the moment Keen set foot on Tirnan soil.

“Our guest this evening will arrive soon,” Portia said, searching beyond them. Her gaze drifted to Keen. “I believe your association with her will prove most fruitful. I am eager for the two of you to be reunited.”

He nodded, not allowing his surprise to show. He had no knowledge of a special guest tonight.

Reese glanced between him and Portia. She seemed to concentrate particularly hard on the queen. Her attention was so acute that he looked down to study her face. If only he could read her thoughts.

“May I have this dance?”

Keen had been so focused on Reese he hadn’t noticed another Fae approach. He glared at the man standing behind her, waiting for her reply. Wearing slim chartreuse pants and a deep navy tunic with flounces at the wrists, the man was clearly a dandy, with dark blond hair slicked to the side and jeweled rings on several of his digits. Not noble, but higher in the ranks than most.

Keen rolled his eyes, but Reese smiled over her shoulder. She opened her mouth to speak.

“No, you may not,” Keen said before she could reply.

She shot him a look of annoyance.

“Now, Keen,” Portia said, “if the girl wishes to dance, she may dance. We want her happy.”

Since when did Portia care about Reese’s happiness? Portia kept the girl alive because she wanted to use Reese in some way Keen hadn’t yet figured out.

Reese seemed confused by Portia’s sudden change of heart as well, because she looked at the queen in the same concentrated manner she had a moment ago.

“Shoo,” Portia said, and waved Reese away. “Dance. Be merry.” With a shallow smile, she peered out over the dancers, searching again. For the surprise guest?

Perhaps a dance would not harm the girl. It was early yet. A single glass of brune would make a human pass out, but it took much more before his kind became intoxicated. As long as the dandy kept his hands to himself, all would be fine.

Reese accepted the Fae’s outstretched arm, and Keen watched them walk off.

“She is safe,” Portia said, eyeing him. “Now, about our guest. It has been a while, but I’m certain you will remember her. Ah”—Portia stared past him, smiling—“here she is now.”

Keeping a close eye on Reese as she whirled about the room in the arms of another, Keen paused to glance at the entrance.

And met the gaze of an Old Kingdom companion from his youth.

“Illa Radnor,” Portia said in greeting once Illa had made her way over. “I assume you remember Keen of the now deceased Albrechts?”

Interesting that Portia chose to point out Keen’s solitude in Tirnan—no family, few he’d call friends. A situation similar to hers.

The only true ally Portia had was her daughter, Beatrice, who’d made few appearances these last several days. Portia’s old friends had been the New Kingdom royal family, Elena’s ancestors—and the first people Portia had murdered in order to rule New Kingdom.

“Greetings.” Illa smiled brightly.

Keen nodded. “It has been many years.”

“It has.” She blushed and looked at Portia.

Portia stepped closer and linked Illa’s arm through Keen’s. “Far be it from me to intrude on a wonderful reunion. You must dance. Go, go—” She waved them off the way she’d done with Reese and the Fae courtier Keen was still keeping an eye on.

Reese and the Fae dandy had finished their dance and stood off to the side talking, Reese smiling at something he’d said.

Keen frowned. He took Illa’s hand and led her to the dance floor. They danced for a moment before he asked the obvious. “Why did Portia bring you here?”

Illa looked out at the crowd, a smile on her face. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Her mind was filled with New Kingdom guards twirling in pirouettes like ballerinas, but something else he couldn’t quite piece together flashed in the background. She was attempting to block her thoughts. Most weren’t as adept at blocking their minds as Portia. Given enough time, he’d figure out what Illa was keeping from him, but he wanted to know now. “You could not have changed this much in the quarter of a century since we last spoke. You were a bright girl—world-wise in the ways of the royal families. So I’ll ask again: why are you here?”

“Such a charmer.” She cut him an irritated, but playful glance. “I see nothing has changed.”

He snorted. “I am still the masterful warrior Niall predicted I would be. And still irresistible.”

“Still arrogant.”

He grinned. “It is good to see you too, Illa, though I must insist on an answer to my question.”

She peered in the direction of Reese and the dandy. “Who is the girl?” The question was light, curious. And a direct attempt at avoidance.

Keen nodded at a passing soldier. “What girl?”

“The one you can’t keep your gaze off—the Halven, if my senses are correct. Even in Old Kingdom we’ve heard of her capture.”

Keen’s back tensed. “I am here to ensure her safety while she resides in New Kingdom. Nothing more.”

“Truly?”

Illa had known him well when they were younger. It seemed she still knew him. “Of course.”

She made a sound in the back of her throat. “Very well. Keep your feelings for the girl to yourself. They are of no concern to me. As for why I’m here… I’m to become your bride.”