I wanted to slam my fist on the table and shout at Malcolm for being a chump to believe this woman was our queen.
After doubting myself about the lass, validation was better than a free mug of ale. Which tasted a whole lot better than this watered-down crap.
“Laddie,” I called. “Bring us some ale an’ check on our food. I’m famished.”
When the boy brought a pitcher with him, I took the whole thing.
“None for me.” Malcolm held up a hand. His face was pale.
Part of me was a bit sorry for him. Not like he’d had many times that he’d been dead wrong. But hell. Our queen wouldn’t hate Fae so much as Avery seemed to and she certainly wouldn’t be trying to kill the lot of us.
After Malcolm’s scolding with the bread earlier, I grunted at Avery. “Ale?”
She shook her head. “I’d like my knives back now.”
I stared at her like she was daft.
“You promised me two of my weapons back: an iron and a silver dagger.”
“Aye, but not until we are out o’ the castle. Do ye think us stupid enough ta give ye the means ta ‘arm us while we sit waitin’ fer our meal?”
“No, but both of you have swords and knives. I only want to be able to defend myself if I need to.”
“Defend yerself?” I ground out. “Ye attack Fae fer sport or whatever kicks ye get out o’ it.”
“Darrius,” Malcolm said in a warning tone.
“Nay. The lass be a grown woman with the stench of Fae blood on ‘er ‘ands. She’s lumped us in with vermin an’ monsters.” I glanced over to her. “Deny it. I dare ye. Deny that if ye were able ta right now ye’d slit our throats an’ think nothing o’ it.”
High time Malcolm realized the truth about this woman. We already had confirmation she couldn’t be our queen by her admission. To think otherwise was foolhardy.
She was a ticking time bomb, and we were only keeping her with us to get Simeon back.
It might not be a bad idea to give her as a trade for our cousin. Even the Gwyllion. Would make use of a half-blood human/Fae mix. Bonus if they knew of her from her kills.
She swallowed hard, gripping her napkin tight in a fist.
“Ye see?” I grabbed the ale. “She cannae deny me words. She hates us all an’ wants every last Fae dead.”
“Pardon me, my lords and lady,” Mrs. Browning whispered from the kitchen.
Her eyes sparkled as she looked at the human—like the Brownie believed too that this woman was our missing queen. They were all fools.
“The food is ready.”
“I’m suddenly not hungry.” Malcolm pushed up from the table and after a deep bow to her and then Avery, he left.
Good. More fer me. “Bring the food.”
Avery took a long drink of her wine but didn’t move or say anything. At least she knew where I stood now. She couldn’t bat her eyelashes and expect me to turn to putty at her feet.
Nay. I’d never let a woman rule over my heart and mind ever again.
Mrs. Browning placed several large pasta dishes on the table with the help of her husband. I dunked each one into a pile on my plate, stirring them up together.
“Ye goin’ ta eat?” I asked in a sarcastic tone. Hoped I’d affected her. Made her question her motives and her beliefs that all Fae were evil. Not that I cared what she thought of me.
“Of course.” She scooped up a plate of white sauce and noodles. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Instead of answering, I stuffed my mouth with pasta and snapped it closed.
“A warrior needs to keep up their strength.” She gingerly wound another forkful of food. “If I let emotions take over all the time, I’d be dead.”
“True.” I poked a chunk of chicken. “Which be why I never let anythin' get in the way o’ food, drink, an’ fightin’.”
For a few minutes, we didn’t speak, just enjoyed the good food. It was a comfortable silence. Except, I found myself wondering what she thought. Wanted to know what made her smile or laugh.
Wait. The lass had shown an interest in our swords, but Simeon bested both me and Malcolm with the weapon. “I can teach ye better knife throwin’ if the storm still rages once we’ve finished eatin’.”
She smirked. “Oh, I think I could show you a few tricks.”
“Nay, lass, ye hit me thigh earlier, remember? Didnae even get near the major artery there.”
“Because I was recovering from poison.” Daintily, she took a sip of her wine, then leaned forward, cradling her chin in the palm of her hand. “Otherwise, you’d be either dead or never able to have children.”
As if she had stroked my cock, it sprang to attention, pushing against my trousers.
“Then I challenge ye ta prove it,” I said without thinking it through. “Let’s throw at some targets an’ see which of us is better.”
Her eyes sparkled in the firelight from the hearth. “And what do I get if I win?”
I barked out a laugh. Too bad this woman wanted to kill us all. “A choice at any of me weapons.”
“Deal.” She held out her hand. “Let’s shake on it.”
“Wait, lass.” I set my fork down. “We haven’t discussed me prize if I be the winner.”
She rolled her eyes. “Ok, I don’t have anything of value except my knives—which you already took.”
“Hmmm.” I scratched my cheek. “Surely ye have somethin’ to offer me.”
“How about an I won’t kill you without a two-second warning?” She beamed at me and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe or move, like she had paralyzed me.
For an instant I forgot she was the enemy and she’d as soon cut out my heart as not.