The Hawk Lord by Amy Sumida
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The makeup wasn't that bad. Marla had outlined my eyes in black kohl and then painted a golden design on my forehead—a triangle pointing down between my eyes, connected by stylized wings that arched over my eyebrows. Then, along the height of each cheekbone, she'd painted a claw, tip downward. The forehead piece was to show my status as the Hawk Kingdom Valorian and the claws were to display my status as the Hawk Lord's consort. They kind of looked badass, to be honest.
“You like them,” Dal said with a smirk.
“Like what?” I played innocent.
We were in his carriage again, headed to the royal palace.
“The markings.” He waved a hand at my face. “You like them, don't you?”
I grinned. “Yeah, okay. They're sexy.”
“Yes,” Dal purred as he looked me over, “they are.”
I bit my lip and let my gaze wander down his body.
Dalsharan's gaze, however, wandered out the window. “We're here.”
Again, we went through a grand set of gates but these were grander than Dal's and had more guards posted around them. The palace itself stretched out three times wider and taller than the Hawk Lord's residence. The soaring walls were pale gold stone but the sunset painted them rose in sections, making it look as if the castle were blushing. Fae Hawks flew around the sleek towers, keeping a close watch on everyone below. And there were a lot of people to watch.
“Is it normally like this?” I asked as I shrank away from the window. I didn't like crowds unless they were soldiers. Soldiers could be relied upon to act like soldiers. Civilians were unpredictable; they could behave any damn way they wanted to.
Dalsharan scowled at the people milling about. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“No, it isn't usually like this.” He sat back and sighed. “He's invited the other kingdoms.”
“What?” I squeaked. “How would the other fae even get up here?”
“There are other ways up the mountain, Ravyn,” he said with a little grin. “We transport visitors in carry cages.”
“Carry cages?”
“Huge cages with seats inside them and handles on top. They're wide enough for two hawks to carry one together.”
“Oh. Okay. So, I'm meeting more than one king tonight?”
“You're likely meeting all the kings and all the queens of Varalorre,” he grumbled. “Damn Avamael and his pride. He wants to show you off.”
“Avamael?”
“Our king,” he whispered as our carriage stopped. “Do not call him by his given name.”
“I know that,” I huffed as the door opened.
Dal gave me a little grin before he climbed out. He waited for me this time, and we strode up a long set of stairs to the palace doors together. They were open, but men stood beside them anyway, bowing to those who passed by.
“Don't acknowledge the footmen,” he whispered to me when I started to nod to one.
“Why not?”
“It's not appropriate here. Just follow my lead.”
“Fine.”
I strode through a long corridor beside the Hawk Lord and when people stopped to bow or curtsy to us, I ignored them. I felt like a fucking asshole, but I guess that's expected of rich people. Dal led me deep into the palace, passing a huge room full of dancing, laughing people.
“The ballroom,” he said, nodding to it. “We'll be heading there after speaking with the King.”
We got in another of those elevator rooms and went to the 30th floor. This place had 30 floors! Something chimed and the door slid open to reveal a guard in armor, standing at attention, directly in front of the elevator.
He bowed when he saw us and stepped aside. “The King is in his library, Hawk Lord. He's expecting you.”
Dalsharan nodded to the guard and led me down a corridor to the right. I guess when someone speaks directly to you, you could nod. Or maybe guards were above footmen on the rudeness ladder.
We entered a vast room of books, golden fae light, and polished hardwood. There were no windows, only shelves of books covering every wall, and the walls were so high that a gallery bisected them. A curved column of stairs hid in one corner, leading up to the gallery. In the center of all this knowledge sat a man with messy blond hair, a skewed tunic, and a scowl. He wasn't scowling at anyone in particular but at a book that lay before him. He leaned over the tome on his forearms as if he might conquer it with sheer will.
We stepped up to him, and Dalsharan bowed. “Your Majesty.”
“Ah, Dalsharan!” The man's face changed abruptly, a grin spreading across it and turning him into something profoundly beautiful.
I tried not to gape at the Hawk King. He stood up, the light catching him fully, and his hair turned molten. He was slim, with sharp cheekbones and an even sharper jaw, but sleek muscles nudged at the lines of his tunic and his golden-brown skin hinted at time spent outdoors. He shook back his mane of gold, flinging it carelessly over his shoulders as if it annoyed him, and stepped forward to hug Dalsharan.
“My boy! It's so good to have you home.”
Boy, he'd said. He looked to be my age.
“It's good to be home,” Dal said warmly as he hugged the King back. “How are you, Ava?”
“I'm good.” He smacked Dal on the shoulder. “But you... you are better than good, aren't you?” He grinned from Dal to me. “And you must be the reason why.”
“Your Majesty.” I bowed.
“Come here, let me get a look at you.” The King waved me forward.
I stepped up and faced him.
“My consort, Ravyn Arandel, Your Majesty,” Dalsharan introduced me.
King Avamael stared me in the eye as if searching for something, then made a satisfied sound and nodded. “Goddess-touched. Clear as day. You are a miracle, my boy.” He patted my shoulder as he had done to Dal. “Welcome home.”
For some reason, that touched me deeply, and I had to blink away some stray moisture as I bowed again. “Thank you very much, Your Majesty.”
“Ah, we're in private, call me Avamael.” He leaned in to add, “Just don't tell anyone about it.”
I made a shocked bark of laughter that had him chuckling.
“Ava,” Dal chided, “you're giving him too much too soon.”
“I am, eh?” The King looked back at the Hawk Lord. “And you haven't? Consort in two days, so I've heard. I believe that's the fastest courtship ever recorded.”
“I saw his soul,” Dalsharan said simply.
King Avamael's expression softened. “Yes, I know. It's hard to resist the pure ones, isn't it?”
“He's not so pure anymore,” Dal said darkly. “He has a piece of me inside him now.”
“Ach, Dal.” Avamael shook his head. “When are you going to get over that shit?”
Dal made a rumbling growl.
“Maybe you can help him with that, Ravyn,” the King said to me.
“I'm trying, Your Majesty—I mean, Avamael. I think we've made some headway.”
Avamael laughed at the glowering Dal. “I think you have, my boy! I think you have. Look at him, he's pouting. You've turned the savage beast into a man.”
“I'm sorry, Your Majesty,” I sank back into formality since I was about to disagree with him, “but I must protest. It's true that my lord has great passion that can overwhelm him at times, but he controls it in front of his soldiers. He's the best warlord there is. Fair, wise, and strong. Everyone in his army respects him greatly. He has never been a beast. A beast cannot pick when and how to release its rage. Dal is a man who struggles with his beast.”
Dal's eyes went wide as the King gaped at me.
“You've misunderstood me, Ravyn,” the King said gently. “It is his struggle that I speak of, though perhaps not as articulately as you just have. I meant no offense when I called him a beast. It's not an insult for us fae; the Beasts are our other halves. We revere them nearly as much as our goddess. To struggle with our beast, as Dal does, is common and there is nothing shameful in it. They magnify our emotions and force us to experience life in a simpler way that can tempt the fae in us. Tempt us to terrifying hatred and profound love. You're right, Dalsharan Arandel is a great warlord and a great man. I count him as one of my closest friends. And as a friend, I've seen Dal set his beast loose. I've seen the fury take him. But now I see that fury fading and it's clear why. I'm grateful to the Goddess for sending you to him—a man to defend our defender. Take care of our Hawk Lord for me.”
“Yes, Sire,” I said fervently.
“Good man.” He smacked my cheek. “Now, I suppose we should attend this party since it's for you.”
“Thank you. I'm honored.”
“We are honored to have a Valorian,” the King said gleefully. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together, then looked around. “Now, where did I put that damn crown?”
Dalsharan lifted a crown of golden feathers. In addition to a band of feathers, like the circlet (no points means no crown evidently) that the Princess wore, there were feathers set at angles, pointing up from the base to form triangular points around the band. Within those points were set trillion-cut jewels that matched the one in Dal's circlet. I realized they also matched the Hawk Soul Stone.
Dal handed the crown to Avamael. “Did you have to invite all of Varalorre?”
“I only invited the Birds,” the King huffed as he took the crown and shoved it on his head, not bothering to smooth his hair back first.
“Well, at least that's something,” Dal grumbled.
“But there is one thing I need to tell you—warn you about, rather. Something I just learned today after the Royals arrived,” Avamael said grimly.
“What?” Dal frowned at his king—our king, I mean.
“He's here. He came with the Eagle.”
“Why would the Eagle King bring him?!” Dalsharan growled.
“Because Jaxon is the Eagle's latest toy,” King Avamael said gently.
Jaxon. Fuck. I stared at my lover and watched him swing through several emotions—fury, disgust, pain. Up rose that beast we were just discussing.
“But you've got a Valorian,” I said brightly to Dal. “Don't I trump a toy?”
Avamael looked back and forth between us, waiting for Dalsharan to answer.
“Come here.” Dal held a hand out to me.
I took it and let him pull me to him.
He kissed me on each cheek, over the claws, and said, “Yes, you are far greater than a toy. And I'm proud to have you with me tonight.”
I grinned broadly. “Then let's go show your ex what he's missing.”
“Indeed,” Dalsharan said. Then he bowed to our king. “After you, Your Majesty.”
Avamael chuckled and muttered to himself as he led the way out of the library, “Goddess-touched. No doubt about it.”
