Oookay. Time for a different tack.
“I’m sure my father has more important things for you to attend to in his court.”
“What could be more important that accompanying my betrothed on a vital mission for our highest lord?”
I blew out a breath in frustration and decided diplomacy was overrated. “What will it take to get you to stay home?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “There is nothing you can say or do to compel me to remain in Lord Azazel’s court. I have suspected for some time, Madeline, that you are not taking our betrothal seriously. You must. You are bound to me by Azazel’s word before the court.”
“I do not and will not consider myself betrothed to you unless it is by my word, not Azazel’s,” I shot back.
Nathaniel loomed closer, crowding me, and I glared up at him. “Don’t try to physically intimidate me. I’m not afraid of you.”
He sneered. “Because your loyal dog is in the next room?”
“Because I know that I can blast you down those stairs and out of this building if I want to.” And just as if I had called it, I felt my magic alight within me again, feral and hungry, fed by my anger and frustration.
A small part of me knew that I should rein it in, not reveal myself to Nathaniel in this manner. I had been very careful over the last month whenever we met, and had pretended not to shudder when he touched my arm or placed his lips on my cheek. I knew that any coldness on my part would be interpreted as nerves or shyness by my father and that he would explain my behavior to Nathaniel as such. I shouldn’t be showing him now that I despised him.
“Don’t push me,” I said raggedly, trying to keep my magic and my temper under control. “I did not choose this.”
“Nor did I,” he replied angrily. “Do you think it is my wish to be engaged to a woman who clearly hates me?”
I looked up at him in surprise. There had been something in his voice, some hurt that I hadn’t suspected. It flickered in his eyes for an instant before he covered it with anger.
“I don’t hate you,” I said, and the lie tasted bitter on my tongue. Anything less than the truth would encourage him. But I had to walk the line that Azazel had laid out for me until I could figure out a way to break free of the binding.
Nathaniel looked uncertain for a moment. Then he surprised me, leaned forward as if he intended to kiss my mouth. For a second I felt a strange, unwanted flare of desire. The thought was so foreign that I couldn’t help my unconscious reaction, and stepped back until I felt my butt hit the counter. Irritation flared in his eyes.
“If you do not hate me, you are doing an excellent approximation of it.”
“What does it matter to you?” I said, feeling slightly embarrassed. “You get to marry Lord Azazel’s daughter, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he said tightly. “I do. I will arrive in three days to escort you to the court.”
He swept into a mocking bow and then exited out the open back door. And that reminded me.
I followed him to the top of the stairs and shouted down. “You’re going to pay for those doors you broke, buddy!”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Beezle snorted from behind me, and I turned around. He had flown in while my back was turned and was in the process of pulling a clawful of cookies from the cookie jar. I wondered how much of my conversation with Nathaniel he had listened to. “You could just use the money that Azazel gave you to fix them. Nathaniel was here on Azazel’s business.”
“I don’t want to touch that money,” I said.
Beezle shrugged and shoved chocolate mint cookies in his beak. “I don’t see why not.”
“You know why not. It’s just a rope by any other name, and I will not be bound to Azazel’s plans any more than I already am.”
“You won’t be bound to his plans by using that money to fix your doors.”
“No, but I’ll feel indebted to him. And he wants that. He wants me to accept what he offers so that he can manipulate me into place like a chess piece. Lucifer does, too.”
“Yeah, well. REALLY good luck trying to extricate yourself from those two. They’ve been tying mortals in knots for ages untold.”
“Yes,” I said, rubbing my head. I felt a headache coming on. This day, like so many others of late, had exhausted me. I remembered with fondness a time when the most difficult part of my day was filling out forms in triplicate.
I wandered listlessly into the living room, thinking I could convince J.B. or Gabriel to spring for a pizza for all of us.
“So,” J.B. said as soon as I entered the room. “I hear you’ve got a big mission coming up.”
I glared at Gabriel. “What did you blab about that for?”
Gabriel looked surprised. “Because he is Amarantha’s son.”
“The court that I’m supposed to be going to.”
“Yup,” J.B. said.
“That’s your mom.”
“Yup.”
“Do you think you might have mentioned sooner that you were a faerie prince?” I said, annoyed.
“Do you think you might have mentioned sooner that you were the daughter of one of the fallen?” he retorted.
“I didn’t find out until . . . Never mind,” I said, not wanting to get into a childish argument. “Whatever. So, you’ve got an in with the court. You can help me negotiate with your mom, then.”
J.B. shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’m her heir, but she doesn’t really like me.”
“Wonderful,” I said. “Is there any useful information you can give me?”
“Yeah. Don’t go. The last emissary from the fallen was beheaded in front of the entire court.”
I stared at J.B., who looked completely serious. “You’re not fucking with me, are you?”
He shook his head. “The negotiator sent by Lucifer so offended the queen—”
“Your mom,” I interjected.
“—that she had him summarily executed in front of the assembled court. Upon review of the diplomat’s actions, Lucifer agreed that offense had been given and that the queen’s actions were correct. However, it’s taken almost a year for the queen to accept the possibility of a new negotiation. My mother tends to hold grudges.”
“I see. I’m so looking forward to this trip. Hey, wait a second,” I said. “When I told you that I was Azazel’s daughter, you acted like you knew nothing of the fallen.”
“Which is exactly what I was supposed to do until I had discussed the matter with the queen.”
“Why?”
Gabriel glanced at J.B. “Faerie courts are very tightly protected, even among supernatural beings. Faeries tend to be quite . . .”
“. . . rigid and unreasonable,” J.B. finished. “There is a certain order, a certain procedure, for everything.”
“So that’s why you’re such an anal stick in the mud when you’re at work,” I said.
He ignored my jibe and continued. “Contact with other species is strictly limited by clearance from the queen. I came into contact with you at work, but that did not mean that I could reveal to you what I knew about the fallen without telling you my own identity.”
“If your identity is such a big secret, then how come Nathaniel knew who you were?”
“I met with him during the negotiations to accept a new diplomat to the court. I am frequently my mother’s errand boy,” he said, and he didn’t look too happy about it.
I supposed I could be annoyed at J.B. for not telling me about this sooner, but really, what right had I to the information? We were friends, but nothing more than that. Still, it made me look at him in a new light. He seemed just as constrained by his heritage as I.