Caledonia Fae 04- Druid Lords by India Drummond

best interests at heart.
    This new guy, Prince Koen, threatened the delicate balance of their arrangement. He barely even looked old enough to shave, but likely he was over a hundred. Funny how Munro had come to believe a century was young, when he himself was only in his mid-thirties. Over the years with Eilidh, he’d adjusted to the fae way of thinking. Where would Koen fit into their lives?
    Munro understood that she was a queen, and as such her role was bigger than her personal desires. They would never share a normal existence even by fae standards, much less human ones.
    The landscaped whizzed by as he pondered and ran. Canton Dreich grew nearer by the second, and still he had no idea what he would say to her. A part of him was angry at her choice, but even more than that, he was shocked. She hadn’t even paused to consider him or Griogair before she made such a monumental commitment.
    Crossing through the last lush forest on his way to Eilidh’s castle, he barely noticed the scenery or paused to relish their bond, as he often would when entering Caledonia. Instead, his mind buzzed with what ifs and whys .
    Her presence nestled in his thoughts, and his feet pointed straight to her. The longer they shared the rare and ancient fae-human bond, the more naturally he sensed her responses. At the moment, varying emotions flooded her mind at once: worry, annoyance, exhaustion, and exasperation. Beneath it all, however, an undercurrent of her love for him surged into his awareness. Without that frequent reminder, their relationship might not have endured as well or as long as it had. He recognised that no matter what else happened, she loved him deeply, and that knowledge made so many things bearable.
    His internal compass led him to a formal reception room on the third level of the castle. He nodded to the saluting Watchers he passed and tried not to notice the servants who melted out of view as soon as he approached.
    Without pausing to be announced, Munro strode into the room, past the courtiers and attendants, past the twenty-four members of the joint conclave. He nodded to Prince Koen and his father and walked directly to Eilidh, who sat frowning on a wide, carved wooden throne. Prince Griogair stood behind her, leaning languidly with his hand resting on the high back of the throne. His swirling violet eyes met Munro’s, and the prince gave the druid an almost conspiratorial tilt of the head.
    “Your Majesty,” Munro said with a respectful bow.
    Eilidh’s stiff posture reflected the rigidity in her thoughts. She had avoided Munro’s gaze until he spoke, instead listening to the conclave, who chattered hurriedly to one another. Finally, she turned to Munro. “My lord druid,” she replied. “I didn’t expect you today.”
    He smiled, hoping to break the tension. “Surprise,” he said quietly.
    Although she didn’t return his smile, a ripple of silent laughter moved through their bond. She often said she loved his distinctly human nature.
    “I thought I’d come meet this lad you’re planning to marry,” he said, careful to keep his tone light, even though she would detect his inner conflict.
    She nodded and gestured to her other side, and Munro moved to a position opposite Griogair’s but a pace forward. After all, as a druid, he technically outranked her. Still, that tradition was ancient and hadn’t been observed for years, so Munro took care not to push the boundaries of propriety too far.
    “I present Princes Koen and Estobar, formerly of Andena,” she said to Munro, then turned her attention to the two men before her. “I introduce you to Lord Druid Quinton Munro.”
    They both nodded to Munro with respect, but Koen’s expression revealed his unmasked curiosity . His aqua eyes evaluated everything about Munro, taking in his appearance, his clothing, his closeness to Eilidh , and the glance he gave Griogair. Munro couldn’t decide if his immediate dislike for the prince was rooted in the lad’s