End of the World (Champion of the Sidhe urban fantasy series) by S. A. Archer, S. Ravynheart Page B
Authors: S. A. Archer, S. Ravynheart
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in anticipation.
Lugh slowed mere strides before reaching the elf. Had Kaitlin seemed frightened, or even unsuspecting, he’d have quietly detained the elf and discovered his true intent, for serving drinks certainly was not it. The elf removed a folded napkin from his tray. As he moved passed Kaitlin he passed the napkin to the girl without slowing down.
Kaitlin accepted it and then cast an anxious glance about her. Lugh turned away before her eyes could fix upon him. He murmured a random compliment to one of the ladies and she rewarded him with a musical laugh. When he pivoted back toward the princess she no longer faced in his direction, but rather slipped through the crowd with hast. The silk of her dress flowed about her lithe, dancer’s figure. Her loose hair spilled down her back before curling into soft ringlets that bounced youthfully against her back, too eager to make her escape to depart without noticeable excitement.
Curiosity sharp, he trailed behind her. The barrier over the castle prevented Glamour as well as teleportation. Not that following the young princess required an inordinate amount of stealth. Once he saw her safely to her private chambers, he suspected he knew her intentions. And the potential dangers.
Chapter Two
Not another fey stirred in the dark courtyard outside the family wing of the castle. Lugh expected someone would attempt to scale the castle wall, perhaps even the elf he’d spied slipping something to the princess. But, it was the princess herself, clad in dark form-fitting pants and sweater like a thief, who lowered herself to the courtyard with a rope.
Saying nothing, he watched her descend with practiced ease, for he was well aware that this was not her first time slipping out without permission. Not that she truly required permission; at two-hundred-some-odd years she was well old enough to go where she pleased. Be that as it may, she was still a youngling among the long-lived Sidhe, and a princess whose safety, or the threat thereof, could serve as leverage to the unscrupulous.
Lugh slipped silently to the wall next to the trailing end of the rope. He leaned back, his arms crossed, patient for her to climb down and notice him. She was beside him, practically face to face with him, before she squeaked in surprise and dropped to her feet. “Bless it, Lugh!” She whispered with the annoyance of her fright. “You scared the spit out of me.” She smacked his arm with girlish strength that was barely noticeable.
“Sneaking off for a midnight tryst?” He teased, but highly doubting that was the truth.
“Mercy, you’re going to do that thing you do, aren’t you? You do know how utterly annoying you are when you play Champion, don’t you?” Kaitlin didn’t wait for his reply. Instead she shielded her fair face with the dark hood of her sweater and rushed off at a jog.
With his longer legs and swift stride, Lugh kept pace with just a brisk walk. “I pride myself on the knowledge that I have annoyed every single Sidhe I have ever met at least once.” When she cut him an incredulous glance, he grinned back with just enough brightness to cause her to roll her eyes in that amusingly exasperated way she had.
“Only once?” She snorted rather unlady-like. “I don’t need a chaperone. Any chance I can talk you out of shadowing me?”
“Slim to none.”
She spun around to face him, to block him, her tapered finger pointing at his face. “You can’t mess this up, Lugh. This is important. I’m not going anywhere, not taking another step, until you promise me, for real Champion-of-the-Sidhe, promise me, that you will not do or say anything that will mess this up.” Even as he opened his mouth to respond she shook her finger at him again with complete seriousness in her young face. “And no fey-logic excuses to weasel out of your word.”
That closed his mouth. Her blunt rebellion was almost Unseelie in unbridled determination. Even as Lugh searched her face, the
Lugh slowed mere strides before reaching the elf. Had Kaitlin seemed frightened, or even unsuspecting, he’d have quietly detained the elf and discovered his true intent, for serving drinks certainly was not it. The elf removed a folded napkin from his tray. As he moved passed Kaitlin he passed the napkin to the girl without slowing down.
Kaitlin accepted it and then cast an anxious glance about her. Lugh turned away before her eyes could fix upon him. He murmured a random compliment to one of the ladies and she rewarded him with a musical laugh. When he pivoted back toward the princess she no longer faced in his direction, but rather slipped through the crowd with hast. The silk of her dress flowed about her lithe, dancer’s figure. Her loose hair spilled down her back before curling into soft ringlets that bounced youthfully against her back, too eager to make her escape to depart without noticeable excitement.
Curiosity sharp, he trailed behind her. The barrier over the castle prevented Glamour as well as teleportation. Not that following the young princess required an inordinate amount of stealth. Once he saw her safely to her private chambers, he suspected he knew her intentions. And the potential dangers.
Chapter Two
Not another fey stirred in the dark courtyard outside the family wing of the castle. Lugh expected someone would attempt to scale the castle wall, perhaps even the elf he’d spied slipping something to the princess. But, it was the princess herself, clad in dark form-fitting pants and sweater like a thief, who lowered herself to the courtyard with a rope.
Saying nothing, he watched her descend with practiced ease, for he was well aware that this was not her first time slipping out without permission. Not that she truly required permission; at two-hundred-some-odd years she was well old enough to go where she pleased. Be that as it may, she was still a youngling among the long-lived Sidhe, and a princess whose safety, or the threat thereof, could serve as leverage to the unscrupulous.
Lugh slipped silently to the wall next to the trailing end of the rope. He leaned back, his arms crossed, patient for her to climb down and notice him. She was beside him, practically face to face with him, before she squeaked in surprise and dropped to her feet. “Bless it, Lugh!” She whispered with the annoyance of her fright. “You scared the spit out of me.” She smacked his arm with girlish strength that was barely noticeable.
“Sneaking off for a midnight tryst?” He teased, but highly doubting that was the truth.
“Mercy, you’re going to do that thing you do, aren’t you? You do know how utterly annoying you are when you play Champion, don’t you?” Kaitlin didn’t wait for his reply. Instead she shielded her fair face with the dark hood of her sweater and rushed off at a jog.
With his longer legs and swift stride, Lugh kept pace with just a brisk walk. “I pride myself on the knowledge that I have annoyed every single Sidhe I have ever met at least once.” When she cut him an incredulous glance, he grinned back with just enough brightness to cause her to roll her eyes in that amusingly exasperated way she had.
“Only once?” She snorted rather unlady-like. “I don’t need a chaperone. Any chance I can talk you out of shadowing me?”
“Slim to none.”
She spun around to face him, to block him, her tapered finger pointing at his face. “You can’t mess this up, Lugh. This is important. I’m not going anywhere, not taking another step, until you promise me, for real Champion-of-the-Sidhe, promise me, that you will not do or say anything that will mess this up.” Even as he opened his mouth to respond she shook her finger at him again with complete seriousness in her young face. “And no fey-logic excuses to weasel out of your word.”
That closed his mouth. Her blunt rebellion was almost Unseelie in unbridled determination. Even as Lugh searched her face, the
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