The Pillars Of The World

he’s in love,” Aiden said blandly.
    Dianna’s head whipped around to face the Bard. Did Aiden know where Lucian had gone last night? Did he know he was talking about a Fae male becoming enamored with a human female? It didn’t matter.
    The barb in that bland comment had found its mark.
    Oh, there were Fae who became tangled up with human females and not only lost all sense of what was right and proper but actually developed feelings for the creatures. But none of them were Lucian, none of them were the Lightbringer. For him to become ensnared . . .
    “Dianna?” Lyrra said softly.
    Fighting to appear calm, Dianna inclined her head slightly toward Falco. “My thanks for bringing this to my attention, Falco. I’ll talk to my brother.”
    “I would advise you to do it soon,” Falco said. “It’s disturbing the rest of the Clan to see him acting so strange.”
    No one spoke until Falco left the room.
    “I saw Lucian briefly this morning,” Aiden said.

    “And?” Dianna prodded. “How did he seem?”
    “Pleased.” Aiden paused. “He wasn’t here last night.”
    “No.”
    “And he hadn’t gone to visit another Clan.”
    Dianna shook her head slowly. “But where he was is no concern of anyone but—”
    “I am not of this Clan, but Lucian and I are still kin through our fathers,” Aiden said sharply. He narrowed his eyes and studied her. “As you and I, therefore, are kin. It is my turn to ask for indulgence. I should have not been so sharp about being teased by you.”
    “There are different rules for kin?” Dianna said, forcing a smile.
    “There are,” Aiden said, not returning the smile. “Will you talk to him?”
    And say what ? Dianna wondered. “Not yet.” She raised a hand to prevent the protests Lyrra and Aiden seemed ready to make. “There is something that must be done before Lucian and I talk.”
    “Don’t let it wait too long,” Aiden said. Then he hummed a few bars of “The Lover’s Lament.”
    Understanding the warning, Dianna stood up. “We’ll talk again this evening.”
    “Good hunting,” Lyrra said softly.
    Dianna inclined her head and left the room.
    Good hunting, she thought as she hurried to her rooms. Yes. Not the usual kind of hunt, but a hunt nonetheless. Until she actually saw this female creature for herself, she was holding an empty quiver instead of sharp arguments that could find their mark.
    If Lucian was truly acting as strangely as Falco indicated, she would need arguments sharp enough to pierce a heart.
    Neall didn’t need to see the stone marker to know he was now on the part of the road that cut through Brightwood. He could feel a subtle change in the air, and his mood lightened in response to it. Even the gelding, which had been bred and raised on Ahern’s farm, could sense the boundaries of Ari’s land—and could sense them a little too well.
    Shortening the reins just enough to keep Darcy’s attention, Neall said, “We’ll approach at a dignified trot rather than cantering into the yard like unmannered colts.”
    Darcy snorted, then tested Neall’s sincerity by shifting from an easy trot to a brisk one.
    “We aren’t doing this,” Neall warned. His voice didn’t hold the sincerity it should have, but his hands were firm. The result was what he expected—a compromise in speed that obeyed the command from his hands but had listened carefully to the tone of his voice.
    Well, they’d just get to the cottage that much sooner, and he couldn’t argue with that.

    Yesterday had been a misery. At breakfast, it had only taken a glance at Odella’s face to know that the man she had met on the Summer Moon had not been to her liking, and that the man’s skills as a lover—
    or his lack of them—had made him even less appealing. The fact that she couldn’t refuse him until the dark of the moon without having the magic in the fancy turn on her made it even worse. It would have been bad enough to endure one time with a man who disappointed, but to suffer him again and again . . .
    Seeing the unhappiness in his cousin’s face had made Neall feel more sympathy for Odella, but it was a small cup of sympathy, and weak. Odella had not only brought this on herself by buying love magic from Granny Gwynn, she had also, with no kind intent, boxed Ari into the same corner.
    Royce had been suffering from a rough night with the bottle, an overindulgence that he’d probably hoped would numb the fear of seeing the Wild Hunt, and had been more