Hels's Gauntlet [Forbidden Legacy 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Read Free

barrier, the snow continued to fall.

Chapter Two
     
    Helcyon folded his arms and leaned back against the wall. The throne room hummed with activity, supplicants arriving in droves to petition the Danae for permission to travel. Despite the chaos and hate crimes, so many ached to relocate. The thrill of living on the other side, access to the rich resources, sunshine, and most of all, to the people proved alluring to even the most reclusive of the Elves, Brownies, Goblins, and much to his surprise, a Troll. Even the current wave of hate and fear sweeping through the conservative communities could feed Fae power.
    The Danae, however, appeared less than giving today. Despite the partnered pair kneeling on the ground, her cool gaze hunted amongst those seeking her permission. Around her, the guard shifted—trained to stand for hours, days if necessary, presenting a united front that never wavered—yet they seemed restless today. But the press of bodies, the chatter of too many voices, the pounding of so many hearts was enough to make even the most jaded warrior uneasy.
    “Silence,” the Danae spoke, interrupting the mated couple’s presentation. The male Elf’s brows drew together in disapproval, but his wife hung onto his arm, quelling whatever unwise response he may have retaliated with. The Danae stood, and the silence rippled across the supplicants. As one, they dropped to a knee before their Queen. Those lining the wall, like Helcyon and the members of her personal court, did not drop to a knee, but they did lower their gazes.
    The Danae strode down the steps, leaving her guard to close rank around her as she weaved through the room. Her silken dress whispered in hushed accompaniment as she prowled. Helcyon studied the tiled floor, awareness of the Danae’s halt in the middle of the room prickling along his skin. He knew the moment her gaze alighted on him.
    “She isn’t here.” Her voice carried through the marbled hall as though she stood right next to him.
    “No, Danae. She works tirelessly on your behalf, but must rest as humans need to do.” He modulated his tone, careful to maintain neutrality in the words that might otherwise be interpreted as insult. Cassandra’s identity was no longer safe in the Court. Too many rumors swirled about her bloodlines.
    “Was my command to present her unclear, Lord Helcyon?” The Queen’s diminutive feet appeared in his line of vision. Unsurprisingly, her toes were bare of adornment beneath her silken dress. She disliked all shoes. Unlike her great-great-granddaughter who seemed to worship the things. He swallowed the twitch of amused indulgence at Cassandra’s need for so many shoes. In the short weeks since she announced her pregnancy, she ordered dozens of different pairs until he and Jacob had been forced to add a new storage space so she could “organize” them properly. Neither he nor the Wizard minded the mundane activity, particularly as it was the first time she truly smiled since the death of the Wizard Dalton.
    “No, Your Majesty. Your orders were clear. As I noted upon my arrival, the Lady Cassandra continues with the duties you tasked to her, smoothing our way back into the world. Negotiations remain in a delicate stage, too delicate for her to abandon at a whim.”
    A collective inhale punctured the silence. Few in the throne room would ever imagine speaking thusly to the Danae, but Helcyon had known her for generations. He’d served her father. He’d served her. In essence, he knew where all of her bodies had been buried.
    He buried more than a few himself.
    Cassandra would not come Underhill again. Not until her pregnancy was safely past, her child delivered, and the question of the child’s nature was answered.
    Helcyon would die first.
    “Leave us.” The Danae’s command barely left her lips when a rush of feet echoed through the chamber. The great hall’s many occupants couldn’t leave quickly enough. Those of her Court who lined the walls