The Necromancer ✓

Chapter Eleven

Nann brought breakfast to my room and I ate it in bed. It was weird. Not just eating in bed, and being served, which was a pretty novel experience, but the food. I'm still not sure what it was, but it tasted sweet and was crispy on the outside.

I brought the book with me to the library, so I could keep reading while I waited for him. I was having trouble focusing on the book that morning, though. I kept thinking about what Kieran might have planned for the day. I was hoping it didn't turn out to be as embarrassing as Zephan's tour of their art gallery, when he appeared beside me. Zephan that is, not Kieran.

"What do you think of your heritage?" Zephan asked, nodding at the book he'd given me.

"I think I was better off not knowing it," I admitted.

"Really?" he spun a chair around to face me and sat down.

"They were horrible," I said. Zephan laughed. "What's so funny?"

"You've been reading the annotations, haven't you?" he asked, smiling like he knew something that I didn't.

"Yes," I said, honestly. "Shouldn't I?"

"It doesn't make much difference," he shrugged, "so long as you remember that the notes were written by their political enemies."

"Are you saying that these," I held the book up and raised an eyebrow, "things never happened?"

"No," he shook his head, "they did happen. It's just that everything's slanted from the perspective of victory, you know?"

"I'm not sure that I do."

"Obviously our side wanted to make it look like a complete, unquestionable victory. And the only way to do that is to make sure that the bad guys," he pointed to me to indicate that the 'bad guys' were the necromancers, presumably, "look so evil that their exile is the only possible course of action."

"Are you saying there were other options?"

"I'm saying," Zephan leaned closer to me, "that your people should never have been cast out of Faerie Land." He placed his hand on my denim clad knee, resting his fingers lightly against the inner curve, where the skin gets more sensitive as it approaches the back of the knee. "You shouldn't have been forced to grow up around humans." Zephan's summer blue eyes caught mine in a stare that seemed to penetrate to the bottom of my soul. "You shouldn't have had to hide who or what you are."

I clutched the edges of the book, trying to imprint my senses with the soft leather binding. Anything to distract myself from Zephan's focused attention. I'd thought he was charming when other people were around. Alone, he was damn near dazzling. I felt something inside me grow soft and quivering.

"You are one of the Greater Fae," he said, leaning closer to me, "one of the Deadly Aristocracy. No amount of perceived power abuse should have driven you from your home." It was almost as if he knew exactly which buttons to press. I know that he was talking about the history of my people, but it felt like he was talking about me; about my parents making me live with Catriona because they didn't understand my power. "You aren't a freak, Laurel Tierney," he said, gently, "you're extraordinary."

I glanced away from Zephan's eyes. I didn't know how I was supposed to take that. Compliments weren't something I was used to. I saw Kieran standing in the doorway staring at me.

"Kieran," I said, surprised. I opened my mouth to ask how long he'd been there, but the anger on his face made me close my mouth.

"Zephan," he nodded. Zephan stood up, dragging his fingertips in a slow caress off my knee. I blushed, realizing how the gesture must have looked to Kieran.