Chapter Eighteen: Lessons

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My half-baked revenge left a bad taste in my mouth. No matter the sweetness of a meal, all I could taste was bitter defeat.

"Still as grumpy as a kicked cat I see," Knut smirked against his teacup at me from his new spot in the chair at the head of the dining table. The chair where his father had been sitting the first time we'd met. I kept stirring my untouched tea, only growling in response. "Eat. Your lessons begin today, and you won't be able to concentrate if you're hungry." He crunched on a handful of almonds with his sharp teeth, just trying to be as loud and obnoxious as possible.

My head throbbed in protest of the loud noise. Before we'd headed home, we'd spent a few hours in my favorite tavern so I could drink away my sorrow with the familiar swill I'd been raised on. I didn't even remember the ride home. Now, I was paying for it with the worst hangover I'd ever had in my life. It had been a few days since that night and my head still felt like it was about to split open. "Must we start this today?" I sighed. I poked at my hard-boiled egg with my knife. "I'm tired." And sick. And angry. And sad. And bloody annoyed.

"Should we go back to bed then? That would suit me just as well, but I doubt you'd get much rest." Knut laughed lowly when I rolled my eyes. I hadn't been in the mood for intimacy at all. I had banished him from our bed and rather than retreating to one of our many guest rooms, he'd taken to stretching out on the couch in his study. He liked to tease me, but he hadn't pressed the issue. He let me be angry, let me shove him away and I let him leave the door between our rooms open.

"Can you at least tell me why I'm dressed this way?" Ask had put me in a man's breeches and undershirt that morning instead of the comfortable green dress I'd begged for.

"It's a surprise." He chimed, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Another one?"

"I'm chockfull of them."

I sighed for the hundredth time that morning and pushed my plate away. "Have you sent your scouts after Jasper yet?"

"Of course. I sent the goblin you and the twins off to follow his trail as soon we returned from the human lands that night." He said slowly. Hesitating.

"And?"

He looked away from me and sipped his tea. Bad news. "They followed his scent to the brothel. Lily's gone too. After that, the trail ended at the port. They must have taken a ship somewhere."

My chest heaved against the crushing weight of hatred. "He ran off with her...of course he did. They're off living happily ever after while Rolland and Rhys are rotting in the ground." I stabbed the slab of ham on my plate with my knife. Again, and again and again until the plate beneath cracked in half and I started hitting the table. "He threw us to the wolves over that filthy whore."

"He can run to the ends of the earth, but we'd still catch up to him eventually." Knut reached over and stilled my hand. "Unfortunately, we can't wait until you're in a better mood to begin your lessons. We've only got a few months to prepare you. You need to be able to at least understand most of the Faerie tongue before the solstice. They won't speak English just for your benefit and I will not always be able to translate for you. It's not nearly enough time as we need, which is why I called on someone to give me a hand." He turned his head towards a doorway.

Ib strode into the room, carrying a large book beneath his arm. He was simply dressed in all black breeches and undershirt. His throat was bare, the collar of his shirt open, showing off his perfect alabaster skin. His white-blond hair was tousled as if blue-tinged fingers had just been running through it.

The changeling sidestepped the knife I flung at him. It crashed into the stone wall behind him with a musical clang. "Knut, call off your hound, please." He growled, his chest heaving in surprise.

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