I pull my face at him. “What is deemed sartorially acceptable?” I ask, sarcastically.
“A gown for a start. Women here know their place,” he says.
Oh, like that, is it? I take in his own clothes and magick up something that I assume is Fae approved and he nods at my deep purple gown which shows off my now, thank the old gods, complete Fae markings, but covers up the Dragon on my back. “Good choice,” he says as I spin in a sarcastic circle for him. “The only thing the Faerie hate more than Vampires is Dragons.”
And with that he stalks off in giant strides, which has me running to keep up.
We don’t speak further as we ascend the million stairs to the surface. Probably an exaggeration, but bloody hell if it didn’t feel like it. Who knew you could be so far underground and not have your arse burning off with the flames of Hellfire?
“I will show you to your room,” he says. “Please stay there. I don’t want you wandering around causing trouble and getting everyone’s skirts in a bunch. We will have a proper naming ceremony for you tomorrow where I will introduce you as my daughter and I will arrange for the Coronation the day after.”
“Naming ceremony?” I ask as he pushes the door to the dungeons open and leads me through the extensive kitchens. Why are dungeons always off kitchens no matter which dimension you go to?
“Yes. You are a Fae Princess and you will have a Fae name,” he says haughtily.
Oh, for fuck's sake, I groan. Another name. Like I don’t have a gazillion as it is. “Can’t you just pick one from the numerous I already have?” I ask hopefully.
“Are any of them Fae?” he snaps.
I shrug. “I don’t know, do I?” I snap back.
“Doubtful. Besides, I already have the name you will be called and there will be no arguments.” He holds his hand up as I open my mouth to argue. “None, young lady. You will learn respect while you are here.”
“Fine, as long as you respect me, I will respect you,” I retort.
He glares down at me from his six feet seven inches. I was right in my assumption that he is the same height as Fraser was. I can see that he isn’t used to be spoken to in such a manner, but just this side of fleeting, I see a glimmer of amusement. Good, I can work with that.
“Look, Drake,” I say, pulling myself up to my full five feet three inches. No way am I calling him “Dad.” “I am the Queen of the Underworld,” I start, knowing I don’t act much like it most of the time but, “I hold the same station as you do, and I will be treated accordingly.”
He glowers at me. “You are Princess of this Court and I will treat you accordingly to that post.”
“Are you this much of a pain in the arse with your sons?” I ask him, suddenly getting fed up with his superior attitude.
He lets out a loud guffaw, to his own, never mind my, astonishment. “If I asked them, they wouldn’t tell me…because they have respect,” he says.
“No balls more like,” I grumble. “You say jump and they scramble to be the first to say how high. You need me here to give you a challenge. I stay now because I want to, not because you threaten me. How many do you have anyway?”
“As delighted as I am that you are taking your duty seriously now, you will tone down the vulgar language. It isn’t fitting for a lady of the Court,” he says sternly.
“Whatever,” I say and shrug. “How many?”
“If you are asking how many sons do I have, I have twenty-seven.”
“Wow, that’s…a lot.” I swallow loudly.
“Indeed. More than we wanted, but when each one came out a boy, we had to keep trying. We sadly gave up eighteen years ago,” he says with sorrow.
“Oh,” I say, feeling a bit bad for him and his poor, unwanted sons.
“But here you are,” he says brightly. “Living proof that I didn’t fail my people. Only my wife,” he adds quietly.
“You didn’t fail your wife. She failed you,” I say and then bite my lip as his face goes fierce and he stops walking and steps closer to me.
“If I ever hear you talk about Maurelle that way again, I will make the beating your sire gave you look like a cut lip,” he threatens.
“All right, keep your pants on. I was trying to make you feel better. To let you know you didn’t fail. You have a daughter and I will do my duty by you.” I am shocked to realize that I mean every word. Who knew this mean, somewhat cruel stranger could invoke a feeling of loyalty in me?
“Yes, well, don’t expect any thanks from me. This is far from an ideal situation.” He all but punches the poor bedroom door off its hinges before he shoves me roughly inside. He also steps in and closes the door. “You are here to wed and bear a child and then you are free to leave, never to return.”