The Ice Diamond Cuff (Custodian Novel #4) (3 page)

"What sport could Henry possibly enter
against all the champions of the other six realms?" the king asked,
as he stopped in front of his desk.

"Darts."

"Darts?" The king's eyebrows nearly
disappeared under his crown.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Faen interjected. "It's
where you throw three small arrows at a target a certain distance
away. The first person to score down from 501 and ends with a
double, wins.

"Thank you, Faen. I am well aware of what
darts is," the king retorted.

"Yes, sire."

"My dad was pub champion three years in a
row," Faedra continued, volunteering her unsuspecting 'other dad'
for something he was blissfully unaware of.

The king rested his chin on his fist and gave
his daughter a considering look. "Hmm."

"Hmm, yes, I'll consider it? Or hmm, you're
just crazy, now get out of my office," Faedra quipped.

Faedra saw her father press his lips together
in a tight line. An attempt to stop the smile that was threatening
to break free. She had him, she just knew it.

"Maybe it is about time we had a fresh event
in the tournament."

Faedra did a little skip on the spot and
threw her arms around the king. He hesitated for a second before
reciprocating. Faedra felt his hesitation but could also feel his
emotion. He still wasn't quite used to showing affection and was
torn between looking like a king and acting like a father. Faedra
also sensed that each time she gave him a hug, he felt more and
more at ease with giving one back. Give her a little more time and
he would be the one asking for a hug.

The king pulled back and looked down into his
daughter's eyes. "Now, young lady. I believe you are late for your
lesson. Saxen will not let me hear the end of it."

Faedra's expression fell. "Do I have to?"

"I need not answer that question," the king
said with a reprimanding tone.

"Wait. Before I go, what did Zaven mean by a
ticking time bomb?"

The king's brow rose again. "Just how long
were you standing outside my door, madam?"

"Long enough. I heard him threaten my world,
too."

The king puffed out a sigh and rested his
hands on Faedra's shoulders. "You leave Zaven to me. He is full of
cold words and not much else."

"He sounded pretty serious to me. Why does he
hate me so much?"

"He doesn't hate you."

"Father, I could feel hatred coming off him
in waves and it was aimed at me. I've had enough practice with
Vivianna to know what that feels like."

The king closed his eyes at the mention of
his eldest daughter. The one he was keeping locked up in the
dungeons below their very feet. Faedra felt bad as soon as she'd
mentioned it. She could feel her father's remorse and cursed
herself for the slip up.

"You have nothing to worry about, Faedra. I
promise," the king said, turning his daughter around by her
shoulders and pointing her towards the door. "Now, go to your
lesson before Saxen has my head."

As Faedra turned towards the door, a wry
smile curved her lips. For the first time since she was forced to
take the lessons, she realized she could put them to good use. Yes,
Faedra was going to be a very attentive student this afternoon.

CHAPTER THREE

"Hi, Dad," Faedra said, as she and Faen
materialized in the kitchen at the Bennett cottage, compliments of
the ruby staff. She wandered over to where her dad stood at the
counter.

Henry stopped what he was doing and turned
from where he was preparing dinner. His face lit up with a smile
upon seeing his daughter. He put down his knife and wrapped his
arms around Faedra.

"Hello, darling," he said, pulling away to
hold her at arm’s length. He gave her a quick look over from head
to toe. "How are you?"

Faedra smiled at her dad's gesture. He was
acting as if he hadn't seen her for weeks, when in fact, she and
Faen had stayed for dinner the evening before last.

"Good, thanks," Faedra replied as she plunked
herself down on one of the dining chairs and rested her arms on the
table.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Bennett," Faen greeted,
seating himself beside his fiancée.

"Afternoon, Faen. And it's Henry. How many
times do I have to tell you...?” Henry shook his head and shot Faen
a warm, knowing smile. "...never mind."

Faedra raised her eyes heavenward. She
doubted that Faen would ever call her dad by his first name. He was
just too proper. Maybe when they were married he would relax his
manners just a tad. But, then again, maybe not.

"How's 'princess school' going?" Henry
asked.

"Urgh, don't," Faedra said, dropping her
forehead onto her arms. She looked up again, a martyred expression
in her eyes. "Today I learned that prince so-and-so from
somewhere-or-another doesn't like apples, and if I am ever to
invite him to a banquet, I must be certain not to serve anything
containing apples for it would be..." she air-signed quotation
marks with her fingers, "...tantamount to a declaration of
war."

"That bad, hey?"

"Worse."

"I'll put the kettle on then, shall I?" Henry
said.

That put a smile on Faedra's face. She gave
her hands an odd look before sending some energy there to warm
them. She rubbed them together, a human gesture that stuck with her
even though she never needed to rub them together again to get them
warm. She had a raging furnace locked inside her; all she needed to
do was open the 'door' and direct the heat where she wanted it.
"It's a bit chilly for this time of year, isn't it?"

"Now that you come to mention it, the weather
has been a bit odd the past few days," Henry shot over his shoulder
as he busied himself with the tea kettle. He opened a cupboard
above his head and reached up to grab three mugs. "But this is
England, so anything goes. It'll probably be sun-bathing weather
tomorrow."

Faedra instinctively touched the amulet that
hung from her neck. It was still there, safe and sound. She relaxed
a little and gave her paranoid self a quick inward pep-talk. No one
was controlling the weather. The amulet and the book were safe,
and, without the amulet, no one else, to her knowledge, had the
power to control the weather. But after hearing Zaven's comment
earlier that day, it had put her senses on alert. Her dad had a
good point, though. England was hardly the most predictable place
on the planet when it came to atmospheric conditions.

"Anything wrong?" Faen asked after noticing
his charge rubbing her thumb over the surface of the amulet. A
gesture he had become aware of her doing when she was worried about
something. To add to that, her face was stoic, contemplating.

Faedra broke from her thoughts and turned to
her Guardian. She held his concerned gaze for a moment, taking
solace in the calming serenity of his energy. "I hope not," she
whispered.

Their connection was broken by her dad. "Here
you go, darling," he said, handing her a steaming mug of tea from
across the table. She smiled back at him as she took it.

"Biscuit?" Henry asked after handing Faen his
cup.

"Yes, please," Faen said.

"Oh, go on then," Faedra responded. "I doubt
if a couple of biscuits will make a difference to me fitting into
my wedding dress."

Her dad reached into another cupboard and
pulled out a round tin. He took the lid off and placed it in the
middle of the table before retrieving his own cup of tea from the
counter and joining his daughter and future son-in-law.

"Dad," Faedra said cupping her hands around
her steaming mug. "I hope you don't mind but I've volunteered you
for something."

Henry's expression became guarded. "What did
you do?"

Faedra gnawed on her lip for a second before
answering. "You're going to be the only delegate to represent the
World of Men in the upcoming Seven Realms Tournament," she blurted,
as fast as the words would come out.

Henry nearly spat his mouthful of tea across
the table. "What?!" he exclaimed after a hefty swallow to force the
liquid down.

Faen's hand crept across the table to cover
Faedra's again. "I think it may have been wiser to ask your father
if he would like to compete before you volunteered him," he
said.

Faedra looked at her dad who was doing a good
impression of a deer caught in the headlights and turned back to
her Guardian. "Yeah, I guess. But you know what I'm like when I get
a bee in my bonnet, and it just bugged me that the World of Men
wasn't represented. Well, now it is." She gestured with open palms
towards her dad who was still looking a bit dumbstruck.

Henry did a subtle shake of his head to bring
himself back to his senses.

"And which event, dare I ask, did you
volunteer me for?"

"Darts," Faedra and Faen announced
together.

"Darts?" Henry cast an incredulous look
towards his daughter. "They play darts in the other realms?"

"They do now," Faedra said, a wry smile
curving her lips. "Father decided they could do with a fresh event
in the tournament."

"No doubt with a little persuasion from a
certain young lady."

Faedra's smile grew into an all-out grin.

"Oh, go on, Dad. You were pub champion three
years in a row. And, besides, you’re the only human my other dad
will allow into Azran. You have to represent the World of Men."

"But, darling. I haven't played darts for a
while," Henry said, his eyes pleading with her to see what a stupid
idea this was.

"Well, you better start practicing then,"
Faedra said undeterred. "The tournament's in a month."

It was Henry's turn to sport the martyred
look, which he turned on Faen. "It's not too late to back out, you
know," Henry said with a wink, which earned him a doff on the arm
from his daughter.

"It is your daughter's passion for doing what
she thinks is right that makes me love her so much," Faen
responded.

Faedra leaned over and rested her head on
Faen's shoulder. "Aw, you know just the right thing to say at just
the right time."

Faen inclined his head.

"So, how are the wedding plans going?" Henry
asked. "I expect the king is tearing his hair out trying to
organize a wedding and a tournament."

"Actually, he seems pretty calm about the
whole thing," Faedra replied. "Most of the tournament preparations
are being done by a separate group from each realm. They all get
together and make the arrangements. It's just that Azran is hosting
it this time. So apart from making an appearance at the opening
ceremony and competing in a couple of events, he's not getting too
involved. As for the wedding, it's getting there. We have our last
fitting for myself and the bridesmaids next week. I don't have to
worry too much about the wedding here until after the tournament. I
thought it would be too much to try and fit it in before, so I'll
go with Amy and Zoe for a fitting in a month or so. I'm glad we are
just having a small wedding here. I have a feeling the one is Azran
is going to be a little... overwhelming."

Faen gave Faedra's shoulders a squeeze. "And
you will get through it just fine."

She gave him a warm smile. Truth was, she was
getting very excited. Not just for her marrying the most incredible
man she'd ever met, but it also meant she would get to see her
friends again. They would all be in attendance. She couldn't wait
to hear all about Jocelyn's exploits in Guardian training and what
kind of covert mission Etyran and Alyssa were currently executing.
They were away somewhere by order of the king but it was all very
hush, hush and no one would tell her anything. She was eager to see
if she could wheedle it out of them somehow.

"Oh, that reminds me," Henry said, pushing
himself back from the table. "I had a delivery this morning. Want
to see it?"

Faedra and Faen nodded in the
affirmative.

Henry left the room for a moment. Faedra
could hear his footsteps as he climbed the wooden staircase and
walked along the upstairs hallway above them and into his bedroom.
She could feel his energy shift to excitement as he made his way
down the stairs again. When he walked back into the kitchen, he was
holding up a brown suit-carrier by the hanger.

"We were going to surprise you," Henry said,
hardly able to stand still he was so excited. "But I didn't think
it was fair to keep you waiting til your wedding day to see what
the father of the bride, well, one of them anyway, was going to be
wearing. The king sent some of his seamstresses around to measure
me and this is what they came up with."

Henry pulled down the zipper of the
suit-carrier and pulled the garment from its protective
covering.

Faedra sucked in a breath and brought her
hand to her mouth. Her wide eyes glistened as she blinked a couple
of times to push back a tear.

"Oh, Dad," she breathed, almost
speechless.

She sniffed, an involuntary response, as she
got up from the table and wandered over to where her dad was
holding his wedding outfit.

"Do you like it?" he asked. "I think it makes
me look rather dapper."

Faedra ran her fingers over the luxurious
forest green brocade, the same color as the king's velvet robes.
The rich material was accented by gold Celtic knot-work embroidery
around the cuffs and collar, which continued down the front of the
garment. The doublet was belted at the waist, the gold buckle of
which was ornately detailed with more Celtic knot-work.

Faedra let her fingers trail over the belt
buckle. Tears continued to prick behind her eyes. Her father, the
king, had done this for her dad. No, for her. The garment her dad
held up on display was fit for a king; in fact, it was an exact
replica of the suit her real father would be wearing to her
wedding, also. She only knew that because he had invited her to his
fitting a few weeks ago to ask for her opinion. The king had then
sent fae seamstresses to her dad to recreate the same outfit. It
was a gesture of pure selflessness, a statement for her wedding day
that both of her dads were just as important as one another in her
eyes.