Caledonia Fae 03 - Enemy of the Fae by India Drummond

Eilidh. One was anxiety and distrust, but sadly, she’d experienced varying levels of that from the moment of her coronation. She’d never been under the illusion that taking on the duties of a royal would be easy, but neither of them had anticipated how difficult and fraught it would be.
    The other sensation he perceived troubled him more. A shadow wrapped around the place she normally carried her love for him. He hadn’t grasped the mood until he saw her face-to-face. Once he stood in her presence, he couldn’t deny the subtle change. Her love wasn’t diminished, but doubt had crept in. What he didn’t understand was the source or character of the feeling.
    He and Griogair left the audience chamber last. “I can eat later,” Munro said. “Let’s talk to Eilidh. I need to find out what’s been happening. Was that really Flùranach?”
    Griogair tilted his head, a subtle gesture of disagreement. “You should eat first. We’ll talk.”
    Munro wanted to argue, but he knew Griogair well enough to realise the prince-consort had made up his mind and wouldn’t be swayed. Relenting would prove the easiest choice.
    “Why did you return?” Griogair asked quietly as they walked down the corridor. “My mate didn’t bid you to return.”
    My mate. It grated on Munro whenever Griogair made a pointed remark indicating he was Eilidh’s husband. “I thought I had free passage in Caledonia. If Eilidh didn’t want me here, she would have turned me back the second she sensed me stepping through the portal.”
    “Perhaps,” Griogair said, but again signalled his disagreement with a subtle frown.
    “Was it you who suggested keeping me in the Halls of Mist indefinitely?” Munro felt torn between his friendship with Griogair and the jealous pangs taunting him every time the prince took his rightful place beside Eilidh. The feelings surprised Munro. He thought he’d come to terms with their arrangement, yet he found it harder than expected to let go of everything his human upbringing taught him.
    “Yes,” the prince replied. He gestured for Munro to precede him to the terrace where they often ate together. Within moments, servants appeared, bringing honeyed froth and a platter of fresh fruit.
    “And did you also plant the doubt tangling her mind?”
    A flash of pity played across Griogair’s features. “I find it difficult not to like you,” he said unexpectedly and picked a piece of fruit from the plate. “Try the figs. They’re just coming into perfect season.”
    The tension fizzled, and Munro relaxed. Why had he become so suspicious? “Something is troubling Eilidh. Something to do with me. What’s happened?”
    “The queen demanded my silence on the subject,” Griogair said. “I argued the point. I reminded her that your suspicious nature would lead you to question me,” he added with a smirk.
    Munro took the remark good-naturedly. He’d been a cop too long not to be suspicious of nearly everything people told him. He wondered sometimes if he’d ever get over that tendency. He also noticed Griogair referred to her as “the queen,” which told Munro the prince would have defied anyone else.
    “On this, she wouldn’t listen,” Griogair said. Before Munro could respond, the prince shifted the subject. “How is Ríona? Does she serve you well?”
    “Yes,” Munro said but couldn’t disguise his unease at how he and the scholar had left things. “We’ve had a few breakthroughs. I’m eager to tell you and Eilidh about them.”
    “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Griogair said distantly.
    “Ríona?” Munro asked. “She’s a good translator,” he replied cautiously. “A hard worker. Passionate about rune study.”
    Griogair chuckled. “I thought you would find her attractive. She seemed most curious about you when I described the help you require.”
    “And you also told her of the rumours about me?”
    “Are there rumours?” Griogair asked with mock surprise.
    “I suppose it would kill