Darrius
I wanted to slam my fist on the table and shout at Malcolm for being a chump to believe this woman was our queen. After doubting myself about the lass, validation was better than a free mug of ale. Which tasted a whole lot better than this watered-down crap.
"Laddie," I called. "Bring us some ale an' check on our food. I'm famished."
When the boy brought a pitcher with him, I took the whole thing.
"None for me." Malcolm held up a hand. His face pale.
Part of me was a bit sorry for him. Not like he'd had many times that he'd been dead wrong. But hell. Our queen wouldn't hate Fae so much as Avery seemed to and she certainly wouldn't be trying to kill the lot of us.
After Malcolm's scolding with the bread earlier, I grunted at Avery. "Ale?"
She shook her head. "I'd like my kniv
