Free Bride of Fae (Tethers) by LK Rigel

wasn’t your fault.” Cissa’s eyes flashed in anger. “I’m sure Idris drugged the dandelion wine. I should have suspected he was up to something when he acted so pleased I found the cup.”
    “There’s no proof Idris had anything to do with it,” Dandelion said. Idris had everything to do with it, but Cissa was wearing her tether and this needed to be a safe conversation. “Besides, I welcome banishment. I heard them jeer. The fae think I’m a daft failure they’re well rid of. Well, ta! I feel the same about my fair-weather people.”
    “Not fair for long. Idris is taking the Dumnos fae dark.”
    “Let them go. They’re already dark as far as I can tell . Sod it. Forget the tea.” Dandelion took the kettle off the chimney crane. There was a winesack with a bit left in it and goblets in the hutch.
    “Not all welcomed the banishment decree, Dandelion. Those who think for themselves know it wasn’t your fault the cup was lost.”
    “And how many still think for themselves?” He handed her a goblet of wine. “I was already going solitary, Cissa. Idris just made it easier, that’s all.”
    If she’d ever visit without that damn tether at her throat, Dandelion would say more. He knew about Idris’s glimmer glass. Max told him about it on his last visit and explained its ability to monitor anyone wearing the jeweled chokers.
    “He mocks you.” Cissa sipped the wine, a mischievous glint in her eye. “He calls this place Mudcastle.”
    “So it is.” Dandelion laughed bitterly. She’d hit a sore spot, the thing he couldn’t stand about this whole fiasco: Idris triumphant.
    Mudcastle. The abandoned earthen mound lay at the far edge of Faeview land. Judging by the cobbler’s tools strewn about when he arrived, the place was once occupied by a solitary leprechaun. It had been sadly neglected.
    “Never mind,” Cissa said. “You’ll be living like a prince in no time. And we’ll think of a way to bring you back—oh. I almost forgot.” She put her goblet down next to his tether box on a side table and pulled a Turkey carpet out of her hidey pouch. “Voilà!”
    "How much more do you have in that thing?” He laughed and helped her spread the rug over the dirt floor in front of the fireplace.
    “Mudcastle could be nice,” she said. “The windows are round. The door is round. No sharp angles. There’s a big stand of lilac not far from your door, did you see? It will smell heavenly this spring.”
    “If you enjoy that sort of thing.”
    “Which you do,” Cissa said. “If you're going solitary, you’re going to be a comfortable solitary.” As she smoothed the rug, her attention fixed on the fire grate, polished Dumnos steel with a bright-cut design of crickets and fireflies. “That’s lovely. Did Max make it?”
    Dandelion nodded. “He brought it through the tunnel. The chair too.”
    “Poor Max.” Cissa’s hand went to her red choker. “I wish he could use a tether. I’ve heard the goblin tunnels are cold and dark and creepy.”
    “Max can handle himself,” Dandelion said.
    Cissa glanced from Dandelion’s bare throat to the blackthorn box beside her wine goblet. “Don’t you wear yours anymore?”
    “What would be the point?” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
    “I’d feel naked without mine now.” Cissa picked up the box and absently ran her fingers over its carved dandelions. Her voice grew soft, serious. “Idris said something yesterday.” She put the box down. “He said he should marry me to Max.”
    “An alliance,” Dandelion said. “So many goblins have left the faewood, have you noticed? He’s always thinking.”
    “He was joking, I think.”
    “Idris can joke all he likes,” Dandelion said. “He can’t force you.” Let Idris eavesdrop on that.
    “Max is a good friend,” Cissa said. “I wish he wasn’t…”
    “So ugly?”
    “It’s not that,” Cissa said. “I guess I’ve gotten used to him. He doesn’t look horrible to me now,