Free Prince by Blood and Bone: A Fantasy Romance of the Black Court (Tales of the Black Court) by Jessica Aspen Page A

She’d woken this morning in a rage, the Morrigan had been present all day, and even Haddon would have liked to see her change into her lovely, sweet, but still dangerous, Aeval aspect.
    Her rare Gift of true-shifting her appearance with her mood kept her secure in her power. Not many had the power or the sheer balls to rule an Underhill Court. It took wit, and politics, and a quality of magic that only a select few were ever born with. Her majesty, Queen Aeval Morrigan de Dannan, had been born Gifted, born royal, and born beautiful. She’d been tested by time and magics and her family and she should have ruled for thousands of years more. But not now. Now, because of Haddon’s finely hidden manipulations, and meticulously administered drugs, she leaked power wherever she went, at the mercy of her emotions and out of control of her shifting.
    But none of that mattered today.
    The gnome lifted his groveling face off of the grass and spoke, “I have given my word, Your Majesty, no word may pass my lips.”
    The queen’s death-white skin mottled, the stark blue veins thick and throbbing, and her violet eyes whirled. Her large black wings unfolded, the sharp-edged, iridescent black feathers gleaming in the afternoon sun. The wings began a slow broad motion, stirring up the breeze. The ancient trees’ leaves shivered, and a small fairy caught napping in the branches batted its wings as it attempted to flee.
    Haddon surreptitiously stroked the polished wood of the throne, admiring how the deep almost-black of the ancient wood brought out the green of his skin. He hid a small smile as the queen’s snaky black ringlets, dark with blood-red lowlights, twisted and turned and lashed out, the hair hooking the tiny fairy and tangling it in its coils. It hung, screaming, until the queen plucked it from her hair’s grip and popped it into her mouth, crunching down and chewing, all the while staring at the gnome.
    Damp patches appeared under the creature’s arms, and the murky odor of gnome sweat rose. Haddon pulled out a scented handkerchief and held it to his nose.
    “My queen, perhaps we can find a way around this issue.” The gnome dared to look at Haddon, but he raised his eyebrows and stared back until the little beast shrank down, nearly forming a ball on the grass. “Gnome!” Haddon snapped. “When you made this particularly bad bargain, did you say you would not write of it?”
    “No, My Lord,” he whispered.
    “Excellent. Bring pen and paper for the gnome, and be quick about it!” Haddon clapped his hands. A pageboy flew into action, his slender legs moving fast. Haddon stared at the boy’s soft, touchable skin, and licked his lips. He was new here. Fresh.
    The trembling page boy handed over the writing supplies, and the shaking gnome dipped the quill into the ink. Drips of black spattered as he scrawled his answer on the paper. He finished and threw himself flat on the ground, the quill stabbing deep into the grass beside him. The page boy handed Haddon the paper. He grew light-headed as he read it and knew his skin must be as pale as washed-out lettuce.
    “What is it? What has my wretch of a son done now?”
    “The gnome writes that he’s close to undoing the curse.”
    “He’s what?” The queen’s massive wings lifted and stroked the air. Haddon hung onto the paper and dared to lay a restraining hand on the queen’s arm.
    She glanced at him and eased her wings to a stop. He hid his pleasure. She was under his control. He’d waited years for this. Once he’d been her whipping boy, but soon, very soon, he’d have it all. Her under his thumb, the Tuathan’s respect, and all the power of the Black Court.
    “Write carefully, gnome,” he said. “That is, if you want your sniveling children and wife to continue living in our guest quarters down below.” Under his light touch the queen’s hand clenched tight around the arm of the throne, and he thrilled at her anger. “Is the prince in his regular