The Queen glanced at her guard and laughed. “He’s too pretty to be mad at, Penelope.”
So the woman knew my name. Of course, she knew my name. Duh. She wouldn’t have kidnapped me if she didn’t know who I was. At least, I supposed that was so.
“Why have you brought me here? What have I done to you?” I asked.
Again, she laughed, obviously enjoying my confusion and the anger my face probably showed as I glared at the man who was apparently her favorite guard . . . or lover?
“Penelope, Penelope. What a gracious name. It sings, doesn’t it? I have a tuner who could fetch a song from it. Although, it sadly doesn’t rhyme with anything. Still, it has such a charming beat. I must see what he can do with it.”
I waited, sighing. I wanted to tap my toe on the floor, demonstrating my impatience, but I’d learned enough to know from my wedding and from what happened on the plane that Fae Queens were volatile. Whatever I said or did, it must be done gently and with great humility.
“Yes, I understand why the Pooka loves you so. You are enchanting. And I see why Moragana has claimed you as hers. It is not just because her Pooka has chosen you.”
All three of the golden haired Viking warriors who seized me from our friendly card game had now showed up in the large room. Steffen, the one she said was pretty, had been joined by his fellow brigands. One of the men walked over to the long wooden table and picked up a pink and purple carrot. His teeth flashed as he bit down.
“Yes, enticing, aren’t they? You may choose one of them to entertain you while you are here.”
I gasped. “I’m married! I love my husband. I would never . . .”
The queen collapsed into the largest of the red velvet chairs. She was laughing with full gusto. What should have turned her ugly, only brought out the twinkle in her eyes and gave her pale face a bloom of color.
A moment later the queen motioned for me to sit down. I didn’t want to. I wanted to run, but where would I flee in a land so far from where I wanted to be?
For some reason, that brought on the worries. What had happened to Timothy and the guys? Were they okay? The Viking lookalikes hadn’t hurt them, had they?
I slipped into the nearest chair, not because I wanted to, but because I deemed it wise to obey the queen, and then I opened my mouth to shoot out my questions. What do they say in the movies when talking with a member of the mafia? Oh, yes. I will bombard the queen with questions . . . RESPECTFULLY