The Wicked King (The Folk of the Air Book 2)

He grins up at Cardan, looking delighted with himself and the world. “Better to take consorts,” Locke says. “Lots and lots of consorts.” “Spoken like a man about to enter wedlock,” Cardan reminds him. “Oh, leave off. That was the first lesson he’d taught her after he’d cut down her parents with a sword not unlike the one she held now. Maybe he can channel his ambition into beating the Undersea and forget about the throne, at least until Oak comes of age. She bares her teeth. “Lord Roiben’s consort was hurt,” she says. “Badly.” The green-skinned, black-eyed pixie who spoke as though she were mortal.