‘Look a little closer. They’re all lower-level Sidhe. You won’t find many amongst the highborn bowing to you.’ His tone was more sympathetic than taunting.

I looked back at the Sidhe who were still watching me and shrugged. ‘Curiosity never killed anything except a couple of hours. They can rubberneck what they want.’ Hell, despite the weird bowing thing, they were probably hoping I had horns sprouting from my head and a forked tongue. I was almost sorry to disappoint them.

Byron seemed to decide that engaging me in discussion about my name was pointless. He turned round and strode ahead. I gazed after him for a second then followed. Whatever was about to unfold within the depths of the Cruaich castle, it certainly wouldn’t be dull.

Once inside, I was surprised at the interior. It wasn’t as flash as I expected. It was grand, certainly, but more from a sense of ancient tradition than ostentatious wealth. Byron was moving well ahead of me but rather than quicken my step to keep up, I deliberately slowed my pace and drank in my surroundings.

A red carpet ran the length of the stone-flagged floor and the walls were draped with the different Clan tartans, most of which I was surprised to recognise. The Adair Clan colours, a clash of orange, blue and green as I recalled, were conspicuously absent. So much for making a big deal out of the Adair name, I thought sardonically.

There was a set of grand doors at the end of the carpet. Byron stopped at them and turned, impatiently tapping his foot as I ambled towards him. He didn’t seem happy at my slow progress.

I was overtaken by a sense of mischief that I rarely indulged. I stopped and took out my phone. Byron’s expression grew even more thunderous, especially when I took several selfies, flicking my hair and pouting at myself. I was taking inspiration from Lexie; she was very skilled at this sort of thing.

‘Get a move on.’

‘But, Your Highness, I want to record myself for posterity. There has to be some sort of record that I was here. Otherwise when you try to get rid of me once I’ve helped you reach the Foinse, I won’t be able to prove that I was here.’

Byron blinked in astonishment. Interesting. Perhaps that wasn’t the endgame after all – but I wasn’t going to take any chances.

‘I’m going to send this to a few friends,’ I chirped. ‘So they know where I am.’ I pressed the necessary buttons. My hairdresser would be very surprised when she checked her messages.

‘Whatever you might think,’ Byron said, his voice softening a touch, ‘we are not going to hurt you.’

I met his eyes. ‘I’ll believe it when I see it.’ I jerked my head at the doors. ‘Aren’t we going in?’