Damn it, that’s what I’d been worried about. Aifric was happy to lend me his support because he wanted me to think he was on my side – and right now he didn’t see me as a threat. Getting two other Clans to throw their hats in the ring for me would be tough.

‘Also,’ he continued, ‘we didn’t expect you, so we’ve not prepared any quarters. The competitors stay in a specially converted village. We find things work better that way. I’m sure we can find you some space though.’

‘You’re very kind, my liege,’ I murmured.

Aifric laughed heartily. ‘Oh, I’m only the Steward. It’s nothing like a liege lord, I assure you.’ Yeah, yeah. I laughed back; Aifric didn’t seem to notice how false it sounded. ‘You must be tired after your journey,’ he continued. ‘Let me arrange for some refreshments while someone sorts out your accommodation.’

I dipped a curtsey. The light in his eyes still glimmered. Good; Aifric Moncrieffe thought I’d fallen hook, line and sinker for his lies. All I had to do to succeed was keep it that way.

*

Six hours later, we still hadn’t been shown to our rooms. The plates of food and goblets of wine, water and some indefinable liquid lay untouched in front of us. Even Brochan’s patience was being tested. For the last hour he’d been pacing up and down the flagstones, his arms crossed and his glower dangerous. Speck was glued to his phone. Lexie, Taylor and I were taking a different approach: every time someone passed by, no matter who they we were, we did our best to charm them into conversation. Operation Smarm was well under way.

Despite not having an ounce of Sidhe blood, Lexie did a sterling job of flirting with the older nobles. It was difficult for anyone to resist her impish smile and I saw more than one flushed cheek when she inadvertently brushed her body against her targets. Taylor was almost her equal; he oozed charm, gently complimenting the ladies without appearing overly familiar and using his down-to-earth attitude to remain unthreatening to the men.

It was markedly different for me. Every time I tried to engage someone in conversation, they shied away. More than one of them clutched their jewels, their bags or their pockets, as if I were going to spirit away their wealth from beneath their noses. It didn’t matter how I approached each Clanling, nothing worked. I’d never been as skilled at verbal dexterity as Taylor but I’d been pulling street cons before I hit puberty. I knew how to talk to people – and these people were having none of it.

The various non-Sidhe flitting around would probably have been friendlier ‒ I spotted a few warm glances from the servants and errand boys ‒ but they were in a rush and it wasn’t their approval I needed. Winning the Games would be one thing; I’d still need some Sidhe on my side to have any real measure of success afterwards –and I still needed to secure two votes to let me participate.