A thrill ran through me at his words. Only Lily had ever called me that before; there was something gratifying about hearing someone else repeat the title, especially with Aifric Moncrieffe’s son and heir standing beside me.

‘Call me Integrity,’ I told Angus.

He bowed and I watched him go, enjoying the warmth I felt at knowing that not every Sidhe was against me. I was sure that there had been no guile in Angus’s words or expression.

Byron, apparently, had a different opinion. ‘You should be careful who you make friends with.’

‘Why’s that?’ I inquired, turning my attention back to him.

‘You know most nobles here would be happy to see you gone.’

‘Really? Even after I saved all your sorry arses by helping you with the Foinse?’

‘Don’t be so naïve, Integrity,’ he snapped.

‘Well, don’t you be so antagonistic,’ I bit back.

He came closer. ‘Me antagonistic? You should take a look in the mirror.’ His voice was low. He reached out and took a strand of my hair in his fingers. ‘How can you show up, looking like that with your Adair hair, and expect me to believe that you’re not deliberately trying to annoy every damn person here? We know what you are, Integrity. There’s no need to flaunt it.’

I was taken aback. Someone had clearly got out of the wrong side of bed this morning. It was only hair. Considering the dramatic clothes that everyone else was wearing, I could hardly be accused of being showy.

‘My appearance is annoying you? Really? Maybe if I wore a nun’s habit, you’d think it was more appropriate.’ I pointed at his muscular legs, visible beneath his kilt. ‘Although you’re displaying a lot more skin than I am. Are your balls as blue as you thought they’d be?’

‘Would you like to check and see?’

I felt Bob stir from the folds of my Adair tartan scarf. He was virtually quivering with excitement. Bugger it. Worry surged through me at the prospect of the genie doing something stupid and it was like a bucket of ice water. It didn’t just dampen my irritation; it also provided sudden brisk clarity.

‘You’re jealous,’ I breathed. ‘That’s why you’re so annoyed. You don’t want me making ‘friends ‘ with anyone apart from you.’ I glanced at Tipsania’s retreating back. ‘What would your fiancée make of that?’

Turmoil flickered across his face. ‘It doesn’t sound like I’m the only jealous one around here,’ he pointed out. ‘And she’s not my fiancée.’

‘Not yet. The only way you’ll escape that particular noose is if you win these Games.’ The corner of my mouth tugged up in a smile. ‘Right?’