The dark eyes of the incensed Fae watched the windswept hill. He paced, with anger toward not only his cousin but also toward the mortal bitch who'd dared lay a hand on one who was her better. Grizbine had never been struck by a mortal before, and he didn't like it one bit. He was disappointed that his Godmother had not been able to bring the High King's whelp to heel. He thought she had more power than she had used. Still she had said she would still support his claim. That at least was better than nothing.
He felt the anger build once more. He had felt it years before, when Oberon had given the kingdom to his blasted cub. Grizbine could see no good in that at all. He'd always felt his was the stronger right to the kingdom; after all, there was no question of his parents being in an accepted union. He had waited, watched, and waited some more. Now that it was within his grasp, to have it yanked back because the Goblin Brat King had gotten some mortal with child was insult to injury.
Grizbine had never like Jareth; he barely tolerated the other's presence at court while they both were there. To have to acknowledge that they were related peeved Grizbine. He had nearly choked on his own tongue when it was announced that Jareth was being given the Goblin Kingship. He had plans for the kingdom and the goblins. All that had been put on hold. Jareth, fool in Grizbine's eyes, had seemed to only be interested in playing silly games with his groveling followers. Grizbine had never once suspected that the High Kings fop actually cared for female company. In fact, Jareth had been the brunt of many a joke in the high court.
Grizbine felt his jaw again. How dare the mortal bitch touch a Fae? He would teach her a lesson. He would force her to watch as he dismembered her offspring. Grizbine smiled; that thought pleased him.