The brief discussion with King Reginald passed by in a blur. After the announcement that the triplets were missing, my mind became a riot of anguish, and a roaring filled my ears. Somehow, I made it through, mumbling responses without truly thinking about what I was saying. Thankfully, Fenn took control of the conversation, his voice steady and sure always.
But my gaze never strayed from Adira's. While she remained dutifully by her father’s side, her eyes fixed on him, her gaze occasionally slid to mine. Despair filled her expression, breaking through her calm demeanor for the briefest of seconds.
Urgency flooded me. I had to talk with her. I had to comfort her, to speak with her privately, to…
To what? What the hell could I do? I couldn’t magically bring her sisters back.
I thought of those bright-eyed triplets, whom I had known since birth. They were ten years old now but so small and petite that they seemed much younger. I couldn’t imagine how frightened they must be.
“Perhaps your eldest daughter could be of assistance,” Fenn was saying, gesturing to Adira. His words snapped me from my muddled thoughts, and I straightened.
Adira’s eyes brightened, but before she spoke, Reginald raised his hand.
“No. I refuse to bring my daughters further into this mess. I will not risk their safety. This matter will stay between us.”
Adira’s shoulders slumped with disappointment, but she quickly composed herself. I found myself bristling at Reginald’s clear dismissal. Without realizing what I was doing, I stepped forward, my weight resting on my uninjured leg.
“With all due respect, sire,” I said, “Adira knows her sisters best. It was she who first suspected something was wrong, and she has been most attentive of her sister’s habits and patterns up to this point. Her information could be quite useful.”
Fenn made an imperceptible noise in his throat but disguised it as a cough. Silence fell in the throne room. Adira’s eyes flared wide as she glanced from her father to me and back again.
King Reginald inhaled deeply, then said slowly, “I suppose you’re right, Sir Marek. But Adira will only be a consultant in these matters. I do not want her venturing into dangerous situations.”
I nodded tersely. “Of course, sire.”
* * *
After our discussion, Reginald dismissed his daughters, and several servants showed us to our guest quarters. I craned my neck, trying to catch Adira’s eye, but she exited the throne room before I could.
My heart sank to my stomach as I followed the procession toward our rooms. I’d come all this way for Adira, and I wouldn’t even be able to speak with her until tomorrow. Reginald had assured us someone would bring dinner to our rooms, as we were no doubt too exhausted from our journey to dine formally.
It was a small victory that I persuaded Reginald to include Adira in our investigation. But it incensed me that he didn’t see further value for his daughters than to be shiny ornaments for people to admire.
“What does the king know of your gifts?” Fenn asked quietly as we climbed the velvet-lined spiral staircase. Despite his hushed tone, his voice still carried, echoing in the vast space. Several floors up, a chandelier gleamed, reflecting the light from the windows built into the ceiling.
“Not much,” I admitted. “I left Allsburg before my magic fully developed. He knows I can detect fae magic, but not much else.”
Fenn arched a questioning eyebrow at me. “And… would you like to keep it that way?”
I frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I know you don’t like to announce to the world what, specifically, you can do.” Fenn’s words were barely above a whisper. “Would you like to keep the extent of your abilities from the king as well?”
I hesitated. I trusted Reginald to do whatever it took to retrieve his daughters. But what if his decisions jeopardized relations with the Midnight Court? My priority was Fenn and the royal family.
“Let’s wait and see what tomorrow brings,” I said after deliberating. Fenn was right—I liked keeping my gifts to myself. If too many people knew what I could do, it could paint a target on my back. Or worse, Fenn’s.
“Would you mind taking your meal in my chambers, so we can strategize?” Fenn asked.
“Of course.” Then, with a smirk, I added, “My liege.”
Fenn snorted. “Don’t you dare.”
The servants led us down a long and narrow hall lined by dark mahogany walls and sconces that smelled of incense. Fenn disappeared into the first chamber, and I was escorted into the second.
As soon as the door shut behind me, I released a loud groan, sagging immediately to the foot of my bed to rest my leg. It had been throbbing all day, and now the pain was excruciating. I would certainly suffer the consequences for it tomorrow.
Adira knew of my condition. Perhaps I could ask her where I could find some ember root. It was the best remedy for the lingering pain. She took some of it in her nightly tonic for her own condition.
My thoughts soured as I thought of her strange ailment. Since she was a child, she had been unable to sleep. Not even for a few moments. She would spend an entire night staring at the ceiling, and in the morning, she was awake and alert—not the least bit tired.
For years, physicians had struggled to help her sleep. Her parents had feared something was severely wrong with her. But even the most adept of doctors insisted she was perfectly healthy. It seemed as if, somehow, her body didn’t need any sleep.
But Reginald had insisted they find a way to help her fall asleep. So, after years of developing and experimenting with various elixirs, the court physician finally found a tonic that helped Adira sleep. According to her letters, most nights it allowed her a few hours of sleep.
I absently worked my fingers into the base of my calf, massaging the wound as I did every night. But my thoughts were still on Adira. Even after all this time, no one knew why she couldn’t sleep without the tonic. Like her parents, I feared the worst. But unlike them, I wasn’t convinced this tonic held the answers.
A short, high-pitched hiss cut through the air. My motions stilled, and I straightened, the back of my neck prickling with awareness. I squinted into the shadows of my room, trying to see where the noise had come from.
A figure emerged from the crimson drapes that lined the windows. My heart lifted as I recognized her immediately: Adira.