What a strange place. Keir stood on one of the upper balconies of the palace, gazing down at the snowy field stretching all the way to the nearest village. If he craned his neck, he could see a frozen lake, where a group of children pushed a black ball around with sticks, yelling at each other and falling all over the ice.
Other children ran through ankle-deep snow, chasing each other, their laughter reaching the balcony. He didn’t understand what they were doing. It certainly wasn’t the type of work children in Vondur performed. They typically worked with their parents in the fields or in the shops and many smithies, making items to provision the army. Once they reached an age, the boys left their homes behind to fight for their kingdom.
It had been the way of things for as long as he could remember.
“I was you once,” a voice sounded behind him.
Keir turned to find the king in the doorway. There were no guards following him, and he wore no protection, having no obvious worries of someone aiming an arrow at him should he stand in the open too long.
Lochlan walked farther out onto the balcony. “My home was in danger, but the danger was within. I resided in a different kingdom, and all I could do was watch my people suffer.”
“What did you do?” Keir asked.
Lochlan gave him a tight smile. “I fought. Now, my fae know peace.” His eyes drifted to the yelling children. “They can play because we refused to give up on them. How long have you worn the crown?”
“Not long.”
Lochlan nodded, as if he’d expected that answer. “Well, a good king always puts his kingdom before himself, always strives for peace.”
“Peace. It’s such a foreign concept. Lenya has been at war for so long no one alive remembers a time when the fighting didn’t overwhelm our lands. Grima and Vondur have a tentative alliance now, but it is new.”
“One thing I have learned in my many years upon the throne is that an army may fight, but if given the choice, they will trade their swords for plows, their horses for oxen. Give them that choice, Keir, and never take it away. They will love you for it.”
Maybe they would have, but Keir would never get the chance to know. “And if fighting is the only option?”
“Ah.” Lochlan nodded. “You wish you were able to return with Bronagh.” He studied Keir for a moment. “Come, we have much to discuss.”
Lochlan led him in out of the frigid temperatures, but the chill didn’t leave him. It was a constant reminder that he was in this frozen kingdom while his fae suffered the effects of scorching heat.
They walked through the palace, across velvet carpets, to a sitting chamber with two settees facing each other in front of a roaring fire set back in the marble hearth.
A servant followed them in and bowed. “Sire, I have sent for tea.”
“Thank you,” Lochlan said absently. “I do not need anything further.”
The man bowed again and backed out, shutting the doors and trapping Keir with Tierney’s father, a man who’d intimidated him before they’d even met.
Tierney idolized the man. That much had been clear since she was Keir’s prisoner in Vondur. But it was more than that. She loved him. Disappointing him hurt her. It was the kind of dynamic Keir never had with his own father. He couldn’t imagine his father searching for him if he’d gone missing or worrying for him every day like it was clear Lochlan had done.
There were deep lines of exhaustion in the face of the Iskalt king. As if these last months still weighed him down.
“Please,” he said, “sit.”
Keir lowered himself to the settee, and Lochlan took the seat across from him. They didn’t speak, the silence stretching between them. A knock sounded on the door before a young woman entered, carrying a silver tray laden with a pot of tea, two cups, and a plate of what looked like biscuits. Sort of.
She set the tray on the table between the settees and left.
Lochlan leaned forward, pouring tea into the two cups. “Milk?”
“Please.” Keir picked up one of the biscuits and smelled it. There were dark spots across the top, and it reeked of sugar.
“Cookies,” Lochlan explained. “My wife insists on making them herself with ingredients she gets from the human realm. I believe she calls them oatmeal. She tells me it’s like porridge baked in the oven.”
Keir set it down without taking a bite.
Lochlan chewed on one of his own. “They’re actually quite good. The dark bits are chewy and sweet. I forget what she told me they’re called, but the children adore them.”
“Is being wed to someone so connected to the human realm odd?” Keir asked, truly interested. Tierney was strange in her human sayings, but he’d sensed it was nothing compared to her mother.
“Young man, marriage itself is odd.”
Keir laughed at that. “You seem to have a wonderful family.”
A fond smile spread across the dour king’s face. “They age me to no end, and sometimes I feel as if I will never be free of rebellious women and the boys who can’t resist them, but then I remember I am one of those boys. My family is more than I ever imagined it could be. There was a time I didn’t believe in much, not even in myself.”
Keir had a hard time imagining that. This man, who seemed to know all, to wear his crown as if he was meant to. He was so sure of his actions. “You hide it well.”
“The secret is to find one person who sees your vulnerabilities. If they allow you to have your doubts, to voice your questions, with the rest of the world, pretending becomes second nature. As long as that one person lets the act fall, it will not become who you are.”
One person. Keir saw her so clearly in his head. Tierney saw who he really was, not the man raised by a cruel father or the one who kept her prisoner. She looked past everything he’d done, everything he tried to pretend he was.
“Ah,” Lochlan said. “I thought so.”
“Sir?”
“You’ve already found that person.”
He had. The way Lochlan looked at him, a calculating gleam in his eyes, had Keir wanting to stand and run from the room. Instead, he sipped his tea and crossed one leg over the other.
Lochlan nodded, his face growing serious. A crease formed in his forehead, and blue sparked in his eyes. He blinked, and it was gone. “I am sorry. I don’t know if anyone has explained our magic to you, but strong emotions draw it forth, and it isn’t always easy to hide when it rises.”
“Was there something I said that angered you?” The last thing he wanted was to get on this man’s bad side. He needed him to help Lenya.
Lochlan sighed. “No. I was thinking of my daughter, and she always sparks such a reaction in me. Tierney is stubborn. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
Keir’s lips twitched. “Maybe a time or two.” What would Lochlan say if he knew Keir had held his daughter captive? Would he still be a welcome guest, a potential ally?
“But she is strong, stronger than any fae I have ever met. Ruling Iskalt is an honor, one Tierney earned when she was ten.” He paused. “If I’d had crowned her then, the Iskaltians would have accepted her. At ten, I had never faced hardship. But she saved four kingdoms.”
“Tierney is unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”
“Keir, are you in love with my daughter?”
“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate. It was a conclusion he’d come to on the ship when they first sailed into the maelstrom. He hadn’t wanted to love her, to need her. For so long, Tierney was a temptation, a fae he couldn’t resist. He hadn’t known it then, but they were connected.
“Hm.” Lochlan stood and walked toward the hearth, staring into the flames. “I know what some think of me, but I have my reasons for wanting Tierney to marry. I’m not a cruel father, but if she is going to be queen, she needs someone to temper her, to calm her rash actions and weather her storm.”
It was the perfect analogy. Tierney was a storm that had ripped through his life, wreaking havoc. But in the aftermath, there was peace.
Lochlan turned. “Do you wish to marry my daughter?”
Keir couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t summon words or pick out a single thought swirling through his mind.
“She refuses all the nobles of Iskalt,” Lochlan went on, seemingly oblivious to the crisis inside Keir. “She needs a powerful ally, one who will always support her should anyone try to take her throne.” He took his seat again. “My parents lost the Iskaltian throne when my father died, and it plunged our family into years of betrayal and took a war to win it back. My brother and I were raised in foreign courts. I do not want my people to ever go through such unrest again.”
It made so much sense now why Lochlan was so desperate to secure the throne for generations to come. He was scared. History did not predict the future, but it could inform it.
“I would like to add a marriage to the treaty between our kingdoms.” Lochlan steepled his fingers. “Lenya will receive access to all fire opal resources in the four kingdoms, but to secure our alliance, you will marry my daughter.”
He didn’t know. Keir held a giant secret, but if he was going to consider such a deal, if he truly wanted to marry Tierney, Lochlan had to know. He cleared his throat, coughing into his fist. “I …” He drew in a breath. “There is something you must know before making such a deal, something no one knows other than my sister and my most trusted council member.”
Lochlan waited, not saying a word.
Keir just had to get it out, to voice the very thing he’d been afraid of, the one act that made him a poor king. “I abdicated the throne.”
Silence. It stretched like a violent sea preluding the storm.
Keir pictured Eavha’s face when he’d told her what he planned. She hadn’t agreed with him, but she’d signed the documents as a witness in front of Lord Robert.
He’d never wished to be a king. Keir only wanted peace for his kingdom, and he achieved that. Once he stopped the fire plains, they needed someone who could rule out of duty, love. Not a man who’d gained his crown through his father’s spilled blood.
Keir stared down at his hands, as if he could still feel the warm blood from not only his father but all the nobles who issued the King’s Comhrac. Vondur deserved a fresh start.
Finally, Lochlan spoke. “Tell me, Keir, did you give up your crown out of a sense of fear or a true love for your fae?”
“I do not fear duty. I was not the ruler my fae deserved.”
Understanding entered Lochlan’s gaze. “Believe it or not, I do know what you speak of.”
Keir didn’t get how Lochlan could possibly understand, but he didn’t question it. “Now that you know the truth, do you still wish for me to marry your daughter?”
Lochlan hesitated for a moment. “I do not care if you wear a crown, only that you’re able to support hers.”
“I will support her with everything I have. But you must know, whether Tierney and I marry is not up to you, and it is not up to me. She has a mind of her own, and she will make her own decisions.”
A smile flashed across his face before it was gone. “Then, we have a deal.”
“No.” Hadn’t he heard him? “Not yet.”
Lochlan stood, extending a hand. “I am glad we could reach an agreement.”
Keir didn’t take the hand as he got to his feet. “There is no agreement.”
Lochlan nodded. “You may leave now.” He put a hand on his back and ushered him to the door.
Keir turned when he stepped into the corridor. “There’s no deal.”
The Iskaltian king only nodded and shut the door, leaving Keir to wonder what in the world just happened. Had he agreed to be married?
There was someone he needed to find. It took him the better part of an hour to seek Gulliver. He sat in a library with his father, a map spread out before them.
“So, Lenya is here?” Griff pointed to a blank part of the map across the fire plains, his eyes bright.
Gulliver leaned his chair back, balancing on two legs. His tail rose and flicked his father’s hand. “I already told you that.”
“Gullie, you’ve been to a land no one else even knew about. Forgive me for being curious.”
Gulliver rolled his eyes to Keir. “Curious is an understatement. Obsessed is more accurate.”
“King Keir.” Griff shot to his feet. “You can help us. I want to know everything there is to know about Lenya.”
Gulliver groaned. “You don’t have to talk to him. He’s just being obnoxious. I’ve already told him about Vondur and Grima.”
“Yes, but their magic works from fire opals? It’s fascinating.”
“We do not call them opals,” Keir explained. “But yes, they allow us to harness the power.”
“Amazing.”
“Ask me about the dungeons while you’re at it, Dad.” Gulliver scrubbed a hand across his face. “Would you like to know what I named the rats?”
Griff’s mouth opened and shut, and guilt curled in Keir’s gut. He waited for Gulliver to tell his father who’d kept him prisoner, but those words never came.
“Fair enough.” Griffin sighed. “You don’t want to talk about it. I’m sure Keir didn’t seek you out to listen to you being mean to your old man.”
Gulliver shook his head, a hint of a smile appearing on his lips. “Did you need me for something, Keir?”
Keir hesitated before walking forward and taking the empty seat at their table. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
Gulliver lifted a brow.
“Oh, do go on.” Griff grinned. “This sounds interesting.”
Keir swallowed heavily. He had to force the words out. Here went nothing. “The king has asked me to marry Tia.”
Gulliver and his father stared at each other before bursting out in laughter.
“Lochlan will never learn.” Griffin laughed.
Gulliver wiped away fake tears. “I hope for magic’s sake you said no.”
“I did … but he didn’t seem to hear me.”
“Classic Loch.” Griff lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “Everyone is either in agreement with him or simply wrong. Does he not realize his daughter ran away the last time he tried to marry her off?”
“I’m not going with her this time.” Gulliver crossed his arms, still laughing.
“There is a difference now though.” Griffin’s laughter died away. “Tierney might say yes.”
Keir’s chest inflated with hope, but it slowly faded when Gulliver shook his head. “You have no idea. Keir and Tierney had this weird toxic thing going on, but they hate each other most of the time.”
“So did your mother and I.”
“Ew, gross. I don’t want to imagine you two being as sickening as Keir and Tierney have been, even if I was around for a lot of it. I blocked it out.”
“When hate turns to love, son, it can be the most wonderful, passionate—"
“Don’t say passionate.”
“—relationship.”
Gulliver rested his face in his hands, his palms muffling his voice. “Why did you come to me, Keir? Was it for my blessing?”
Keir wasn’t really sure. “I …”
“The only blessing that matters is Tierney’s, and if she finds out her father is playing with her life again, I guarantee it won’t be pretty.”
“I’m in love with her.” There was desperation in his voice. Ever since Lochlan asked the question, all Keir could think about was spending the rest of his life fighting with Tierney, loving her.
“And that’s great, but she won’t play a part in any scheme. For the record, I believe you love her, and yet you still don’t get it. You were raised in a kingdom where women had no control over their lives, no respect. You have come a long way, but the next lesson you must learn is that Tierney won’t marry you just because she loves you—if she does. That isn’t enough. You need to prove you respect her as much as you love her.”
“And if I do that?”
“Well, she’ll still probably say no.”