The flames flicker to life in my fireplace the second I walk through the door of my bedchambers at Valerian.
I freeze. There’s no point denying I’d seen it; my mother can always sense the truth.
Squatting by the hearth, I glance over my shoulder, then wave my hand through the flames, muttering the appropriate linking spell.
My mother’s face ripples into view. “The prince appears to still be alive.”
And hello to you too. “Keep your voice down,” I whisper. “One of the prince’s warriors doesn’t trust me. She watches every move I make.”
“She?”
“Eris?”
My mother smirks. “That filthy half-bred mutt. How can the bastard prince even claim to rule a Seelie court when he takes in such scraps?”
Perhaps that’s why his people are so loyal to him. Because he fights for their right to exist and cares little for their breeding or species. But there’s no point giving voice to my thoughts. Because Adaia’s definition of loyalty only seems to extend to that which is offered to her.
“I see your knife hasn’t left its sheath.”
“I… can’t get near him,” I lie. “Not with her watching me.”
Adaia’s eyes narrow. “You could stop a war, my daughter. None of our subjects need die—”
“I don’t think he’s interested in a war—”
Adaia’s sneer cuts me off. “Your weakness is showing through. Does he woo you with his charm? Whisper his hopes for peace in your ear, even as he amasses his troops?”
“I’ve seen no sign of any army—”
“And where is he keeping you? Golden Ceres? The City by the Bay? Or has he got you locked away in Valerian?”
There’s no need to answer.
Adaia’s smile widens viciously. “What is he trying to shield you from? What is he hiding? This is why you must think with your head, Iskvien, and not your heart. He will try and turn you against me. He will use you in this petty war between us. Don’t doubt that for a moment. He’s not interested in you. You’re just a pawn he can play with.”
“Careful, Mother. He’s beginning to sound interchangeable with you.”
It aches, deep in the cavity where my heart should lie.
A little bit for the prince who charms and flirts with me, but mostly for the mother I’ve long since lost favor with. And I try to tell myself I don’t care, but a part of me does want my mother’s approval back.
Adaia’s lips thin in displeasure. “We’re all pawns to our kingdom’s whims. Prove to me that you can be trusted with your heart, and perhaps I’ll allow you to be the one pulling your own strings. Do your people a favor. Kill him. Before he twists your heart against your own kingdom. Your own family.”
“This isn’t the right time, Mother. Angharad’s been seen in Mistmere. She has her Unseelie army trying to right the stones of the Mistmere Hallow. We think she’s trying to access some of the Mother of Night’s power—or perhaps to free her.”
Silence.
“Angharad sealed the accords with her blood. She cannot go against them.”
“I saw her with my own eyes, Mother!” I can see it doesn’t matter. “If there is any war beckoning on the horizon, then it is with the Unseelie hordes. We will need our allies, if we are not to be overrun by Unseelie. We will… need the prince.”
The queen shakes her head in disgust. “I had hoped you could retain your senses. I’d hoped he hadn’t gotten to you yet. But I see my trust was misplaced. He’s already twisted you to his whims.”
“It’s not—”
The queen waves a hand, her image flickering. “Kill him. Or do not bother answering my summons again, for I will be done with you.”
And then she vanishes.
I head downstairs for dinner, still aching in every muscle in my body.
Voices drift from the dining room.
"This wasn't just an attack," a strident female voice points out. Eris. "Angharad was prepared to counter any scouts. With that many banes in place, she’s being even more careful than usual.”
“What I want to know is how she got past the fucking borders without being seen,” Thiago snaps. “Queen Maren and I have enough patrols on Mistmere’s northern flank to spot a grouse trying to sneak through.”
“I haven’t been able to ride the borders while Her Highness is here,” Eris replies, “and she probably knows it. If you give me a few days, I can ride north and see what’s going on. I left Hainard in charge, and he’s a solid captain. He should be doing his job.”
“No. No,” Thiago says with a sigh. “I need you here. Especially if Angharad is plotting an invasion.”
"Your powers keep them in check," said a man. Finn, possibly, as he seems to go hand-in-hand with Eris. "She’s testing you. She won’t consider a full-blown thrust unless she is certain she can defeat you on the battlefield. If they know you were weakened—"
"I'm not weakened," Thiago counters with a snarl.
I press my fingers to the crack in the door. There’s a chamber beyond, and I can see the prince pacing, dressed in strict black as always.
“Those wounds should have healed by now,” Eris says. "The iron is still in your blood—"
"I. Am. Not. Weakened.”
"Do they know that?" It’s Finn, resting his knuckles on some sort of round table as he glares at his prince. "The Unseelie aren’t our only cause for concern. If word of this gets back to Adaia….”
"She'll attack," Thiago says, in a weary voice. “But it won’t get back, because only the three of us know about it.”
The door is wide enough to see Eris and Finn share a look.
“And the princess?” Eris suggests.
“She wouldn’t do that,” Thiago replies.
“Are you sure?” Clearly Eris isn’t as certain. “She’s still her mother’s creature.”
“She’s never been her mother’s creature. No matter what Adaia’s tried to mold her into, Vi’s always rebelled. She doesn’t have her mother’s ruthless heart, nor Adaia’s ambitions. She won’t tell her mother, because then she’ll feel guilty. She doesn’t lie very well.”
His certainty is a shock.
I didn’t realize he’d been studying me as thoroughly as I’ve been studying him.
“I just need time for the iron to drain from my blood,” Thiago tells them. “Until then, I’ll keep my magic to a minimum. Nobody in Ceres will know.”
I clear my throat loudly enough to announce my presence and step through the door. Instantly, Eris scowls, but Finn’s smile widens.
“Princess,” he says. “You look much recovered after your bath. I barely recognize you. A bedraggled warrior went into the steam rooms, and a radiant woman emerged in her place.” He pats his cheeks. “Perhaps I should try it.”
Thiago gives his friend a quelling look.
“There’s not enough water in the world,” Eris mutters, “to transform you.”
“We’re just about to eat,” Thiago says, coming forward to draw out a chair for me. “We were discussing tomorrow. We’re going to Ceres. I need to contact the Alliance and set a few things into place to counter Angharad.”
“Am I included in that ‘we’?”
“Yes.” Thiago eases my chair back in as I sit. His knuckles graze my bare shoulders, and I think he’s almost about to rest his hand there before he thinks better of it. “I need Eris, and I can’t afford to leave her behind to guard you.”
My heart skips a beat. I can’t avoid hearing my mother’s words in my ears. There’s something he’s not telling me, and somehow, I know I’ll find the answers in Ceres.
“I’ll be ready at dawn.”
The prince insists upon blindfolding me for the journey to Ceres, which only engages my curiosity.
I barely have time to think about it though, as the second he engages the Hallow, my stomach decides to reverse itself. This doesn’t feel like the trip to Mistmere. It feels like the Hallow itself is sucking at me, trying to drain me of my magic. I try to shield, but I’m on my knees before I know it, and my head aches.
“Here,” Thiago says, resting a hand on my forehead.
Instantly, the power drain is gone.
I come to on my knees, breathing hard. “What was that?”
He swings me up into his arms, which I really should protest, but don’t have the strength to. “You’ve been travelling through portals regularly. It affects some fae more than others, particularly if they’re not warded against the power of the ley line.”
I know he thinks he’s telling the truth, but I can’t help thinking he’s wrong.
Something about the Hallow didn’t feel right.
We seemingly climb a thousand stairs, and I catch the sound of servants bustling through the castle, before the prince sets me on my feet and whips my blindfold away.
Light stabs at my eyes. I wince, but I can also make out a woman sitting in what appears to be a circular tower room.
The last time I saw Thalia, she was wearing red, but now she’s in a green gown that’s more daring than anything I’ve ever worn. Gold lace epaulets rest on her shoulders, with a heavy golden cloak made of thin metallic scales that drapes to the floor. Dozens of golden chains loop around her throat and cross her bodice. It’s the most elegant gown I’ve ever seen.
The tall, exotic beauty shares some of the same features as the prince, such as his thick dark hair and almond-shaped green eyes. But it’s the way she claps her hands together and smiles at me that takes me aback. “Your Highness,” Thalia says, sweeping toward me and taking my hands. “I’m so glad to meet you again. I thought Thiago was going to keep you locked away in that gloomy old city forever.”
For some reason, I’d thought her the cousin that was supposed to be traded to my mother in exchange for me.
There must be another one.
I don’t know why, but I want to smile back at her. Her welcome feels genuine, and her smile is infectious.
“So did I.”
“E,” she says, turning and giving Eris an enthusiastic hug. “I missed your glowering face.”
“Ugh,” Eris says, pushing her away and brushing herself off, as if to rid herself of Thalia’s enthusiasm. “What part of ‘I don’t hug’ did I not make clear?”
“Sorry.” Thalia winks at her. “I forgot you don’t like being touched… unless it’s by a fae lord with an enormous cock.”
“Erlking’s hairy balls,” Finn mutters under his breath. “Thalia.”
“What?” she asks innocently. “You should have seen it. I burst into Eris’s rooms, thinking—as usual—she’d be alone, and there’s this enormous—”
“No, no, no.” He claps his hands over his eyes. “I am not going to even picture it. I refuse.”
“Speaking of hairy balls—”
Finn throws a cushion at her, and Thalia bursts into laughter even as Eris winces.
“Beware the Prince of Evernight’s most dangerous allies,” Thiago says dryly.
I don’t quite know what to make of it.
My mother’s advisors and generals are all stiff, malicious bastards who wouldn’t dare break into a smile.
“Where’s Baylor?” Thiago asks.
“Frightening small children?” Finn replies.
“Dangling miscreants off the tower?” Thalia suggests.
The doors slam open, and a rugged warrior wearing battle-scarred leathers and an enormous helmet stalks inside. “Drilling in the yard with the rest of the guards,” he says, “because someone around here has to actually do his job.” Then he notices Eris and tips his head to her. “Excluding my favorite little menace.”
“Little?” she scoffs.
Now I definitely don’t know what’s going on. Eris appears to have a sense of humor. Who knew?
“Vi, this is Baylor, the last of my generals.”
“Or first,” the enormous warrior says, dragging his helmet off his head so that a tumble of golden hair brushes against his shoulders.
It’s like looking into the eyes of a dead man.
A shocked gasp escapes me as I stare at a mirror image of the bane Andraste killed.
“Vi?” Thiago frowns as he notices my reaction.
Indeed, everyone in the room is staring at me.
“I….” I need space to breathe and a moment to think. “Sorry.” I press my hands to my temples, flinging a weak smile at the prince. “I think I haven’t entirely recovered from the trip through the portal. My head’s aching.”
Thiago pushes to his feet. “Do you need—”
“No.” I wave him off. “I’m fine. I just need to rest.”
In the privacy of my rooms, where I’m not staring my guilty conscience in the face.
I don’t look back.
But I can almost feel them exchanging glances.