That logic was faulty, for if the Sidhe had been stealing Lysian and Bavadrin citizens, then the treaty was broken long ago. We just had not been wise enough to realize it.
“But Fraser was not killed due to its breaking,” I stated. There was still a price to be paid for the breaking of the treaty. The Spirit indicated thatIwas the curse. Though I did not understand how.
“Was he not?” Edda raised an eyebrow.
“Things could have happened the way they did without such atreaty,” I stated. Without Fraser’s willingness to even hear others out, his own actions alone sealed his fate, treaty or not.
She shifted the conversation away from the treaty and onto the matter at hand. “You will not always understand. There may be things that turn out not as you expect, but they will be the way they should. I am certain that the person who wrote this letter will not bring you harm, at least not while within the rules of this agreement. Clause is dangerous, but he is also a man of his word.”
Edda had always been my protector. However, a strange rift grew between us ever since the Lysians entered our lives. She created distance but without actually leaving my side. Edda was family to me. It was a bond that I thought would never be broken. However, those were childish thoughts, for there were no bonds that could never be broken. Everything breaks with the right amount of pressure.
Still, I trusted her. If she believed it was safe to go, then I would.
I nodded, agreeing to the dinner. Intrigue partially overrode my fear. What would the Sidhe territory be like, what Clause would be like? Would one dinner help me learn whether he took Bavadrins or Lysians?
“But, as soon as the meal is over, leave,” Edda warned, looking from the letter back to me. “This says nothing of protection or safety if you spent the night there. Donotlinger.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t spend the night.” That was something she did not have to worry about. “Will you accompany me?”
Edda hesitated. It was the first time I had ever in my life seen her waver about anything. In all the years I had known her, certainty always guided her. She had eternally known what she wanted to do or what she believed should be done. Her gut was steadfast and fearless in its guidance.
“Yes. For you, I will go,” she finally said, placing the letter on the bed and stood.
She walked across the room and paused at the door. “Are you planning on seeing your friend tonight?”
I could never in my life get one over on her.
“Yes,” I told her. There was no use in hiding it. If before I was just contemplating going to the border, then now, I was certain. Erik needed to know what was going on. We needed to stop avoiding one another.
“Good,” she said, surprising me yet again. “Make contact, but do not tell the Lysian King of that letter, not on a night like tonight. It isn’t safe. Set up a different time to meet with him.”
“You think he will try to hurt me?”
“The Spirit releases the Lysians tonight. News that will disturb should be given when he has better control of himself. Trust me on this.” Her onyx gaze observed me. “Be careful.”
“Is that why you never taught me to conjure without my hands?” The question had been gnawing at the edges of my mind every day since my return.
Edda arched a brow, a faint, knowing smile curving her lips. “Clever,” she said simply, offering no further explanation. But that single word—her subtle acknowledgment—nearly floored me.
I watched her in silence, my thoughts tangled. How had we ended up here? Then again, I realized, this was how it had always been. She led, and I followed, unquestioningly. “You always knew the Lysians would come.”
“No,” she replied, her tone turning sharp. “I knew it was a possibility, one thread in a web of futures. But I also knew this—if you ever found yourself at the mercy of the Lysian King, your survival would hinge on him believing himself superior. His kind thrive on control and power.” Her mouth twisted into a cruel smile. “Don’t look so horrified. If you had kept your distance and forced them to their knees, all would have been well. I gave you options—more chances of survival, depending on the choices you made.”
“Why not tell me any of this?” I demanded, the hurt in my voice cutting through the space between us. “Do you not trust me?”
“It’s not about trust,” she snorted out a cruel laugh. “It’s about the danger of tampering with fate. You would have tried to change it, and that is far more perilous than you realize.”
“And what is my fate?” I pressed.
“You know enough of it already,” she said, her words final, a quiet weight settling in the air between us.
“And the Sidhe King?” I asked after a beat.
“What of him?” Her expression remained unreadable.
“If you know things, thentell me.” The rumors of his immortality rang in my ears, a constant hum of mystery surrounding the man.
Edda exhaled, her lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “The Sidhe King cannot be contained, and you cannot hope to control him. He does not share the simple, brutish mind of a Lysian, nor does he rely solely on physical strength. He is far more dangerous than that. Let him too close, and he will destroy you. Do not try to understand his motives foranything. You may think you want to know, but you do not.”
