“I worry about them,” I admitted as I pulled the mirror from the bag and prepared to call upon the King of Dergia.
Interlude
LORD LEYV RIIS, LORD OF TONGUES, HOUSE OF THE ICE SPIDER
The spymaster gestured to the inn’s door. “Go inside. Get two rooms next to each other and a table by the fire, if you can.”
The princess huddled against the cold and rushed indoors. Lord Riis watched her go, a sigh on his lips.
He understood Inga entrusting her only daughter to him, but did he like the responsibility? No, and not because he disliked the princess.
In truth, he found Saga delightful, and much like her mother when they were younger. However, the spymaster knew Saga was King Magnus’s favored child—his only trueborn child—and that put a target on Leyv’s back. His sons’ backs too, and that worried him greatly.
The spymaster handed the reins to the stablefae and tipped them before grabbing both his bag and Saga’s and followed the princess into the inn. Although the princess did not travel in the bright gowns she favored, and Saga had continued to wear the wig supplied by one of his employees,the princess was easy to spot in the busting tavern portion of the inn. She stood out in a crowd.
As did one other soul in the tavern that night.
Arie, the spymaster’s son, sat in a distant corner, a horn in his hands and a hood raised to cover most of his face. Arie made to stand, but Lord Riis waved him back. His son caught on as Saga joined Leyv the next second, a smile on her exhausted face.
“We got the last two rooms.” She jangled keys on her finger. “Ones at the end of the hall too, so they’ll be quieter, thank the stars. That last inn was far too loud. I barely slept at all.”
She was used to castles with thick stone walls, not noisy and bustling taverns made of wood.
“I also ordered you wine and stew to be delivered to the table,” Saga added, lifting a horn of her own. He noted the cracks at the top of the horn, an indication of the quality they might have to look forward to in their bedrooms. “It’s all they have. They’re even out of bread. A bad sign, isn’t it?”
Many of the smaller inns had seemed to be short on food. Lord Riis wasn’t sure why that was. A war might be brewing, but it hadn’t begun to interrupt greenhouse workings. Perhaps the cold had kept traders at home. Or slowed them down.
“Stew and wine will do for our supper tonight,” he said. “I’ll go set our bags upstairs. Why don’t you find a seat.” He nodded to the fire, glad to see that Arie had repositioned himself so that his back was to them—a smart lad.
The princess handed over the keys to therooms and went in search of a table by the fire. The Lord of Tongues made his way to the staircase leading to their chambers. He trusted Arie would follow after an appropriate length of time.
Doing as he’d said, he stowed Saga’s bag in her room, the one farthest from the noise. When he exited the hall to put away his own bag, he found Arie waiting for him.
But he wasn’t alone. Three fae stood behind him, their stances tight.
“Father,” Arie said softly. “Why are you here with her?”
Her.The people with him did not recognize Saga, and if Arie was not naming the princess, then Lord Riis guessed they might not like her either. Leyv’s stomach twisted. Who were the fae with his son?
“Her mother asked a favor of me I could not refuse.”
Arie swallowed. “We saw you on the map, and I’m here to intercept you. It’s not smart to speak of it here, in the corridor.”
“Inside,” Leyv said, opening his door. “Only you, son.”
The other three glowered, but Arie held up a reassuring hand, and they allowed father and son privacy in the small, battered, but clean, single room. Once the door was closed, Arie began.
“You told us to go to the Golden House, but when we found Vale and Neve, things changed. We’re staying with the rebels now.”
Lord Riis’s mouth fell open, a rare reaction indeed for a spymaster who often knew other’s secrets before they did themselves. “Rebels? Were you caught?”
“At first, yes,” Arie said. “But then they released us, and we’ve been staying with them. Willingly.” He cleared his throat. “One is Neve’s twin.”
“Thyra,” the high lord whispered.
There’d been rumors that she’d lived. None that he’d ever been able to substantiate and eventually, he’d stopped trying. He figured if the youngling had survived, then she’d earned a life safe from Magnus’s reach.
Never in all his turns had he imagined that Thyra Falk would be a rallying point for rebel forces.
