She stared at me, and I wasn’t sure she knew what to make of my apology. I wasn’t entirely sure either. But it had felt right and from the heart and it was the truth. The best I could do.
The pixie went so still and silent that had I not seen her lungs fill, I would have thought she stopped breathing.
Finally, though, she spoke. “I accept your apology and you. We were on different sides, and, from what I’ve heard, now we’re not.” She stuck out a small hand. “Don’t make me regret this.”
I gave her a finger, and she pressed her skin to mine as murmurs once again flooded the dining hall.
The pixie snorted and tossed her sheets of long, white hair over her shoulders. “Fates, we’ll be all the gossip tonight.”
“I expect we will,” I said with a soft smile. “What’s your name, anyway?”
“Xillia.” She looked beyond me. “I think some others wish to speak with you. I’ll leave them to it.”
She fluttered off as fast as she arrived, and I twisted to find a line of at least twenty fae. Some were clearly ravaged by the blight. Others by battle. Some wore looks of anger, others of interest.
“Fates,” Duran murmured. “I’m going to scoot down and give you and . . . all of them some privacy.” He did just that, leaving a sizable gap between me and my friends.
I took another long drink of ale before locking eyes with the first in line. “Shall we speak?”
An hour later, the last person requesting an apology left the table. Their frustration with me, with their king, and with the state of the realm had burrowed deep in my bones.
Of course, I’d known things in Winter’s Realm were not perfect, but to learn how far from ideal the kingdom was for the commonfae rocked me to my core. My plate of food, half eaten, sat before me. The remains had long gone cold for I no longer had an appetite.
At the end of the table, my friends waited. As none had a reputation such as mine, no one expected anything of them. They’d eaten and set in on drinking ale—all the while observing me. Measuring if I was well. Occasionally, I’d give them a nod or a wave, telling them that I was fine.
The truth was, I was far from fine. But I’d needed to do this all the same. To listen to the grievances of the fae of Winter’s Realm. Mostly, I could not fully apologize, and I was shocked to find that many understood my reasoning, even if they did not like it.
We are all people of duty. Of honor and oaths.
“Vale? Should we return to the annex?” Duran asked.
“Yes. I think so. I?—”
“Urgent news!” a gruff voice shouted over the din of rebels. “Shut itnow!”
The talking in the hall quieted, and all heads turned to where the voice had come from. Near the door, a male faerie with silver hair and wings stood, arms raised.
“What is it, Aleksander?” A female faerie as tall as me and with broad shoulders stood at her table.
“King Magnus and a constituent of Clawsguard havebeen spotted flying about the midlands. They were not so far from here.” Aleksander roared. “Lord Roar Lisika too.”
I stiffened. The king and Roar? Flying together this far south?
I stood. “Were they on wing?”
Aleksander’s gaze landed on me, and he scowled. “Gryphonback. Though I’m not sure I should say more with the prince about.”
Silence rang through the hall and fae stared.
I left the table to walk over to the male. When we stood face to face, a jolt of recognition trilled through me.
This male had ice-blue eyes. When paired with his silver hair and wings, however, he looked much like Neve. My eyes scanned him more closely.
The same chin and nose too.I suspected I was looking at a Hawk Seed.
“Are you going to run to your father now, Prince Vale? Tell him that we’ve spotted him? Squeal of Valrun?”
I shook my head. “You may not know this, but my wife, Princess Neve, is indeed a Falk. And my mate.” I did not tell this male that I was not an Aaberg anyway. The time would come for that revelation, but not tonight. “I stand with my mate. I’d do nothing that compromises her and that includes drawing the king here.”
