“I hope you’re regretting your choices, Vale,” King Magnus said.
The address took me by surprise. I faced him and found his eyes were cold and hard. How long had he been wanting to say those words?
“Not at all,” I replied when Rhistel didn’t supply a script or force me to remain quiet. It seemed that he wanted to hear an honest answer. “I love her and will choose her every time.”
King Magnus’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll see.”
None of the anger on Magnus’s face lined Érebo’s sleek features as he leaned closer, as if he wanted to tell me a secret. “I was once like you. Trusting in my mate even when our peoples warred against one another. That trust landed me in a tree.”
“Isolde would never hurt me.”
“I thought the same of Sassa.” His face tightened as he twisted to gaze out his rain-spattered window.
Chapter 41
VALE
The carriage shuddered to a stop at the castle doors.
Rhistel nudged my shoulder. “Get out and say nothing until I release you.”
The moment my feet touched the sodden ground of Kuro, glances came my way. Whispers followed. Winter’s Realm and the Mage Kingdom had not been at war for many turns, but the rulers of both kingdoms kept tabs on the important figures. Many recognized us on sight.
“Prince Vale.” A mage dressed in the black and gold of the Royal House of Odarin exited the castle and approached. Two females waited behind him, their mouths sewn shut with shimmering golden thread.
My own lips tightened at the sight of the female mages. I’d heard of the golden thread. Heavily enchanted, the thread disappeared during mealtimes and reappeared the moment the last bite was gone but even during that brief reprieve, the punished could not speak. What had these two done to lose their voices?
“My lords.” The servant bowed in acknowledgment of Thantrel and Érebo. At present, neither looked much like lords, but the servant was being cautious, and for good reason.
King Tyra’s reputation for brutality and scheming was not unlike that of Magnus, though the mage’s extremism extended to his own bloodline. He’d never declared an heir, and claimed he would not, all the while knowing that his future death would throw the kingdom into war. To know that, and delight in the upheaval his death would bring, well, I would be cautious around such a creature too.
“We received the royal raven not long before your arrival,” the servant continued. “Will you be requiring rooms at the castle?”
I remained as mute as the servants with threads of gold binding their lips.
“Should we have to stay.” The King of Winter emerged from the carriage on the heels of Rhistel. “We will sleep on my ship. After all, your king has made it quite clear that fae are not truly welcome here. Why would he make an exception?”
Above, a screech rang through the air. I looked up to find a hawk circling. My head tilted, and I squinted. Was the bird white or gray?
I swept away that line of questioning before Rhistel could sense it. Even if the bird was Arla, I didn’t wish to think of that hawk or the fylgjarn connected to her. Best not to think of the rebels at all right now.
The servant bowed. “I will inform the king of your arrival. Vauti will show you inside.”
The first servant left, and Vauti, one of the mage females, slid closer. She inclined her head.
“Take us to your king,” Magnus said.
We followed Vauti’s slender figure into the castle, made of strong black stone with few of the embellishments that fae loved.Just a painting or a statue here or there, all of them of King Tyra. Had there once been art regaling his ancestors and their accomplishments, it seemed the current ruler had disposed of such works. Or hidden them.
“I despise this place,” Rhistel muttered as two passing mages inclined their heads at us and kept going.
The mages showed us the bare minimum of respect that would be due to a noble. Rhistel took offense to it, as did Magnus, though he was better at hiding it. Better at playing the game. I only recognized his growing irritation by the stiff set of his shoulders, how they seemed to harden with the minutes.
Vauti stopped before a doorway flanked by two other mages, both robed and holding knotted staffs. Soldiers in the highest military order in this kingdom.
“The king will be with you shortly,” one soldier said stonily.
“Good,” Magnus replied with equal ice in his tone.
