The king walked away, leaving Rhistel to stare after him.
Chapter 43
VALE
The ocean swells rocked the boat with rhythmic timing. Out the open porthole, water splashed against the edges of the ship, but I remained focused on the inside of the cabin. On Rhistel.
Since returning to the ship, Thantrel and I had been made to share a room with Rhistel, though my twin had only recently returned to the cabin. What he’d been doing, I did not know, but the look in his eyes was dangerous, and I wished he’d stayed above deck. Better yet, that he’d fallen overboard.
“We’re skirting the coast of Winter’s Realm.” My twin leaned back against the wooden wall, arms crossed over his chest. “Just north of Stormy Bay, already.”
Until he arrived, I’d watched the water flow by, smelled the salt and felt faint sprays of spindrift on my face. I’d seen the land approaching, and thought there was a large island in the middle of the ocean I knew naught of.
“Oh, you may speak.” Rhistel waved a careless hand in the air.
“Impossible.” It had taken us two days just to cross the channel to the island the mages called home.
“We’ve been sailing for less than a day,” Thantrel added, his voice raspy from disuse.
“Sailing with mages has benefits. We’ll be home in three days—perhaps four if the currents are against us. Then, you will be put to work, Vale.”
My skin crawled. Under Rhistel’s thrall, I’d killed a mage lord, and there’d been nothing I could do to stop myself. Since he’d loosened his hold on the ship, I’d felt great remorse. Despised myself for killing that mage.
“Aren’t you at all curious what we’re going to do with you two?” Rhistel asked.
Thantrel snorted. “Obviously, you want to lure our mates. Oh, and perhaps something else depraved and disgusting that I’m not curious about.”
“Weren’t you born in a whorehouse, Riis?” Rhistel’s nose wrinkled. “And now you’re mated to a dirty rebellion leader? You’re not one to talk about being disgusting, now are you?”
Thantrel lunged, but Rhistel was ready and tightened his control. Thantrel reared back, a puppet once again.
“His mother was an elven noble,” I said. “And our father owns dozens of brothels, so I don’t?—”
“My father is the King of Winter’s Realm,” Rhistel snapped. “You might have allied yourself with that spider, but not I.Never me. You’d do well to remember it.”
My head exploded in pain as he bore down on me too.
Stand.
I obeyed, hatred burning through me as my muscles complied.
“Thantrel, you’ll be shoved away somewhere in Avaldenn. A place of unimportance.” Rhistel began to pace. “However, I will devise a production to keep you occupied. Something —what did you call it?—depraved.”
Thantrel said nothing. Could not. Like I no longer controlled my own voice.
“Vale, you’ll be leading your army. Voicing your disdain for the Falks.” Rhistel smirked. “Perhaps we’ll even promise them to the soldiers as a reward? If one lands a hit, they get to bed a princess. What a motivator that will be!”
The idea of Isolde and Thyra being abused brought tears to my eyes.
“That will be after Father and I have had our time, of course. We’re both so curious about Isolde. And even Thyra has piqued my interest—after seeing her in your head, Thantrel. She’s pretty enough and a strong female. I love bending those to my will.”
A low growl was all Thantrel managed, though I didn’t doubt he was fighting as hard as I was to break out of Rhistel’s hold and pummel my twin.
But my brother’s magic bore down harder, colder. Mental images of Isolde began to flash through my head. I blinked. What was going on?
“It’s a skill I’ve developed after turns of research in the House of Wisdom,” Rhistel answered my unspoken question with a smirk. “I’m not even sure our mother developed such talents. The idea is that a whisperer can supplant memories into another mind. We envision and then deposit. In time, the other person won’t be able to tell if what they see is real or not. In time, we can change minds and hearts. I intend to do both.”
I gasped as a sort of vision of Isolde slashing open Saga’s throat filled my mind. Overtook it. Coldness washed through me. I smelled my sister’s blood; it was so real. So visceral.
