Young, shy Filip, hung back and waved, only for Vale to scoop the heir of Myrr off his feet. Sian laughed as he came to me, pulled me close.
“Father is not pleased to have Falks at the gates,” he whispered. “But Filip, Baenna, Eireann, and I vouched for you.”
My heart warmed. I’d known I had friends in the great house of the south, but after all that had happened, all the gossip about me, I was relieved that they still counted me as such.
“We might be the only reason he’s allowing you into the city, but we will not be enough to sway him if he doesn’t want you here. You and your court have a plan, right,Isolde?”
“We do,” I whispered back.
Sian broke away and scanned the rest of our party. Bac, with his Balik features, didn’t fail to garner his interest. Neither did Aleksander, who looked a lot like me. Or the dwarves bearing house colors I doubted Sian could place. For centuries, those of Winter’s Realm had believed that Dergia was lost to mountain dust. But it was Saga’s presence that seemed to stump him the most.
“What are you doing here?”
“It’s a long story. One best told over a goblet of mulled wine later tonight.” Saga winked.
“We’ll make that happen.” Sian’s warm, gold eyes landed on Thyra. Knowing sparked there. “Princess Thyra, I presume?”
“Yes, and you’re Lord Balik’s heir?” Thyra asked.
“I’m a Balik, but not the next High Lord of the Southlands.” Sian gestured to Filip, who was still pink-cheeked from Vale’s hug and standing two paces away. “That’s my brother. You can call me Sian.”
“I’m Filip.” The heir ran his hand through his golden-brown hair nervously.
Thyra nodded. “So, are we allowed to enter?”
Sian smirked. “Follow me.”
The Balik brothers led us through the castle. With each step, I mentally ran through what could happen, hoping Thyra and I might gain another ally today, and praying that the Warden of the South wouldn’t dismiss us. Or worse, toss us in a dungeonfor King Magnus to collect. And yet, despite being engrossed by the ‘what ifs’, I simultaneously found myself mesmerized by the castle that those of House Balik called home.
The halls were a symphony of black and gold and hunter green, colors of the ruling family. Ramshold was a shockingly bare name for a place I suspected was opulent in every nook and cranny.
“Stop here.” Sian held out a hand at an intersection. “The door is just there. But I don’t think you all should go in. There are simply too many of you.”
“No,” Thyra retorted before I could consider his words. “We all go.”
Sian cast a glance at the vampires. Their heavy cloaks had been enough to disguise them from the curious fae of Myrr, but not Sian. As we walked, I’d heard him whispering to my husband about the trio.
“They’re sworn to us,” I said. “You can trust them.”
“Sworn?”
“As Valkyrja.” Thyra’s chin lifted as she spoke the name of the ancient order of female warriors, the likes of which had not been seen in centuries.
Sian’s eyes widened, and an impressed expression came across his face, but before he could respond, Filip chimed in.
“Father will see their court as a sign of strength. Everyone should come.”
Sian shrugged. “Have it your way.”
We entered the grand hall, and my breath hitched at the beauty before me. The ceiling of onyx studded with diamonds reminded me of a more luxurious version of the walls in the Tower of the Living and the Dead. On each wall mountains had been rendered in gold, giving the impression that we stood in a valley beneath a cloudless sky.
Lord Tadgh Balik sat on a seat, black and dark green, with two enormous, golden horns sprouting from the top and curling back. Surely that seat had been a throne, back when the Baliks were the kings and queens of the southlands.
Lady Kilyn Balik stood beside her husband’s seat, her back straight, long red hair braided back. Their many children were present too, fanning out on both sides of their father’s impressive chair. Nothing about this show of unity surprised me when it came to the Baliks.
What I had not expected, however, was to find Lady Marit Armenil, and a member of Vale’s cabal, Sir Qildor, standing just off to the side. And theyheld hands.
Marit caught me staring, and with her free hand, gave a small wave. As much as I wanted to know what was going on between them and why my friend was here when she should be in the midlands, I kept striding behind Sian and Filip. Lord Balik’s glower told me he didn’t wish to wait any longer to hear why two princesses long-thought dead had sought him out. And the contingent of twenty guards in the hall emphasized the fact that the high lord saw us as a threat.
