“It’s my first time in Myrr,” she replied, deciding to go easy on him. “Now, my turn.”
What to ask? Thyra hoarded questions concerning Thantrel. Most of which she’d never considered voicing, but the ale was loosening her up, and he was watching her as though he wanted to share the most intimate parts of himself.
“Who’s your mother?” The question left her lips before she knew that she’d settled on it.
Thantrel gave a sad smile. “Was. She’s dead.”
“Join the club.”
He chuckled. “She was a lesser noble elf, from about as far south as their kingdom goes. Her family had little coin but anancient name. My father had already been elevated to the title of High Lord when I was born, but he still ran his merchant empire and traveled a lot. They got together, and she became pregnant. She died after I was born, and my living elven relatives sent me here.” He shrugged as if that wasn’t hurtful, but she could see that it affected him. That others hadn’t wanted him when he was so young and innocent.
“Their loss.” She placed a hand on his arm.
His gaze strayed to where she touched him, seeming to savor the sight before he looked up again. “Have you ever been in love?”
She blinked, shocked by the question and sensing what he really wanted to ask beneath it. Had she ever been in love, and was shestillin love?
“No,” the princess replied. “There wasn’t time for that, even when we stayed in Vantalia. And to be honest, Brynhild was a strict mother figure. Males held little interest for me until I was about seventeen, but if I’d been more into dating, or Fates-forbid seriously courting, I doubt Brynhild would have let me.”
She remembered when she turned seventeen, being confused by how her keeper was still so protective. By that time, Thyra defended herself well enough to take down most fae who would try something untoward. Now she understood better.
Brynhild protected Thyra from males or females who might break her heart or hurt her, but also from Thyra attaching herself to the wrong person. Even then, Brynhild saw that the princess might wish to rise and claim the throne. Brynhild understood that Thyra keeping her heart to herself until the time was right would be of the utmost importance.
“Well, if I didn’t already like Brynhild, I would now,” Thantrel placed his elbows on the knotty table as his face brightened. “Your turn.”
She wanted to ask him what his thoughts were on Queen Inga poisoning Harald Falk’s mind, and if he thought his father was right to keep the queen’s secret. But Thantrel, like most others, remained in the dark about the queen being a whisperer. She respected her twin’s mate enough to keep that secret a while longer.
So she turned the tables on him instead. “What about you? Have you ever been in love?”
He laughed. “I should have seen that one coming.”
“Well?”
Thantrel let out a long hum. “Twice. To be honest, I’m surprised the number isn’t higher. When I was young, I fell into romance with anyone who caught my eye.”
“You’re still young,” she stated.
Thantrel had turned twenty during their stint at Valrun, though he hadn’t told her as much until she’d gone to see him in the healer’s sanctuary. He hadn’t wanted a celebration then, hadn’t even mentioned it, because he’d been heartbroken by her rejection.
“Yes, but I spent a lot of time in brothels growing up—my brothers and I were raised by the ladies there. I learned a lot from them.”
“I see . . .”
“Not inthatway,” he added. “No one laid a hand on me. But they spoke about their relationships. Since the age of twelve, love and lust have fascinated me. And when I first felt those pangs of lust, I dove into a relationship and never looked back.”
She remained silent, wanting to ask their names, these fae who had stolen his heart. But she wasn’t willing to use her third question on names of fae she’d likely never meet, not when she had something better planned.
“I’ll give you what you want,” he said, reading the conflict on her face and wanting to share more. For her to know him deeply.“My first love was a nymph. We were both fourteen, and she still lives in Avaldenn. Works at a food stall.”
Thyra made a note to learn which food stall and, if they won the war, never to go there.
“The second was when I was older. Seventeen. He was a squire to a knight. Our relationship didn’t last long. He went to battle an orc horde and never came back.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Thantrel looked down at the table. “I am too. He wasn’t meant for me, but he didn’t deserve the end the Fates dealt him.”
Before she knew what she was doing, she laid her hand on his. Her winter magic came to life inside her, swirling like a storm in her belly.
