“We heard you have surprises!” A brownie squealed when she saw the cake. “Can I have that one?!”
Thyra laughed. “You’ll have to share it, or you’ll make yourself ill.”
“I will,” the girl promised and held out her hands. “Promise.”
The cake was so large I had doubts that the dainty brownie could carry it, but she managed. One by one the younglings lined up for a treat, and they were soon joined by rebels of all ages.
Person by person, cake by tart by wheel of cheese given, my mood lifted. Scents of chocolate, vanilla, cinnamon, and other spices filled the air, and I became so engrossed in chatting with a new mother who had nearly died from happiness when she got an apple pie, that I didn’t notice others had joined.
“We want some,” said a male with the distinct accent of the southlands.
I turned to find a group of thirty fae, none of whom I recognized.
“These are for us, not your lot,” shouted a male rebel with a bulbous nose. “So stop being nosy and sticking yourself where you don’t belong!”
“You’re in our city now,” the faerie leader of the group spoke testily. “And our lord is letting you stay. For free, I think. The least you can do is give us a little cake.”
“How dare you demand that of our princesses,” the new mother growled.
The faerie looked at our Valkyrja and then me and Thyra. It was clear that he hadn’t known who we were, and why would he? My twin and I had mostly stayed at the castle, and we’d made it a point to underdress so as not to draw attention.
“Apologies, Princesses.” The leader placed a hand to his heart. “I didn’t know it was you. I?—”
“You bow to them.” The large nosed rebel’s face had taken on a violent shade of red “That’s what you do or are you so uncultured that you don’t—” the rebel gasped, and his hand flew to his throat.
“Choke him out!” one of the Myrranese shouted so aggressively he showered those standing in front of him with spittle. “Teach the scum a lesson!”
Fates, this was not happening,I thought as a rebel leapt from the crowd, threw a punch at a local, and violence exploded in the street.
Chapter 27
ISOLDE
Where moments before there had been laughter and the scent of sugar in the air, now the metallic tang of blood pierced the street.
“Stop them!” I shouted to the guards as the Valkyrja closed in around us, weapons up and ready. Unnecessary as it seemed like my twin and I had been forgotten.
The fae of Myrr probably didn’t care who sat on a throne so far in the north. Not now. Not ever. But they certainly cared that rebels who had once stolen or fought them lived in their city.
“He’s passed out!” a female cried.
I pivoted to find the rebel with the bulbous nose splayed out on the ground. The local faerie was still squeezing the air from his lungs.
The temperature around me plummeted as I targeted the attacker’s arms, extended towards the rebel. The frost covered the elemental’s hands first and ran up his forearms to his shoulders. With another push, it turned to ice.
The male screamed, and as I was attacking him, I felt the moment he released his air magic. The rebel on the ground gasped and began to suck down air.
“Stay away from him!” Thyra screamed. “If you even think about harming him again, we’ll freeze you from the inside out.”
The thug’s eyes were filled with tears from the pain. “Yes, Highnesses. I-I didn’t mean to take it so far.”
It had to be true, or he wouldn’t have been able to say such a thing, and though that was no excuse, in a way, I understood. My magic had gotten away from me more than once.
The air elemental ran off, leaving his victim on the ground and a giant mess in his wake.
“Halladora, Sigri, and Tonna, help separate the locals and rebels,” I commanded.
Astril positioned herself between us and the bulk of those fighting as our other three sworn shields rushed into the fray, which in a shockingly short amount of time had attracted at least twenty more locals, apparently just stewing for a fight. I scanned for another use of violent magic, but I saw only punches being thrown. As bad as that was, it was better than so many fae using magic against one another.
