No one dared to so much as move. After an eternity, Draven finally nodded his head.
“Now that that’s settled, I believe dinner is about to be served,” he continued before gesturing between Lady Thessara’s frozen corpse and the servants. “I’d like for her to remain where she is for the time being. Let her serve as a reminder to everyone of exactly what will happen when they insult my wife.”
Soren let out a low, considering hum, and everyone’s attention snapped toward him.
“Sothat’swhat the Visionary meant when she warned that the queen’s enemies would be ‘claimed by the cold tonight,’” he added, tapping a finger thoughtfully against his chin.
Then he shrugged, as if Draven’s execution-by-frost-mana was nothing more than a mildly interesting footnote in an otherwise pleasant evening.
Wynnie, too, was utterly unbothered. Even the other courtiers had recovered with remarkable speed, chuckling lightly at Soren’s comment.
Draven gave off no hint of amusement, but determination emanated through the bond, even if I hadn’t been able to read the lack of remorse in his features. Still, he moved to stand in between the frozen statue—corpse—and me, placing a hand on my back to lead me to the glittering table.
I followed his lead, wondering how many lives could be stacked against my own in the name of protection before it started to wear on all of our souls.
Chapter 22
Draven
Ihadn’t balked when Redthorne suggested we cater to public opinion before, even if that was mostly for the sake of Nevara. But tonight proved what I’d already known: Autumn diplomacy does not work in Winter.
The fae that belonged to Winter respected strength. They were just as brutal as the mountains, just as dangerous. Nothing but the strongest storms could move them.
They respected power. Responded to fear.
Even if the disdain emanating from Everly’s bond proved her further obstinance against acknowledging our reality.
Soren’s silver tongue had begun to shift their view of Everly, that much was clear from the way they reacted to his stories this evening. But that wouldn’t be enough on its own. And that was something I’d known from the moment Lady Thessara opened her mouth.
I was ready to end her then. Hells, I had been ready to be done with her impertinence the very first time she insulted my wife, but then I glimpsed the fury in Noerwyn’s expression and decided I wanted to see her unleash it on someone else for a rare change.
Even so, the court needed something more permanent. They needed to understand that I kept my promises and that no one would be permitted to disrespect my wife again.
And the frozen corpse standing in the center of the Hall would deliver that message well enough for now.
But as the nobles filed from the room, my thoughts drifted to someone conspicuously absent.
Eryx.
Despite a summons extended to every member of the court, he had not made an appearance. Not through drinks or during any course of the meal. Between our last conversation in my study and the line I had just drawn in the snow regarding Lady Thessara, his disobedience wasn’t something I could allow to stand.
By the time dinner was over, I was well and truly seething.
I carefully reached for Everly’s arm and felt the unmistakable press of her mana against her skin. It was just as restless and feral as ever, begging to be set free.
I gently brushed my thumb along her wrist, drawing some of her mana into myself to sate it. Everly sighed and leaned in a little closer, her relief palpable through our bond.
The only reason we had made it through dinner was because I had done this very thing every few minutes, taking just enough to keep it from boiling over.
It was clear that she was exhausted. The faintest shadows lined her crystalline eyes, and her steps faltered a little more than before. She needed to rest, but leaving her alone was not an option yet. Not while this business with Eryx still needed to be settled.
We landed in the war room, where Commander Astreval had informed me the Lord General was reviewing reports. His posture was rigid, his expression cold. He gave a slight, stiff bow.Not formal enough for his king. And certainly not enough for his queen.
Good, I didn’t want to waste my time.
“You chose not to attend the dinner,” I said plainly.
His jaw tightened. “I did.”
