“The stories you’ve heard, no doubt, are one-sided. Mortals do love tales of villains lurking in the dark.”
I didn’t so much as blink. “Perhaps because they’re often true.”
He stepped closer. “Perhaps. But you’re in my realm, Isara. Under my protection,” he said. “If I wanted to harm you, I wouldn’t need a trick or a trap.”
A shiver clawed up my spine, my fingers clenched but the tremor didn’t stop.
Not because I thought he was lying.
Because I knew he wasn’t.
“Is that supposed to be reassuring?”I bit out.
“Take it however you like,”he said, “but it’s the truth.”
I studied him.He wasn’t trying to convince me. That made itworse.
I lifted my chin.“I’m supposed to trust the word of a fae High Lord?”
“Trust is earned,”his voice came low, taut, as though the sentence had teeth he’d filed down. “I have no illusions about that.”
Then he let out a weary sigh. “Keep the dagger, if it helps you sleep.”
“You’re only saying that because it’s useless, aren’t you? Fae can’t be killed.”
His face tightened, irritation slipping through his composure for the first time. His wings twitched, whether it was out of instinct or annoyance, I couldn’t tell.
“Maybe,”he said, “you shouldn’t believe every fairy tale you’ve ever heard.”
“The stories came from somewhere,”I shot back.
His nostrils flared, subtle but deadly. “Not every story is true, Isara. Surely you know that.”
“Some of them are.”Iheld his gaze, defiance burning low in my chest. “And I don’t hear you denying it.”
“Fair point.”His frowndisappeared, replaced by a wry and knowing look. “Though you could wait until breakfast, at least, before deciding to kill us all and make your grand escape.”
“And what if I decide not to wait?”
Hesighed, stepped back, and gestured toward the hallway. “Then by all means, proceed.” Witha wicked, deliberate smirk, he added, “But you’d be missing out on the best bread in all of Luceren.”
I hesitated. Hisabrupt shift in tone threw me off-balance.
“Go on, then,” he said, his tone half-amused, half-commanding. “Back to bed, little human.” His smirk deepened. “I’m sure the dagger will be enough to keep the nightmares away.”
I picked up the dagger, my fingers wrapping around the hilt as I cast him another wary glance. His eyes glinted in the light, daring me to flinch.
Without another word, I turned and strode down the hallway.
I slipped back into the room, the dagger in my hand, cautious not to wake my children. The encounter with Varyth left me unsettled, a prickle of suspicion and something else—something I couldn’t quite name—threading through my thoughts.
I settled back onto the bed beside Mireth and Eryx, but peace was a distant concept.
In the dim light, I twisted the dagger in my hand.
A hum curled through the air.
It was nothing. Just tension, exhaustion.
