The Frost King swung down from his mount.
“This is where we leave you,” he said stiffly, his face a mask of indifference.
Her mouth popped open when he pulled a sheathed dagger from his hip and attached it to the wide silver belt at her waist.
“It is tipped in poison,” he muttered. “You only have to scratch your opponent, and the paralytic substance will take effect in seconds. If things are not to your satisfaction with yourfather, you leave.” He tightened the pauldron strap that crossed her chest. “You come home to yourreillov.”
“I will.”
He inhaled, and his nostrils flared, scenting the lie. She had no illusions about what the end of today would look like for her. She planned on causing as much havoc in the Asteran camp as possible. If she did not return, the Loriians would attack. She’d give them the best chance of winning.
But maybe with a little luck, she’d succeed.
But she’d never been lucky.
He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Do not make me hunt you,niliave. Because I will. Mates stick together. Nothing will separate useveragain.”
Except death and her own secrets.
He pulled back and lifted her onto his own war horse. She slipped into the saddle, frowning at the king. “Alastor is your war horse.”
Neve shrugged. “He is the best mount we have.”
Dahlia glanced at the sky, catching a glimpse of theastrylle.“I won’t be alone. Serenity will be with me.”
“He will keep you safe. You will take him.” The Frost King brooked no argument.
Lia blushed and adjusted the heavy onyx crown on her brow. It was a statement piece for the Asterans. She looked like a Loriian queen, not just the Asteran princess. She touched themizarethpendant at her throat and steeled herself for what was to come.
Neve shortened the stirrups so she could slip her feet into them. He placed a warm hand on her calf, staring up at her for once.
“Be safe,jaivelle.”
Dahlia nodded, not trusting her voice after he used the soft endearment. She nudged the beast with her heels. Alastor setoff. She tried not to look at the bodies as she crossed the void between the two armies. Her heart pounded in her ears the closer she drew to the humans. She scanned the line of Asteran soldiers, picking out the mercenaries but not finding Randa among them.
Anger lit in her chest. The bloody human sovereign hadn’t even deigned to show up.
Because he knows what you are. You are nothing in his eyes.
She pulled on the reins, and the war horse pranced to the side. “Where is my father?” she demanded.
A grizzled soldier bowed from the seat of his mount. “His Majesty awaits you in the camp, my lady.”
“My queen,” she corrected, tone sharp.Don’t let them push you around.
“My queen,” he repeated, his face turning slightly red. “My apologies.”
“Do not trouble yourself over it. I’m sure it is a shock to find your princess alive and well,” she replied smoothly.
One of the Fierran mercenaries snickered. She glanced at the man, who was bundled up, only his burnished face, slightly pointed ears, and red hair visible. Fierrans weren’t quite as large as frost giants, but they were still larger than humans.
He quirked a smile around the small tusks that protruded out of his mouth, his gaze glinting with suppressed humor. “Lae reilleve.”
So, he knew a bit of Loriian. “Fierros,” she murmured back. The title for a highborn Fierran. His tusks were a dead giveaway of his heritage. What was a lord of Fierre doing in Randa’s camp? That was a breach of the treaty with Loriia, no doubt.
“Your father awaits,” the grizzled soldier said.
“By all means, lead the way.”
