“The princesses are missing and so are the men you left to ‘guard’ them,” Atrialan shot back in a fearsome voice. “I’d say my reasoning isfarkingsound.”
“Synan and his men were my strongest and most trusted warriors!” Dilys snarled. “If they are missing, it’s because whoever took theMyerialannaskilled my men and disposed of the bodies. There’s no other possible explanation. Do you forget my men and I fought a god for the right to court the Seasons? What possible motive would we have for kidnapping the woman I plan to marry and her sisters?” Outrage, fury, and, yes, fear battered him, tearing away even the pretense of calm. Outrage that the Winter King would suspect a prince of Calberna of such perfidy. Fury that someone—anyone—dared kidnap his futurelianaand her sisters. And fear—icy, soul-consuming fear—at the thought of what the Seasons’ abductors might do to them. Do to Gabriella.
If anyone touched his little honeyrose...
If they dared to hurt her...
Black, diamond-hard talons shot from his fingertips, ready to rend.
“What motive?” Wynter shot back. “I can think of several. Perhaps your courtship wasn’t going as well as expected. Perhaps you decided the assurance of having three powerful weather witches in your control was more appealing than the possibility of winning one. Perhaps you decided you didn’t like the bargain you struck last winter with my queen, so you broke it. You’ve certainly done that before.”
Snow flurries swirled in the Winter King’s eyes, and a distinct chill emanated from him. Uncowed, Dilys bared his teeth in a fierce snarl.
“I have only broken one contract in my life—and not without cause. As you well know. Or are you telling me now I should have left your queen to face the Ice King and his minions alone?”
Furious as he was, even Wynter of the Craig had to back down from that one. He did, but not gracefully. With a sharp oath and clenched fists, he turned away.
“If you didn’t do this, then who did?”
“Release me, and I assure you I will find out.”
Wynter merely curled his lip and said, “They came by sea, using fog to mask their movements. I’ve been down to the fjord. The air stinks of magic. Manipulating fog on the water is a seagift, is it not?”
Fog on the water was just an extension of the sea, water droplets suspended in the air. Calbernans could not affect the weather like the weathermages of Wintercraig and Summerlea, but manipulating fog... that, they could do.
“Tey,we can, but so can many others. In fact, if you cross the right palm with silver, you can buy such a spell on the black market.” His chin lifted. He stared at Wynter of the Craig with unflinching eyes. “I am telling you, I did not do this thing. My men did not do this thing. But if thesekrilloswho took theMyerialannascame by sea, then I am your best hope to hunt them down.”
Wynter’s lip curled again. “If you think for one second that I’d trust you to go after my wife’s sisters, you are dreaming.”
Dilys’s temper flared. He subdued it with ruthless control. Fury would get him nowhere. Gabriella must come first.
He swept a hot, molten gaze over the cold, distrustful Wintermen lined up against him. Prideful, stubborn, suspicious idiots. They thought they could track a ship across open ocean. They would be wrong—especially if the ship in question belonged to the Shark. Without Dilys, without his men, Gabriella and her sisters were as good as lost. Before the Wintermen could do more than grab their weapons, he turned to their queen and dropped to his knee before her.
“I swear to you, Khamsin of the Storms,Myerialof Wintercraig and Summerlea, I swear to you on my life and the lives of my men and on the blood ofMyerialAlysaldria I, my great and glorious mother, I swear to you I will find your sisters and bring them home or die trying. I swear it.” He bowed his head, baring his neck to her in a sign of complete submission and vulnerability. “Give me my men and my ships, and let me hunt. Grant me this right, this honor. Lay your hands upon me and grant me the great gift of your trust. I will not betray you.”
For one long, interminable minute, he thought she would refuse. His thoughts whirled. If she refused, what would he do? The Seasons—Gabriella—were out there, captured by gods only knew what manner of foul, corrupt soul. Dilys wanted to hunt with Khamsin’s blessing in order to keep the peace between Wintercraig and Calberna, but if they tried to hold him—to stop him...
Someone—the Shark or some other rabidkrilloof a pirate—had stolen Summer Coruscate. That someone—the vile coward!—had crept into her room, laid his foul hands upon her. Frightened her. That someone had stolen her from the safety of her home and her family and the Calbernan prince who had, in every way that mattered, already pledged his life and his heart to her.
That someone—and every living soul who had aided him—was going to die.
As would anyone who stood between Dilys Merimydion and hisliana.
Khamsin had still not given him her answer.
He clung to his rage, using every ounce of the discipline he’d honed over a lifetime to keep it caged. But, gods, oh gods, it wanted free. It howled for release. Clamored for destruction.
It would be so easy. The sea was one of the most primal forces of the planet, and it would leap to Dilys’s command. The sea would surround this city and swallow it whole—taking every living creature in the Llaskroner Fjord with it.
Only the certainty that Gabriella would never forgive him gave him the strength to keep that desire in check.
Gabriella...moa myerina... moa liana... I will come for you. Whether they allow it or not, I will come for you.
It would be better for all if they allowed it.
So he shed his pride like the useless skin it was and said, “Please,MyerialKhamsin.” His voice shook, a testament to the power raging beneath his thin veneer of calm. “Send me with your blessing. Trust me to bring them back. I beg you.” His claws dug into the stone floor.
At last, Khamsin gave him her reply. “Bring them back to me,” she said, her voice low and thick. “Bring my sisters home.”
