Skadi rolled over me and propped her chin onto the tops of her hands. “When I was brought to this palace as a girl, I could only read a few words. I would want to help with all their needs, but find tutors, perhaps. Possibly books for them, apprenticeships as they grew, so they could learn a skill. Think it’s too ambitious?”
I brushed the hair off her brow. “No, Fire. I think you can do whatever you set out to do. Your voice matters to us—to me—I look forward to hearing more of it.”
“You are continually unexpected, Jonas Eriksson.”
“Good. I hope you never grow tired of me being the same each day.” I kissed her sweetly, but sobered. “Do you remember your mother and father at all?”
“Yes.” Her jaw pulsed. “They died when I was six turns, but I remember their faces. My mother had pale hair, more golden than mine, and sea blue eyes. My father always carried me on his shoulders, insisting I could touch the stars if I reached high enough.”
“Do you mind me asking how they died?”
Skadi’s face fell. “They were simply dead one morning. We were treetop folk—the elven who live out in the wood, so I knew well enough how to trust the trees of Natthaven. I kept to the wood until King Eldirard found me two turns later using my mists to scavenge some food.”
She cracked a few knuckles. Talk of her fallen parents bothered her.
I pressed a kiss to the slope of her neck. “I am sorry you lost them. It sounds like they loved you a great deal.”
“I like to think they would’ve loved you.”
“Of course they would’ve,” I said. “What isn’t there to love?”
“Who knows? Easiest thing I’ve ever done.” Skadi laughed and kissed me.
I kept an easy expression, but my blood rushed to my head. I didn’t think she realized what she said, but it struck me, a bolt through the chest with a truth I still didn’t know how to explain: I was in love with my wife, and I had a bit of hope she felt the same.
Chapter 38
The Mist Thief
“He seemsto be an amiable fae, My Lady.” One of the maids of the palace grinned and finished adding a silver chain to my braided hair.
“He is.” I peered out the bubbled glass window where Jonas was laughing with the stablemaster as he arranged supplies onto two charges. Dorsan was there preparing a handful of palace guards who would accompany us to the Night Market and Stärnskott. I looked back at the woman. “Although, he’ll tell you he isn’t a fae, he’s an alver. Their magic impacts the body and mind.”
She dipped her chin, grin still in place. “If you don’t mind me saying, you seem . . . peaceful around the prince.”
Peaceful. Another way for her to insinuate happiness without being too bold to assume.
I dabbed my lips in a touch of pink stain, a smile in the corner of my mouth. “I am. I’m fortunate to have such a match when so many arrangements prove to be unhappy.”
Before my vows, I rarely spoke to any chambermaids. It was not out of my desire they kept quiet, but most dared not cross Cara or they feared me.
One day here and already Jonas’s easy interactions with me had stirred the elven palace. When we were caught laughing or snickering inwhispers to each other, odd looks came at first, but little by little trepidation cracked.
More servants added a smile when they greeted me, some looked at me with a new curiosity. Others, like this woman, even engaged in conversation.
“He’s not terrible to look at if you don’t mind me saying either, My Lady.” Her eyes gleamed in a laugh.
I bit down on my lower lip. “No, he’s not.”
“That’s enough, Madeline.” Cara clapped her hands. “I will finish with the princess.”
Madeline’s face paled, but Cara’s word was fiercer than mine, and she dipped her chin, practically fleeing the room.
Cara took up a thin cloak and hastily added it to my shoulders, face pinched.
“Something to say, Cara?” I tilted my head. “What have I done to be disappointing now?”
“That, for one.” She huffed and placed her hands on her hips. “Speaking like you’ve no manners at all. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, My Lady.”
