“Oh, I have a few ideas.” Malin returned the vase to the table and looked back at me. “You certainly left an impact. Sander and Kase had to chase off Balki again this morning. After his head cleared, he still felt rather entitled to the elven princess.”
“All gods.”
“Seemed to think you were unhappy with us here and wanted to take you for himself. I think Sander did well enough shifting his memory of it into something terrifying, but if you’d like I could take the memory altogether.”
A memory thief. Part of me didn’t think it was possible to have such an affinity. The potential to be cruel with such magic didn’t fit the playful gleam in the queen’s strange golden green eyes.
“No, thank you.” I dipped my chin. “This was brought by my choices, so I must live with the consequences.”
The whole of this conversation was puzzling. The only thing that seemed to be disappointing to Queen Malin was she wasn’t present during the chaos.
“We received a missive from King Eldirard last night.” The queen’s grin faded. “He insisted your clan will investigate if the light elven prince had anything to do with the assassin. He also provided a few herbs that should aid Niklas in battling the spread of poison for Teo and Nettie.”
Relief was sharp enough it robbed my breath. “Thank the gods.”
“Well, thank them if you must, but I’m rather perturbed they let it happen to begin with,” Malin said in a huff. “Teodor and Annetta didn’t deserve what happened.”
“They didn’t,” I said, voice small. “I hate that it was done to get to me.”
The queen waved her hand, as though dismissing the notion. “It was a wretched distraction to plant the poison in our cooking rooms, but the only thing that angers me about that sod is I couldn’t kill him myself. It is not on you.” Malin rolled a silver ring with four runes etched into the surface around her center finger. “Eldirard was gracious with the herbs, but believes since this alliance is historical, there is likely to be naysayers.”
“He did not offer more protections for the palace? I thought . . . well, I imagined he would offer a stronger show of support.”
“The king spoke a great deal about our mesmer, and seemed to believe it was formidable against elven powers, then insisted you were protection enough.”
I tangled my fingers in the quilts, a barb of hurt in my chest. To even offer Dokkalfar support would be an act of good faith in the alliance. My grandfather seemed to consider the act something expected, an act that could have killed Jonas, his family.
He did not react in the way I thought an ally should, and it would likely not give my new clan much confidence in our people. “I am sorry for the troubles all this has brought to your house.”
“Well, that is the final apology I’ll hear.” Malin rose and brushed her hand over a dark pair of trousers. “It is not you who brings troubles, and I hope you have not taken offense to us keeping a distance from you. We wanted to give you time with all this.” She waved her hands about. “I know it is jarring, but if you’re ready, I hope you will start moving about the palace, meeting some more folk.”
“I saw much of the town yesterday.”
“That is a start. But here, I believe you hide away in these rooms. We don’t bite.” The queen offered a playful smirk. “Well, I cannot promise anything with Raum around.”
A soft chuckle rolled from my chest.
“Many of us spar once a week,” Malin told me. “You know, to let out some unused mesmer and aggression. We have plans to do so today after mid-meal. I hope you’ll join us.” She moved toward the doorway, but paused, pointing to the tin. “Drink it all. I promise it helps.”
Perhaps I could still blame the brän in my brain, for the next question came before I could stop it. “Queen Malin, why are you being kind to me?”
“Do you not trust it?”
“I feel you are sincere.” Suspicious as I was, the conversation with the queen felt . . . light when it ought to have been riddled in disappointment. “But that is what has me surprised.”
“You are my son’s wife. You are part of our house now, would you like me to be cruel?”
“No.” I drummed my fingers alongside the tin mug. “But after all I have done?—”
“What have you done?” Malin narrowed her eyes. “Yes, you fought against my sons and the sea fae whose queen I see as a daughter. But allthat pales next to what else I know about you—a woman who protected her only family in a battle, a woman who saved mine from an attack we did not see.”
Silence gathered like a storm, hot and sticky, the sort that left residue on the skin. Malin returned to the bed and sat on the edge.
“You think I should hate you for what happened with Sander. My son nearly died.” Her voice was small, pain was there. “It is a truth no mother should ever face. We have lost many in our life, but I cannot lose my men—my trio, I call them.” The queen smiled. “I was furious when I found out. I wanted war, and I hate war.”
“What has changed?”
“Sander showed me that day.” The queen tapped the side of her head.
