“I never imagined you could admit to being vulnerable.”
“I never imagined you could kiss the way you did.”
My heart races at his words. The truth is, I never imagined I could kiss like that either. Honestly, I think he did most of the kissing. I just opened to it, followed his lead. Moved the way he moved, breathed the way he breathed—I shake my head, squeezing my thighs together.
“Stop trying to change the subject. I need you to explain some things. First of all, why didn’t you tell me my sister was alive? You let me believe she was dead.”
His expression darkens, looking from his guards to the other end of the balcony. “Keep your voice down.”
“Then answer the question.”
He lets out an irritated grumble. “I never planned on lying to you, but you seemed so convinced the body you saw was hers. I figured it might be safer that way, for everyone involved. At least until I discovered the truth.”
“How in the bloody name of iron did you figure that was safer?”
“I don’t know who’s behind this,” he says, rubbing his brow. “If the person responsible thinks we assume your sister is dead, they won’t expect us to be looking for her.”
“Does that mean youarelooking for her?”
He nods. “Not that it’s doing any good. There are no trails. No clues. Every day I await the ransom note, the bargain. Every day nothing comes of it. I hate dealing with assassins I can’t see. They should at least have the decency to face me head on.”
“Who would hold Amelie against you like that?”
“It could be anyone. Any of the unseelie who want war. Any of the humans who want the same. Any of the seelie council fae who’d prefer to see my brother on the throne. The hosting court of the Chosen is always at risk during the month following a Reaping. What I do or don’t do with you could turn the tide. If I treat you badly, refuse a marriage alliance, halt compensation to your mother, any of that could forfeit the treaty. It makes me a target from all sides.”
My heart does a flip at the mention of my mother. “How are you compensating her, anyway? I imagine it isn’t with farm animals.”
“She refused all talk of compensation. There was no bargain Foxglove could tempt her with. So I purchased her apothecary and put it under her name, in addition to leaving a heavy fund to maintain it. She will never have to worry about rent or repair. Even if she refuses to spend a coin from the fund, it will be done on her behalf.”
A lump rises in my throat. My mother. She’s being taken care of. Her life’s passion—the apothecary—is secured. Was that Aspen’s doing? Foxglove’s? The council? I can’t bring myself to ask.
“Regardless,” Aspen says, interrupting my thoughts, “even before the Reaping, I tended to attract the disdain of seelie and unseelie alike. I have many potential enemies. Many who would like to see me lose my throne.”
I remember what Cobalt had said about Aspen. How he constantly shifts sides. “Why do you do it?” I ask. “Why do you attract the rage of the council? If you just chose a side and stuck with it, they wouldn’t resent you the way they do.”
He lets out a cold laugh. “No, I’m sure you’re right, but that’s not something I’m willing to do.”
“Why? You talk about maintaining the safety of the isle. Isn’t that more important than childish games?”
“What I do isn’t a game,” he says, meeting my eyes with his steely gaze. “What I do creates balance. A balance that—if upended—could create chaos for my people.”
“I don’t understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
I lean toward him. “Then tell me. I need to know what’s going on.”
He lets out a heavy sigh. “There’s something you should understand. The seelie, the unseelie, it isn’t a matter of good or bad. The seelie want the experiences the humans opened for them. To love. To feel. To hate. The power of choice and consequence. Luxury. Lack. Poverty. They want all of it. The unseelie want the old ways. They want solitude. Connection to nature. Instinct.”
“That makes sense,” I say.
“Since the war ended, we’ve maintained balance. The seelie live how they want to live, and the unseelie follow their own ways. There is give and take. Each court and ruler and citizen has the right to choose. For most of us, it’s enough, but for others…”
I lean closer, entranced by his candid words, his serious tone. He’s never spoken this way before, not even when he was recovering from his wound. “Go on.”
“Some of the seelie see the unseelie as barbaric. Lesser. Vile, dangerous creatures that shouldn’t be allowed the level of freedom they get. You’ve met the kelpie. Would you say he should be allowed to torment stray travelers the way he does?”
I shake my head, the memory of nearly drowning still fresh in my mind.
