Aspen’s footsteps approach from behind, and I feel him place a comforting hand on my lower back.
She looks from me to my mate and back again. Finally, she withdraws an envelope from her pants pocket. “My uncle sent me a letter,” she says, a guilty look passing over her face.
I take the envelope, unsure why she’s handing it to me. “Your uncle knows you’re here?”
She lifts her chin in defiance, although the guilt remains in her eyes. “I wrote to him so he can tell my parents I’m safe. I may not have wanted to go back to them, but I didn’t want them to worry either.”
I bite back my argument. I’d already warned Marie it isn’t safe for humans in Faerwyvae when we’re at war. Informing her relatives of her whereabouts could create major complications I don’t have time for. Especially when her uncle is the Mayor of Sableton. Someone not entirely fond of me, at that.
I turn the envelope over in my hands. The seal has already been broken. “How did you even get a letter to or from him?”
She wrings her hands again. “I may have used an ambassador’s seal. I was with Lorelei when she found the one belonging to the former Fire Court ambassador. Once I had my letter, I sent Dune with it. I didn’t expect him to bring one back.”
“Dune took a letter to Sableton?” My voice comes out sharper than I intend. How did this happen without me knowing? The answer comes to me at once. I’ve paid very little attention to much of anything this past week, focusing only on my dread. With a sigh, I soften my tone. “That was reckless, Marie. Dune could have been in danger going to Sableton like that. There’s no telling if the humans will even honor an ambassador’s seal right now, especially one bore by an unseelie.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“So, what did your uncle say? Is he demanding your return home?”
She shakes her head. “The letter he sent back isn’t about me at all. He wants to meet with you.”
“About what?” Aspen asks, stepping closer.
“He says he has information regarding the safety of the isle.”
I exchange a glance with Aspen. His expression is equal parts suspicious and intrigued. I lower my voice to a whisper. “Do you think he knows about…”
Aspen shrugs. “Can you trust him?”
I recall my last interaction with Mayor Coleman at Mother’s trial. While he may not have shown the same cruelty as Mr. Duveau, he did make it quite clear he was against me in every way. My pulse races as I pull the letter from the envelope. Aspen leans forward and we read the letter together.
It contains very little more than what Marie has already said. Mayor Coleman claims to have vital information pertinent to the safety of the Fair Isle and requests an urgent meeting with me to discuss it. The only other statement the letter contains is a promise that he offers this conversation in peace, even going so far to use fae verbiage of apeaceful exchange of words.
I return my gaze to Aspen, who runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he says. “This could be a trap.”
He’s right, but I don’t think I can pass this opportunity up. If there’s even the slightest possibility Mayor Coleman knows anything about the Parvanovae, I have to take the chance. “This could give us the ability to prepare. To fight.”
He stares at the letter in my hand as if he could decipher the mayor’s intents between the inked words. Finally, his expression softens, gaze meeting mine. “I already know you’re going to go, so I’ll go too.”
“He might not speak with me if you’re there.”
“If he’s desperate enough to reach out to you, he will. And if it’s indeed a trap…I can protect you.”
There’s no use telling him I don’t need protection. If Mayor Coleman hides some devious plan, I might need all the protection I can get.
I return to face Marie, who eyes us warily. She seems unsurprised by our whispered conversation, although she can’t be fully aware of all that Aspen and I know, either. We’ve only made public to our people the news that we won the war against the Renounced but still face an even greater threat from the humans. One we might not be able to win. “What do you think, Marie? Can we trust your uncle?”
She shrugs. “I can’t say for certain. I know he resented you becoming King Aspen’s Chosen instead of my sister and me after the Holstrom girls died. And yet I think you might be right about his desperation. He seems worried about something.” Her eyes unfocus as she goes silent for a moment. Then excitement crosses her face. “I know! Bring me. Use me as a hostage in case he tries anything.”
“Marie, no—”
“He’ll make no move against you if I’m there.”
I cross my arms, giving her a pointed look. “Somehow I doubt he values you quite as much as you suggest. If he was eager to ship you off to Faerwyvae, I can’t imagine you’d make a great hostage.”
“You don’t understand,” she says. “He’s always been fond of me. He may not love the fae, but he considers the marriages forged from the Hundred Year Reaping to be a great honor for human families. Promoting and protecting his family is all my uncle cares about.”
“That still doesn’t make you a good hostage,” I say. “Besides, I think that goes against a peaceful exchange of words.”
