The door opened behind him, and High Advisor Adwarin stepped into the room, followed by cloaked figures. Lieges—the king’s minions who, for now, would sacrifice themselves to protect him.
And one person I hadn’t seen for a very long time, my Uncle Camus, the king’s half-brother and Farnoll’s father, though the two men hadn’t spoken for years so he might not realize Farnoll was missing. He sauntered over to whisper something to Ivenrail, though his gaze remained on me.
This man had “trained” me, which meant he tortured a small boy to the point he nearly broke. He’d scarred my flesh and tossed me around, laughing at the bruises my skin would show the next day. Tall and very thin, he didn’t resemble Ivenrail a bit, but they had the same father. Despite Ivenrail once questioning his parentage, their father had made sure those he claimed were his own. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t have survived their childhood.
After giving me a slick smile, Uncle Camus left the room.
I turned my attention to High Advisor Adwarin.
Nearly as tall as me, the high advisor was heavier, though not with muscle. He felt no need to practice battle techniques when he could easily control those around him with power. The threads of silver at his temple were the only clue to his age. He’d found a way to keep his face unlined and smooth. Did he use magic, or did he tap the same source as Ivenrail? He’d be unwise to do the latter if he wanted to live long enough for the rest of his hair to turn gray.
The hood of his dark robe peppered with stars hung downhis back, and the hem brushed across his shoes as he moved toward the king. When he reached Ivenrail, he stopped. Only a subtle twitch of his hand as he smoothed his short, dark hair betrayed his unease at seeing me with the king.
With a grunt and a drummed-up sneer, the high advisor’s sharp gaze traveled down my frame, darting to my face again as if he thought my expression might give something away.
It never had and it never would.
“I didn’t realize you were back yet, Vexxion,” he said, his bland tone dispelled by the hatred brimming in his eyes.
He’d never liked me, but why such unbridled anger now? Ah yes. I suspected why his mood may have changed.
“I recently arrived,” I said.
“Selitta isnotwith you.”
And there it was.
“Why would your daughter be with me?” If there was ever a time to show nothing, it was now. I wasn’t concerned about making another enemy at Bledmire Court, but I had no interest in directing his rage at Tempest.
“She didn’t come home after the Claiming,” he bit out.
“Perhaps she was detained?”
The king sighed.
“Don’t fool with me, Beast,” the high advisor growled.
Ivenrail’s lips twitched as he fought for a smile. He didn’t like it when I challenged him, but he savored watching me play games with others.
“I’m not the fool in this conversation,” I said.
High Advisor Adwarin snarled and stomped toward me, his arms lifting. “Where is she?”
A flick of my finger, and he froze. “Youdo not questionme.”
He gasped, tasting the same spell his daughter had used on my fury. Did he enjoy being unable to breathe? I’d been gone from the court for too long if he’d forgotten that he was not the one with the most power here.
The king’s lips curled up as he watched. He enjoyed watching his controller in action.
I glided forward, advancing on him. “Seek elsewhere for your daughter.”
The cloaked Lieges behind him parted, making way for someone dressed in a blood red gown. She stopped beside the high advisor, laying her hand on his arm. A flick of her finger, and he could breathe once more—though I doubted she realized I’d allowed her spell to take effect.
Ivenrail was the only fae I could not yet overrule with magic. If I could do so, he would no longer be a problem, and Tempest and I would now be living in peace at Weldsbane Court.
The scowl the woman sent my way would’ve scorched my flesh, but, as always, I did not allow this. “Perhaps you’d be willing to share withmewhy my sister was last seen in the woods near the Claiming with you and your Nullen?”
The high advisor had—used to have—two daughters.
