“It was an unfortunate run-in with a ship mast,” I say. “Entirely accidental. You know how distracted I can get when I fly.”
My mother suddenly gasps. “What happened to your face, Konstantin?”
“Slipped in his steam bath,” my father replies, barely separating his lips. “All these inanimate objects besting supernaturals today.”
My teeth sink into my lower lip just as Konstantin says, “My sister will come fetch me at any moment. If you want a private audience with me before dawn, it best be now.”
The Ice King is either the most intrepid male alive or the most oblivious. Who, in their right mind, would offer to lock themselves in an enclosed space with a seething royal capable of transforming many parts of himself into the single metal that can end a Faerie’s life?
“Actually, I need a word with you and Mádhi, Dádhi. A very urgent word.” To Konstantin, I say, “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Vizosh.”
The way Konstantin’s eyes scrape over my face tells me that meeting me was the furthest thing from pleasurable for him. And, yes, arguably, it wasn’t the best moment, but would it kill him to return the sentiment for conviviality’s sake?
“Congratulations on twenty-five years,” I add.
Konstantin’s cool-gray eyes glance against mine before skipping to his guards. “Fetch Salom.” And then he’s pivoting on his heel and disappearing inside his quarters.
Not even a,Thank you, Isla,or a,Welcome to Glace. Enjoy the amenities!Did I imagine his earlier garrulousness?
My mother hooks her arm through mine and sweeps me down the blue runner, my father hot on our heels.
Once we’ve left the knot of guards and sprites behind, she murmurs, “A mast? Really,laenath?”
Between the ages of six and fourteen, every time my mother would refer to me asbaby, I’d beg her to find another term of endearment, but now, I don’t perceive it as a reminder of my youth; only as a reminder of her maternal affection.
“You know how clumsy I can be.” I eye the vaulted hallway that’s so white it makes me feel as though I’m traveling through some creature’s rib cage.
“You’re many things, but clumsy isn’t one of them.” She covers my hand with hers. “Can we get the real story now?”
Even though I may tell them the truth eventually, I choose to counter their question with a question of my own. “Right after you tell me the real story behind Shoshair’s abrupt illness.”
My mother’s pink eyes flare, while my father’s yellow ones taper. When their gazes lock and hold, I fathom they’re carrying a little aside. How I wish I could be a fly on the wall of their minds.
To think I’m about to get a connection of my own tonight… Unless they bolt me in their suite with magic?
Their grave miens suggest they just might. “How horrid is my mate?”
“Your…what?” Mádhi squawks.
“My fated mate.”
My mother blinks so fast I half expect her to generate a breeze. “Mate?”
I stick my thumb out in my father’s direction, then point to her. “You know…that thing the two of you are to each other.” My humor is lost on my mother, whose complexion has gone from sun-kissed to sun-bleached.
“What your mother is trying to say,khráach”—oh, the inflection he puts on his favored term of endearment for me:darling—“…is: What. Fucking. Mate?”
I come to a standstill. “The one I meet here tonight.”
Between gnashed teeth, he asks, “Do tell us who fed you this…lie?”
5
ISLA
The wordliehasn’t stopped echoing inside my skull since my father asked the question long minutes ago.
A question I’ve yet to answer, too shocked to form the syllables of Behati’s name. If Taytah’s advisor lied to get me to travel to Glace, what about her promise to watch over Shoshair?
