Konstantin is served first. He doesn’t even sample the tort made of twenty-five alternating layers of pastry cream and flaky puff pastry topped with sugared rowan berries. I, on the other hand, devour it.
To this day, I strongly believe that people who aren’t endowed with a sweet-tooth are either too uptight or marginally boring. I glance at Lev’s plate, reassured when he spoons the flaky dessert into his mouth. A male after my own heart.
I lift my eyes to his temple to pilfer a thought.
Nothing.
My attention strays once more to the Glacin King. Is he free to love whoever he wants, or will he marry out of duty? His gray stare clangs against mine, its steely intensity like a whetted blade.
What angers you so, Konstantin Korol? This Jubilee? My curiosity?
He thrusts his chair back and stands in one fluid motion, inciting most Glacins to all but leap out of their seats. They nod or bow as he wishes the assembly a pleasant slumber in a tone that belies his kind regards. Evidently, the male doesn’t care how anyone sleeps.
As he marches away, my gaze latches on to my mother’s. Her mouth is drawn and her arms crossed at the elbows, fingers tapping away at her biceps. Is she about to call in the favor that Konstantin owes her? Is she worried that he’ll hurt me?
I ask her on the sleigh ride down to the palace, whispering my question into her ear so Naeva and Taytah, who share our sleigh, aren’t privy to it.
Mádhi tucks me into her side. “I’m your mother. I worry about any man who takes an interest in you.”
“I was talking about Konstantin, not Lev.”
She weaves her fingers through my long hair. “So was I.”
I’m so taken aback by her conclusion that it takes me almost a full minute to explain, “You mistake interest for wariness. I asked too many questions earlier.” Curiosity may not have killed any Crows yet, but there’s always a first time for everything. “When you do call in your bargain, make sure to add the clause that he cannot ask any friendly bloodcaster to turn me into a Forever-Crow.”
Her fingers stop fording through my unbound locks. “No Shabbin would dare.”
“It’s not a question of daring; it’s a question of bargaining.”
Although we course down the mountain at great speed, by the time we pull up in front of the palace, my lap is white with snow. I dust it off before the fabric of my dress can thaw it.
“If someone with blood magic owes him a favor,” I murmur, “they’d have no choice but to unmake my magic.”
My mother scowls as though angry at whoever would dare. “The Cauldron would remake you. But, yes, I’ll be sure to add that clause.”
Perhaps the Cauldron would remake me, but what if it remade me into something else? Or worse, what if it didn’t find me worthy of another whirl?
As Naeva and Taytah climb off the sleigh, Mádhi asks, “You didn’t imprint with anyone tonight, right?”
I smirk. “I’m surprised you think I wouldn’t have told you the second it happened.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t happen,laenath.” She sketches the frame of my face with her blistered thumb.
“I’m not. I get to go on hundreds more first dates.”
My comment finally lifts the caution and worry edging her expression. “Hundreds, huh? I can’t wait for your father to hear about that.”
We share a laugh as we finally disembark. “Where is he, by the way?”
She looks up at the sky. “Taking a digestive stroll through the heavens.” In other words, hunting for information.
“Do you think he’d kill her if he found her?” I whisper.
My mother tenses. Only her eyes move, veering left and right. Yes, there are guards, and, yes, they might be paying attention, but there are manyhersin this world, and my father’s lethality isn’t exactly a secret.
“In all honesty, Isla, that’s why I haven’t claimed my bargain yet. I worry what he might do.”
What she doesn’t add—but which I hear loud and clear—is that it might not be my name she’ll need to thread into the bargain, but my father’s.
