A sharp knock at the door made me jump, but before I could react, the royal guard was on his feet with his sword drawn.
“Oh, for goodness sake.” Sorsha rolled her eyes. “It’s only Gertrude.”
Adriel’s shoulders relaxed, but he didn’t sheathe his blade as Sorsha pushed him aside and opened the door.
A diminutive female dressed in a wool smock was standing on the doorstep clutching a small wooden box. Snow-white hair hung in long ropes over her shoulders,with beads woven into the braids. Her eyes were a vivid arctic blue — ancient-looking in a way that made me feel as if they could see right through a person.
At last, the royal guard stowed his weapon.
Though the top of her head barely reached Adriel’s sternum, the old fae met his gaze with a fierce expression that said she had stared down more formidable opponents.
“Is he here?” she whispered.
“He is,” said Sorsha.
The female’s eyes widened at the sight of the princess, and she shoved the box into Adriel’s chest before throwing her arms around her.
“Good gods, Highness! I never thought I’d see the day!”
Sorsha made a strangled note of surprise, though she seemed pleased by the old faerie’s reaction. “It’s good to see you too, Gertie.”
Gertrude pulled back, squeezing Sorsha’s arms for good measure as she looked her up and down. “As radiant as ever, Highness. And you —” She jerked her head around to look at Adriel, tutting at whatever she saw. “A tall and silent string bean. Don’t they feed you in that godsforsaken place?”
Adriel coughed, though it sounded as if he were choking on a laugh.
“And who is this?” Gertrude demanded, those icy blue eyes widening as they landed on me.
It was then that I realized I still bore marks from the demon female’s talons. The wounds had already begun to heal, but dried blood coated my face.
“Lyra,” I said, trying to smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You are not fae!” she exclaimed, narrowing her gaze as she studied me with renewed scrutiny.
“No,” I said, staring at my boots. Clearly, Adriel and Sorsha knew the faerie, but I wasn’t sure how much I should tell her.
“Lyra’s with us,” Sorsha said in a tone that seemed to put an end to any further inquiries.
“But where is the prince?”
“He’s . . . resting,” Sorsha muttered, glancing toward the ceiling.
“Gertrude?”
The voice from above was low and urgent, and I whipped around to see Kaden standing on the narrow landing.
“Your Highness.” Gertrude’s eyes crinkled with warmth, but her smile faltered at the sight of him.
“Could I speak with you a moment?” Kaden’s gaze flitted over me. “Alone.”
The old faerie looked startled by the request, but she merely nodded and started up the stairs. Adriel’s brows furrowed as he stared at the prince, though he didn’t say a word.
My chest squeezed as Kaden turned back toward the ladder. Who was this female, and why would he speak to her and not me?
Sorsha, for one, seemed unconcerned. Prying the box out of Adriel’s grip, she set it on the counter and began pulling out provisions –– steaming meat pies, oat cakes, cheese, and bread. The succulent smell of game and herbs reached my nostrils, but I had no appetite.
Sinking down into a chair, I couldn’t stop myself from glancing up the staircase every few minutes. Adriel hadn’t moved toward the table. He just stood at the foot of the steps, waiting.
Finally, the old female emerged, her face grim as she descended the stairs. The empty feeling inside me seemed to yawn wider when Kaden didn’t appear.
