From Arran’s descriptions of her kidnapping, the brutality that had followed and the quiet life she’d sought away from the terrestrial court at Wolf Bay, I’d expected someone demure and retiring. Neither of those words sprung to mind as I used the brief seconds to study the female approaching me across the narrow stone bridge.
Ihad been tortured for years. And I doubteddemureorretiringhad passed a single set of lips—fae, human, or faerie—in reference to me.
A foolish mistake, to assume anything at all.
I had to be better at this. Arran wasn’t here to be the strategic one.
My fault.
I am made of ice. I am impenetrable. I am immovable.
I repeated the chant. Thrice more, hoping it would give me the strength to face the formidable female approaching me. The mother of the male I loved—the mother of the male I’d nearly slaughtered.
Ice. Ice. Ice.
I was so busy willing shards of ice into my veins, around my heart, that I almost did not notice the terrestrial male who walked at her side. It was the blooming roses that alerted me. Bright, shining white roses on thick emerald vines, crawling along the stone ledges on either side of the bridge in perfect time with the approaching steps of the delegation.
Where her face was elegant and composed, his smile was easy and wide. His golden-brown hair, long enough to be boyish, caught the same light as the metallic band on his wife’s forehead. He seemed like an accessory himself.
We stopped. So did they. Mere steps separating us. My heartbeat sped up, pounding against that wall of ice, trying to get out. Trying to get home.
We were dirty, tired, worn out from months of traveling and weeks of frustration. Our ranks were depleted, and we looked little better than the prisoners we brought with us.
But none of that mattered as the Lady of Eilean Gayl sank to her knees, followed by every single one of the eighteen terrestrials who had followed her out to greet us.
I exhaled.
I counted my heartbeats.One, two, three, four, five…The silence stretched out. A wing brushed against my shoulder, the gentlest of reminders.
They were waiting for me.
I choked back the hysterical laugh that bubbled up in my throat.Be the queen you were meant to be.
Oh, Arran.
“Rise, Lady Elayne and Lord Pant.” I knew their names now. Arran had whispered their history to me while he held me in our bedroll, sketching out the broad lines of life in Eilean Gayl and his childhood. He’d been happy here—the happiest he’d ever been… until he met me?
Until I threw Excalibur and nearly killed him.
“We are honored and pleased to welcome you to Eilean Gayl, Your Majesty,” Elayne said, rising gracefully without reaching for a hand for assistance. At nearly seven hundred years old, she ought to be showing the first signs of aging. But there was no gray in her dark hair, no wrinkles around her eyes. She appeared only a few years older than me. Except for the eyes—those dark, fathomless eyes spoke of centuries.
I affected an easy half-smile that was not easy at all. An imperious lift of my chin. Hand on my jeweled scabbard—the only sign of opulence on me. How ironic, that my first diplomatic foray into the terrestrial kingdom and I was robed in grime rather than jewels.
“As you can see, we have come to you after a long journey.” It was the only acknowledgment I would give to the sorry state of our appearance. I was a queen. And despite the careful attention I’d always paid to my appearance, I did not need clothing to show it.
“Then you must be famished,” Pant said, his grin wide and genuine. At least, in my initial estimation. I did not know him well enough to truly judge.
But terrestrials were not known for their ability dissemble.
I inclined my head, though my eyes stayed on the female at his side. “Indeed.”
“Arran is not with you.” Elayne did not disguise the surprise in her voice.
My throat closed. Panic, hot and fierce, that would melt my icy exterior in a second.
“The High King was detained,” Lyrena said, her bright smile nowhere in evidence. Even without polish, she shone with the light and confidence of pure gold. She was every inch the courtier her parents had hoped she would be, the Goldstone Guard she’d trained to become, one hand on her mighty sword. My Golden Knight.
“It seems unlikely that he would allow his mate from his side, so soon after your Joining,” Elayne said sharply, eyes cutting to me rather than Lyrena.
