Xeyvian nods. “For a time. Though Muri turned on them during the first war.”
“Faidra said that Muri was killed in the first war,” I say. It isn’t a question, but I’m pleased when Nurai explains further without making me dig for the answers I clearly seek.
“Muri was always close with the fea, and the others must have known that she would never agree to harm them. I believe they kept it from her as long as they could, and when she found out…” Nurai trails off, unable to speak the last of it aloud. “She came to me just before the war and told me of the conversation she had with the sprite at the market. Fea were disappearing, ancient stands of trees had begun to die, and none of the fea knew why. The sprite was sent by the fea to ask her for help and offer aid.”
“What aid?” I ask.
Nurai shrugs. “I wish I knew. Muri never told me, and then, she was gone.”
“And you never sought out the sprite so that you could ask?” I wonder incredulously.
Nurai raises a hand to her ribs, absently stroking where I can only assume the fea bargain is concealed beneath her gown.
“If there was anything she wanted me to know, she would have found me long ago,” she says. “I, on the other hand, have no doubt I could spenda feyn lifetime searching Terr for the sprite and never find her if it is her intention to remain hidden.”
I can’t argue with that. Even Tig and Eon can be difficult to find, and they seem to seek my company eagerly. Still, there is a question sliding off my tongue before I know I’m asking it. “What did you do to the fea to make them mistrust you?”
Riesh’s fork clatters against his porcelain plate when it slips from his hand, and the general tenses beside me.
Her face is far too calm when she answers, “Why would you assume it is anything thatIhave done to them? When the fea began to go missing and our world descended into war, they fled into the forest of Brax and have had very little to do with the feyn since that time.”
“But they seek sanctuary in A’kori?” I ask, wondering at the dichotomy of what she tells me.
“When they are desperate enough, yes.” She takes an elegant bite of food as if she hasn’t just proven my point.
The fea are willing to riskchai’brukar,the ship breaking seas off the Braxian shores, yet the sprite who bound Nurai has not sought her out. Why?
Nurai covers a yawn with her silk napkin, before using it to blot the side of her mouth.
“You must be tired,” Xeyvian says to her, his hand brushing against my thigh. “It was a long journey.”
“I am,” she replies with a smile, sliding her chair out from under the table and rising from her seat.
“It was lovely to meet you, Shivaria. I am sure we will have more time to talk again soon.” She dips her head the slightest bit, her eyes traveling the length of my form once more, before raising an eyebrow and turning to let herself out.
“You know,” Riesh says around a mouthful of meat as he points his fork at me, “the fea really have distanced themselves from the feyn since the first war. It isn’t just Nurai.”
I know that. I have seen it myself. Though I hadn’t exactly tried to hide my skepticism as the female wove her tale. Still, I find that I am mildlyannoyed when Riesh speaks up in her defense.
“You weren’t even born yet,” I say.
Everything he knows about that time he either read in the histories or was told by someone else. While I hate to admit that it’s a lesson I’m beginning to know well, unless he witnessed it himself, he should be open to questioning the validity of the story.
“True.” He stabs a piece of breaded fowl and pops it in his mouth. “But I believe what Xey tells me about that time.”
Because Xeyvian was alive then.
I don’t miss the unspoken meaning of his words, and why hadn’t I suspected as much? The malehadalready told me he’d known Siserie for two hundred years. How old is he? More questions, always more questions.
He seems pleased at the expression he’s put on my face when I slide my chair out, the general following suit as he thanks his friends for joining us. Riesh seems content to remain behind as we depart, apparently committed to a valiant attempt at devouring every morsel of food before bed. Awri doesn’t linger, flowing out of the room behind us, she heads toward her chambers, toward her mate.
I can hardly imagine what it might take to repair the rift between us, but it’s one more thing I may not have to consider after tomorrow. She may never speak to me again. Though I might harbor some regrets about that, I certainly won’t blame her for it.
It isn’t a long walk back to our rooms and I can’t help but wonder where Nurai is sleeping. Not that I can do anything with the knowledge. It’s just that I might prefer if it were on the other side of the palace, if not outside the grounds entirely.
I’m running my fingers through my hair, already dressed in a richly colored sleeping gown, when I eye Xeyvian through the mirror that sits across from our bed.
“How long is she staying?” I ask.
