I interrupt her with, “How is Lothar?”
The healer, Ulla, shakes her head. “He is sleeping. Iryth is tending to the worst of his wounds.”
My ears almost prick up at that as I look at Svanna, Iryth’s mate. They have a small baby together. “And Sama?”
Svanna’s lips quirk up at the corner, clearly grateful for something lighter to speak of. “I’m sure she left him with Lyria. She’s one house down from us and loves a cuddle.”
I exhale, still not feeling much better. “If Lothar isn’t available, send for Turalyon. We need to contact the elves.” Turalyon was sent with Lothar on the mission to visit the elves. Hopefully he will be able to tell us something useful.
Salo speaks up this time. “My King, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
I hold up my hand. “Peace, Salo.”
The words cast a bit of frosty dissonance in the air.
“I would be called Ra'Salore,” he says. Salo had always been a quiet, somewhat dissenting member of the personal advisors, but he is a talented stone bender and has served his people well. His brother was the one who sacrificed himself to the giants for peace, and I can see he will never fully forgive me for it.
Weary, I drag my gaze to his. “That is how you wereoncecalled. We changed our customs.”
He straightens his back. “Unlike some, I am proud of my family name—the one my brother Tirin also carried before his death. I wish to carry it on.”
Exhaustion makes my flesh sag against bone. I don’t have time to argue.
“Very well, Ra'Salore. I merely want to know what Turalyon found out during his time at court. I don’t intend to go racing off to the men who just orchestrated the abduction of my mate,” I say wryly.
He nods once. It’s a sharp, jagged movement, and with his old name restored, he almost looks different. Hardened.
Fira, who has been quiet to this point, excuses herself to find Turalyon. The silence weighs in the room.
My body wilts into the stone throne, when Liana clears her throat. “If you refuse to sleep, will you at least let me help?”
My head barely moves, which is the best agreement I can give at this moment.
“Ulla,” she urges softly. The two of them approach the throne and rest their hands on my head. I hardly protest when they start to sing in tandem. Energy pours out of the crystals around the room and flows into my very soul. The vibrations wake me up, and my mind feels more alert—it seeks out the bond once again, stroking its shimmery brilliance.
Then they move back, and I adjust my position on the throne.
“My King, I ask again, you wish to court the elves once more? Perhaps this time they won’t just kill a few of us—they’ll finish the job properly,” Ra'Salore says.
I shake my head. “We will wait for Turalyon, and then we will make a plan to seek out more soldiers. Yes,perhaps even from the elves.While I understand your concern, we must go for my mate. The giant court has been restored to its full glory. If we don’t seek out help from someone, we would still risk dying out for good.”
I open my eyes again, the blurriness gone, now replaced with the downturned concern from those before me.
It’s strange to be familiar enough with a group of people to hear their words through the slightest curve of their mouths, both up or down, or the wrinkles around their brows and eyes.
Vann stares at me, eyes full of bitter, almost reluctant, understanding. His vows of allegiance are apparent in his confident, straight-up posture. He is willing to follow, to trust.
Ulla’s eyes are full of thinly veiled concern as she frowns and bounces her bright blue irises from my disheveled hair to the patch of skin under each of my eyes, and the spectacles that rest on the crook of my nose.
Ra'Salore watches me with distaste. Loudly voiced disagreement is apparent in every sharp angle of his nose, chin, and ears.
Liana is thoughtful as she meets my eyes, unflinching. Wise. Slightly horrified as she considers what her mentor might have done to the elves.
Svanna… Svanna is unwaveringly steady. Eager to watch, to correct where she sees fit. That is why it is strange to me she has not yelled at me for my lack of sleep, too.
Another part of me knows that she understands. Her love for Iryth is unmatched. I can almost hear her mind churning, knowing without a doubt that she would also take risks if her family was separated the same way mine had been.
Thank the gods for each of them.
