“Those who roam the realms without a soul are not to be trusted.” Kjeld blurted the words out for no other reason than to draw Caelian’s attention away from the dashingly handsomebloodsucker who was looking at her like she was going to be his next meal.
Caelian ignored him and Lothaire didn’t even spare him a glance.
He regarded Caelian with all the intensity of a proper suitor with ill-intentions. “Afaevampire, if you will.”
“Fascinating,” she breathed, leaning into him as he led her toward the door.
“I’d love to tell you about it sometime. It’s a most wondrous story.” Lothaire gave a little backward wave, the silver ring on his finger glinting like hallowed moonlight as he disappeared with Caelian into the hall.
“Well, I’m sure Lord Ariesian Starstorm will be less than pleased once he learns the truth of your treatment regarding his younger sister.” Queen Viktoria smirked then, her unsettling eyes daring him in a silent battle of wills. Testing him to see if he’d draw his axe upon her. “Just as I am truly displeased that you are not in Brackroth on behalf of your queen, but instead because Lord Ariesian wants to know if I pose him any sort of threat.”
Her tone was off-putting. It was too saccharine. Like a days-old syrup. It raised every last one of Kjeld’s alarms. At his back, the sting ofKaldflam’s blade sang. And his fingers twitched.
“No need for heroics, General.” The queen tossed her long plait of black hair over one shoulder, then ran her tongue along her teeth. “You know, you and Lady Caelian were almost believable. Anyone on the outside would surely have thought they stumbled upon an infatuated couple in the throes of a lover’s caress. But I know better.”
Queen Viktoria may have claimed there was no need for heroics, but Kjeld knew better than to trust a witch at her word. Instead, he would play her game, bide his time, then show his hand.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Your Majesty.” He roughed his knuckles along his coarse beard, feigning innocence. “Lady Caelian is my betrothed.”
The queen snickered, like she was in on some secret joke. “You really do a valiant job of pretending to be the doting suitor, General Holtstrom. But I am well aware of the reason for your visit.”
She sauntered forward, heaving a disappointed sigh. “Though, I had hoped for better. You see, I know you and Lady Caelian can barely tolerate being in the same room with each other. I know her magic was taken from her as a form of punishment, and that you were made into a fae against your will.”
Damn it.
Apparently Queen Viktoria had the better hand.
“How?” Kjeld found himself croaking the word out, desperate for an answer. “How do you know these things about us? About why we’re here?”
“Oh, it’s quite simple.” Queen Viktoria tucked a loose lock of midnight hair behind her ear. “I meet with Lord Ariesian Starstorm rather frequently.”
“That can’t be true.” Kjeld held his ground. He would have seen her before, at least have met her acquaintance. “Where do you meet with his lordship?”
This time, the queen did not smile. “In his dreams.”
“In his…” Kjeld straightened, taking in the petite queen standing before him. His brows knit together as he puzzled through her words. “Forgive me, did you say in his dreams?”
“You heard correctly, General.”
“So, you…” he prompted, not entirely sure what to ask or why.
“I walk through dreams.” It was a statement of fact. Queen Viktoria drummed the tips of her long, painted nails on the top of the desk. “Do you know what that means?”
“Aye, I’ve got a decent enough idea.”
It was an ancient type of magic he’d heard of through stories and lost lore, of witches whose power stemmed from the world of the in-between. Some could weave dreams. Some could forge them. Others could visit them, maybe even change them if they were strong enough. For the queen to be able to travel astrally to the mind of Ariesian Starstorm while he slept spoke volumes to the magnitude of power she possessed.
He would dare not cross her. And he would warn Ariesian of the same.
Queen Elowyn of Aeramere, however, could fend for herself.
Queen Viktoria moved to the back wall where rainfall splattered against the panes, the sound of it bringing back a faded kind of memory Kjeld had almost forgotten. It brought him to a time when he would lie on his bed after a long day and even longer night of training the dragon whelps. He’d stare at the ceiling, letting his muscles relax into the mattress while the rain pelted his window. It was rhythmic. Soothing. An uneven melody that often brought him comfort.
Now his evenings were strained. Sleepless and fitful. It never failed that any time he was near sleep, any time his demons settled enough to allow him rest, Caelian’s cries would keep him awake. Her shattered whispers would steal into his dreams. He no longer could tell the difference between the rain or the sound of her tears.
He should send her back to Aeramere at once.
Be rid of her once and for all.
