It hurts to believe any fae would stand beside me.
A good hurt, maybe.
I won’t deny what she wants, but my promise comes slowly, because how can a fae like me promise anything good? “I’ll…try.”
She searches my eyes for another long moment before she gives me a nod. “I’ll accept that.”
She shouldn’t. She should demand more. I took love from her and she’s prepared to accept that I will try.
My arms tighten around her and my voice becomes harsh. “No.”
“Stellen?”
“No, I won’t try.” Before disappointment can blossom in her eyes, I say, “I’llpromise.”
Her lips part, a surprised breath.
“I’ll promise you in song,” I say, taking a chance I never would have taken before today.
Reaching for my Lethian power, I find it so damn ready to bind me to my vows.
“I’ll protect you,” I say, every syllable a smooth hum in my throat. “I won’t make you sleep alone. I’ll answer any request for help you might have. I’ll soothe any pain you want soothed. Fight any battle you want fought. And hold your fate more carefully than I hold my own.”
Her eyes widen.
I press my lips together, fighting back the music that pushes to the tip of my tongue, compelling me to speak dangerous thoughts, these unstoppable impulses, but…fuck it…she’s the only fae in Frost who doesn’t fear my Voice.
“I’ll even sing to you when it’s safe to sing.” I pull back a little. “If you want.”
A small smile grows on her lips. “I would like that.” Then she adds, “Only when it’s safe.” She lifts her gaze to the room, barely moving in my arms. “Like now.”
“Like now,” I say, letting my power settle in my throat.
Her focus catches on the coffin and her eyes fill with tears again, but this time, they’re soft. Free. No longer caged and angry.
“I didn’t have the chance to perform the last rites for my father. I didn’t think I’d ever get that chance.” She returns her gaze to mine. “If I say the words, will you honor him by singing them?”
My heart thumps in my chest, a rush of overwhelming warmth filling my heart, a feeling that shouldn’t belong in my body, but I accept it, anyway.
“If that’s what you wish.”
She unfurls within my arms, her hands seeking mine as she rises to her feet, drawing me up with her.
I expect her to deliver the last rites now, but she hesitates, her forehead creasing. “I should bury him first, but I don’t want to bury him in ice.”
“I understand.” Then I take a risk I shouldn’t take, but I’ve already taken many risks today. “If there were a place in my kingdom that wasn’t covered in snow, would you bury him there?”
“Do you mean the Alak-Teah?”
I shake my head. “Not the Alak-Teah.” I swallow back the cold suddenly pushing upward, threatening to destroy thewarmth that has remained in my chest. “The place I buried my mother and sister.”
She is suddenly very still. “Are you sure?”
I give her a firm nod. “The location is east of here. A hot spring sits near the surface there, one of the few places other than the Alak-Teah where the water keeps the surface warm. The ground is covered in vines to which my mother once sang. Not to grow them—Lethians don’t have that power—just to acknowledge their fight for survival. You don’t need to fear that your father’s grave would be desecrated because Frost Fae won’t go there.” My jaw tightens, but I force myself to continue. “Since I buried my family there, Frost Fae believe the ground is cursed.”
Thyra’s left hand rises to her right arm, where the Dragonstone Blade’s image is hidden beneath her training suit. She, of all fae, will know the difference between superstition and a real curse.
“If you chose that place for your family, then I will choose it for mine.”
