“Does he often stare holes into stranger’s faces?” Reyna asked sharply. He was still watching her every move. It was unnerving.
Thane chuckled. “Oh, yes. He intimidates everyone he meets. But he has saved my life on more than one occasion. So, he can glower as much as he likes.”
“Saved your life?” Reyna cut her eyes toward Thane. His face was impassive, but a darkness churned in his golden eyes. “There have been attempts made against you?”
“You sound surprised,” Thane said. “We are at war. Many rightfully believe that my death would be a great blow to the Air Court. I have no living siblings. With my demise, there would be no heir.”
Reyna sat back in her chair. “I had no idea the Sea Court had become so bold.”
“Perhaps, but it could have just as easily been the Wood Court,” Thane said.
“You do not know which court it was?” she asked.
“It was one or the other,” he said. “This is why our alliance is so essential to the future of our people. Together, our might is stronger than theirs alone.”
Reyna frowned. She now understood why Thane was eager to continue with the betrothal, even if he found Eislyn less appealing than Glencora. Thane needed them just as much as they needed him.
“I do not disagree with you,” she said. “However, I am not the one you need to charm. I am a Shieldmaiden. Not a princess.”
“Here you are, your grace.” A serving girl appeared behind them with a jug of wine. She bowed low, pink dotting her cheeks. “Do you wish for some more wine?”
Thane frowned and held up his chalice, silently waiting while the serving girl poured his wine. As soon as she bustled away, he stood. “Excuse me for a moment,Shieldmaiden. There is something I need to attend to.”
Reyna scowled up at him. “You’re leaving during your own welcome feast?”
“I’ll return soon enough.” With that, Thane strode away from the table and headed toward the door that led out into the courtyard. An empty chair now sat beside her. On the other side of it, her father narrowed his eyes. He likely thought she had said something to run him off, but she’d only spoken the truth.
Frowning, she turned her gaze back onto the feast where the rest of the court appeared to be having a much more enjoyable night. Reyna watched Thane’s warrior edge toward the door. He cast a furtive glance around the feast as he pressed a large hand against the warped wood. Setting her chalice down before her, Reyna could not help but lean forward, head cocked. Did he plan to follow the prince? Then, why was he moving so curiously?
Lorcan cast one last glance behind him, and then he pushed out into the night. She must follow him.
“I’ll be back in a moment, Father.” Reyna pushed up from the table, and those around her fell silent. She wished they would carry on with their conversations, paying her no mind. She had grown accustomed to being invisible these past years. With Prince Thane here at court and the question of the betrothal hanging in the air, the entire kingdom had grown far too interested in her every move.
Father dragged his gaze away from the feast and frowned up at her. “Do not tell me you are begging off from your duties already. I asked you for this one night, Reyna.”
“I will return,” she said with a tight smile. “I need some fresh air. It is stifling in here.”
“Very well.” Shaking his head, he turned back toward Lord Morcant, who sat on her father’s other side. He was one of the more esteemed lords of the realm, their distant cousin who oversaw the trade route up north.
Reyna hurried toward the door. It had taken far too long to extract herself from the feast, and she hoped she would catch sight of Lorcan before he vanished into the night. He was up to something. She was certain of it. A loyal warrior he might be, but there was something else lurking beneath the surface. Reyna was rarely wrong in her instincts. So, she followed the warrior into the night.
5
Eislyn
Eislyn often felt as though she and her sister, Reyna, were opposites. Reyna adored the wilderness. She thrived in the thorns and the snow. Eislyn hated the outside world. She would rather curl up beside a blazing fire with a book in one hand and a goblet of wine in the other, even if she was immune to the cold.
And yet, Eislyn found herself agreeing with her sister for once. The gods be damned. She had no desire to play power games while her skirts swished against the gleaming, golden floors of the Air Court. She would not marry Thane, no matter how desperately her father begged her.
Thane was a cruel male, and she had far better things to attend to than transforming into his polite, quiet little bride who followed his every command. He was known to spend his nights in wicked revelry, and he’d slaughtered hundreds of ice fae in the Battle for the Shard.
“‘Allo, Eislyn,” her old, dear friend, Albin, said as she whispered into the library and shut the heavy door quietly behind her. He sat at the table in the very center of the carpeted floor, a pair of spectacles perched on his nose, his long hair white at the ends. Albin was an old fae, even older than her father, from a time before war had ripped the world to shreds. A time when magic filled the ruined lands. As it disappeared, so did he. He had aged a great deal, just as the humans did in the kingdoms beyond the Mag Mell Sea.
“Glad to see you, dear Albin.” Eislyn crossed the room and sank into the high-backed wooden chair across from his. A familiar musty scent filled her nose. The stacks loomed high along the curving tower walls, reaching up toward the glass ceiling above. Some of the tomes here were ancient. Far more ancient than even Albin. They spoke of a time she wished she could have seen. Peace, tranquility, happiness. A world without Ruin.
“I cannot say I am surprised you have come here this night.” He glanced up, slightly smiling. His pale blue eyes twinkled. “Avoiding that prince then, are you?”
“I have no wish to be wed to a prince who would rather feast on venison pie than seek to heal these lands,” she said sharply.
