As Enbarr’s hooves thudded on the dirt ground, several fae spilled out of the nearest building. They were dirty, disheveled, and wearing rags that looked as though they had been stitched back together a hundred times. Reyna’s heart hurt at the sight of them. Why had she not heard about these people back at court?
One female stepped forward from the rest. She was tall and old, with fingers of age stretching out from her deep-set golden eyes. Her garment was a ragged cloth of faded yellow, covering just enough of her body to protect her from the chill of the wind. Her feet were bare, but her hair shone beneath the glow of the sun, a life and strength emanating from her even amidst all of the ruin.
“You’re Princess Reyna,” the old female said. “The ice fae betrothed to our prince.”
Reyna reached up and fingered her circlet. She had forgotten that she still wore it, even now. “Yes, I suppose I am…I…what village was this?”
“Was?” The woman cocked her head. “The village still is, Your Highness. It is called Varheath.”
Reyna nodded. “Well, I must say, I am sorry about the state of things here in Varheath.”
“We have better survived than some,” the woman replied. “But such is the nature of a hundred year war, Your Highness. We still have our fields and our crops, but the crown takes half to fund the war. We have enough left over for food and drink but not much else. It has all become so impossible, having to rely on our own realm for everything we need.”
Again, Reyna nodded. She understood. Her own realm had struggled without the trade from the rest of the continent. But they had been luckier than most, relying on the Fomorian trade route to survive. The air fae had not been so fortunate.
“I suppose you wish to stop for some nourishment,” the female continued, waving to a small bare-footed boy who stood just behind her. He moved toward her, reaching to take Enbarr’s reins.
“I couldn’t possibly,” Reyna said quickly, unwilling to take these poor people’s food, even if her stomach was desperate to be full again. “I am in pursuit of some dangerous individuals. I don’t suppose you have seen them pass through here?”
“Oh yes, Your Highness.” The woman wrung her hands together, the lines around her eyes deepening in worry. “Two armed strangers with a captive, who looked like a girl. It was hard to see. They had a bag over her head. We all hid inside, terrified they were an enemy looking for slaughter.”
Reyna narrowed her eyes. “Yes, that’s them. Please, point me in the direction they went.”
The woman twisted and pointed toward the east. Reyna frowned. That was…the wrong way. The Crown’s Road split there, one half leading further south to the border with the Wood Court and one half turning toward the east. The only thing in that direction would be more villages and the coast.
And Feurach Fortress, where some of the former king’s family resided, where it was rumored Sloane was hiding out himself. Surely the abductors were not taking Eislyn there.
Reyna frowned. “And you’re certain?”
The woman nodded. “Oh yes. We were careful to keep an eye on them. That way we knew when it was once again safe to emerge from our homes.”
Reyna’s stomach twisted. There was something very wrong about this. Was it some sort of trap? A way to lead Reyna onto the wrong path? An ambush of some sort? They could lead her astray, wait for her to pass, and then backtrack on this road, and then head straight down to the border.
With a sigh, she twisted toward the horizon and stared. Even if this was some sort of trap, Reyna had no other choice but to forge ahead. That was the direction her sister had been taken, so that was the direction she would go.
“Here, have this,” the woman reached up and pressed a small loaf of warm bread into Reyna’s hands. Instantly, her stomach grumbled in response.
“I can’t take this,” she said, even as her mouth watered. “You and your people, you should keep it. Feed yourselves.”
The woman smiled. “We look poor because we are, but we have enough bread from our wheat. Please take it, Princess Reyna. We just ask one thing of you.”
Reyna’s hands tightened around the soft bread. “Of course. What do you need?”
“Can you help stop this war?” she asked, eyes wide and earnest.
The wind swept across Reyna’s body, whipping at her loose hair. She lifted her eyes to see the other villagers waiting in a cluster, dirt packed on cheeks, clothing ragged. Her heart ached for them. She wanted nothing other than to tell them that everything would be all right. But how could she? Everything was a mess, and it had been for a century.
Still, she closed her eyes and nodded. “I will do everything in my power to stop this war. That I can promise.”
It was all she could promise, but it seemed to be enough. A gasp rippled through the crowd, and the woman’s eyes shined.
“I knew an ice fae would be more likely to understand the plight of our people.” She stepped back and gave a nod. “May the Dagda be with you, Your Highness.”
Stomach still twisting, Reyna urged Enbarr toward the fork in the road. She could feel the eyes of the air fae watching her, that hope shining on their faces, even after their world had been destroyed. She wished she could have made more promises than she had, but she had at least been able to give them something. She would do whatever she could to change their world for the better. The air fae might not be her people, but she felt their plight all the same.
First, she would save her sister. And then she would try her damnedest to save this bloody kingdom. One that somehow felt like her own, even if she hadn’t married the damn king and killed him after all.
53
