“That is not the reason you gave me when I asked why you want this alliance.” She closed the distance between them and pushed her finger into the very center of his armored chest where the sigil of his court—a golden crown—had been etched into the leather. “You did not even hesitate when I asked you. Your first thought was of power.”
He glanced down at where her finger touched his golden armor, and then back up to her eyes. “Perhaps I am the monster you make me out to be, but that does not change the fact that we both have something the other wants. If you agree to the betrothal, you will have access to every library in my city. You may spend hours there, combing through the books and seeking your answers.”
“Maybe so,” she said in a harsh whisper, her heart racing. “But I will not marry you Prince Thane Selkirk of the Air Court. I will not help you claim the power you so desperately crave.”
6
Reyna
When she pushed open the door, her low-cut, deep blue gown swishing around her slippered feet, a blast of frosty air hit her square in the face. She stepped out into the snow. As the door slammed shut behind her, the icy air cocooned her body. Being a fae born in the north, she did not feel the cold as the fae of other courts did. She was not certain she had ever shivered a day in her life. The snow felt like home. The ice warmed her feet. The bite of it made her feel alive. She wondered if this was how Thane felt when the harsh winds of his kingdom pummelled his face.
Unfortunately, as soothing as the chill felt along her bare arms, unease sunk deep into her bones. There was no sign of Thane’s warrior in the courtyard. She cast a glance around the quiet square. During the day, this part of the castle was a bustle of activity. Every morning, her father welcomed the traders of the city through the gates. They would set up their stalls, hawking their wares to the low fae who made the trek into the city from the surrounding villages.
Reyna loved the market. She mingled with the villagers and paid visits to the traders as often as she could. Now that she was no longer an official member of the court, she had the freedom to go almost daily.
She turned left toward the path that led away from the square and deeper into the castle. There, she spotted a pair of large footprints in the snow. Narrowing her eyes in determination, she followed the trail. Her footsteps were quick. She was accustomed to the icy surface, and soon she had wound through the silent castle buildings before coming to a stop just outside the Roost Tower.
The footprints stopped just at the door, which had been left cracked. Blue light splashed onto the snow from the sconces that hung from the interior walls. Frowning, she pushed inside. There was only one reason to visit the Roost. Thane’s warrior had come here to send a letter.
Reyna slowly made the long trek up the spiral stone stairs. The Roost was set at the top of the castle’s second tallest tower with windows overlooking the northern forests that stretched as far as the eye could see. The Ice Court relied on their owls for most messages, delivered quickly throughout the realm. They had hundreds trained for this purpose, housed in the expansive space above. Wingallock and the few other familiars would sometimes join the other birds in the Roost, though Reyna preferred to keep him in her chambers. She did not like to be parted from him for long.
At the very top of the winding stairwell, Reyna pushed through the door and into the Roost. Inside, hundreds of wings fluttered against the icy air. The six round windows held no glass, allowing the birds to come and go as they pleased, and timber beams had been built into the walls, providing perches and corners for nests.
She glanced around. Lorcan wasn’t here either. Disappointment churned through her gut. She had been certain she would catch him in the middle of…something. It was hardly a crime to send a letter, but he’d been acting so odd.
A snow white owl flew down from above and landed gently on her shoulder.
“Hello, Wingallock,” she cooed to her owl familiar, stroking the pale feathers beneath his chin. “I do wish you could attend the feast, but Father is afraid you will scare the guests. They are not accustomed to animals like we are. Have you happened to see a grumbly-looking warrior up here recently?”
Wingallock cooed back, and then opened his sharp talons. Inside lay a curled parchment, tied together with blue string.
“What’s this?” she asked, frowning.
She took the note and unrolled the parchment. It crackled beneath her touch. Her eyes tripped across the words, horror and anger building within her as each second passed by.
Dearest Reyna,
I understand you are no longer a member of the nobility, but there is no one else I trust with this truth. A week past, I was on the road to Tairngire, determined to smuggle some hoarfrost silk across the border. Please forgive me for that.
I planned to stop at our favorite inn, The Sapphire Axe. And I witnessed something terrible. The prince who has come to wed your sister stopped there for the night. A fight broke out. I cannot say who started it, but I can say who ended it.
Your new prince ally murdered young Zed, the boy we played with in the courtyard, the boy who learned to be a cook. The prince and his guards then killed every single ice fae in that inn, and then burned the place down.
He cannot be trusted. You must do something to stop him. Return to your place in the court if you must.
In sorrow,
Aoiffe
Reyna’s heart thundered in her ears as she crumpled the note in her fist. Her old friend, Aoiffe. They had grown up together. They had become Shieldmaidens together. And then they had fought in the Battle for the Shard side by side. Scarred from that blood-soaked field, Aoiffe had turned her back on her duties and then looked to smuggling to get by.
The last time Reyna had seen her, they had argued fiercely.
Reyna put her fist into her mouth and bit down hard to hold back the scream building in her throat. The note spoke of a horror she did not wish to believe, but Aoiffe could not lie, even on paper. The prince, the Ice Court’s new ally, had murdered dozens of ice fae on his way to claim his bride.
He had killed Zed. Reyna’s squeezed her eyes shut. She could picture the boy’s face in her mind’s eye, and memories of their time spent running barefoot through the castle grounds flickered across the back of her eyelids.
Anger and determination coiled in her gut, as venomous as a dragon. The call of her warrior soul was a drumbeat in her ears, urging her to battle. She would not stand for this.
