And, one day, that brotherly bond would turn to dust in his mouth.
Reyna nodded, as if she understood. “Starford Castle never really felt like home for me either, even though I love my family fiercely. It’s always been this. The trees, the snow, the ice, the stars in the sky. It’s almost as if I can...” She flushed again and shook her head.
He cocked his head, curious. “Almost as if what?”
“It sounds ridiculous.”
“Tell me,” he pressed.
She looked up into his eyes, those pools of silver staring back at him. “It’s almost as if I can feel it all. I can even hear it.”
Lorcan’s heart thumped. Did she know what she was saying? “You feel a connection with your element here? But you’re no longer inside your kingdom.”
Reyna stared at him for a moment longer before laughing and turning away. “I know. That’s why I said it sounds ridiculous. I should feel no draw to the lands here. I am born of ice.”
“And you felt this in the Ice Court as well?” he prodded. Reyna should not have been able to feel it even then. Before the Fall, the magic of the fae had been drawn from the lands. And that great power that had once lurked beneath the soil, in the trees, in the winds, and even in the very shadows themselves, it was gone...for the most part.
“Perhaps it’s merely my imagination.” She sighed and dropped her chin to her knees. “That’s what Glencora has always said. My imagination must have come with me...we’re sitting on ice, after all. It makes sense.”
But it did not make sense. Reyna must have suspected it didn’t because she fell silent, fingertips slipping along the icy bark as she stared into the depths of the woods. He could tell by the hunch of her shoulders that she doubted herself. Being the only person who saw and felt things had an unfortunate effect on the psyche. It made even the strongest worry they were no longer sane.
Lorcan wanted to tell her that she was not the only one who heard the whispers of the dirt and felt the pulsing of the world beneath her fingers. But he couldn’t. Not without risking it all. Not when he did not even understand it himself.
He had searched for answers. The libraries of Tairngire were infamous throughout the continent. If there was a book that could tell him the truth about the power he felt, it would be in there. Unfortunately, as the prince’s personal guard, he had little time for perusing books, and he could not bring much attention to his pursuit of knowledge. He did not want anyone to discover the truth about him.
“You look as though you’re as troubled as I am,” Reyna said, elbowing his side. “Where did your mind go just now? Wait. Sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”
He smiled. For a princess, she often forgot her words. There were unspoken rules in the world of the courts. One of those was to never ask a fae what they were thinking. As much as fae enjoyed trapping others with their inability to lie, there were constraints. No one wanted to be asked what they were thinking, so no one asked. In a world where wickedness often ruled, they could be surprisingly strict about questions.
“I was thinking that I may have misjudged you when we first met,” he said. “Truth be told, I thought you would make a terrible High Queen.”
Reyna sat up a little straighter, though she did not look the least bit offended. “That is surprisingly blunt. And you’ve changed your mind, have you? You think I am a great match for your prince?”
He chuckled. “I didn’t say that.”
“I don’t disagree with you, you know,” she countered. “Glencora would have been a wonderful High Queen of the Air Court. She would have ruled well by Thane’s side. I wish things could have gone differently.”
He did not doubt that.
Overhead, Wingallock’s cry echoed through the hushed night. Reyna suddenly jumped to her feet, dagger in her hand. Lorcan hadn’t even seen her reach for the weapon.
“He’s here. An assassin has actually come,” she hissed, closing her eyes so that she could better see through her familiar. It was a strange sight, watching a fae channel herself in this way. Pure magic. A power that so few had. “A hooded figure, coming quickly but quietly down the path. He will be here in a few moments.”
They gave each other a long look before racing back to the clearing. Lorcan pulled the sword from his back, dumping it onto the ground. Then, he pulled his tunic over his head and tossed it onto the patch of snow he had disturbed earlier. Cool wind whispered across his bare skin.
And then he looked at her. Reyna had thrown her cloak on top of her weapon, and she had shrugged off her trousers, exposing a pair of very long, smooth legs. Beneath, she wore hardly anything. A white silken undergarment that barely covered her hips.
She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. “There you go gawking again. Stop staring and get down on the ground with me.”
He looked at her incredulously. “On the snow?”
Impatiently, she threw up her hands. “Yes. Why the hell not?”
“Because it’s as cold as a Fomorian’s heart,” he hissed.
“If you’re going to pretend to be my lover, you must get on top of me and kiss me. Now.”
Reyna wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her. Lorcan did little to resist. A little warning bell clanged in his head, and the mark on his shoulder pulsed, but nothing more. Still, this felt wrong somehow. Reyna was Thane’s betrothed. They were to marry.
