Reyna tightened her grip on the rough stone parapet as he joined her on the balcony that jutted out from the southern tower wall. Hundreds of ships dotted the sea, interspersed with small pockets of land that made up The Thousand Islands. Those ships held enough forces to take out the wood king and the Air Court combined.
Thane let out a heavy sigh, and that knot in Reyna’s throat doubled in size.
She knew what that sigh meant. Nothing good. She tore her gaze away from the sea and glanced up at the air fae she’d once hated—and now trusted more than most. He stood tall and broad-shouldered, strong, though there was a heaviness in the set of his angular jaw. An elaborate golden tattoo spread across his forehead. An illustration of a Hawthorne tree, branches bare and gnarled. It suited him, this golden king with hair spun from the sun itself. When she’d first met him, she’d thought his tattoo made him look too posh, tooroyal, too above the common low fae of his realm. But now she knew it kept him grounded, just like her mother’s ice glass ring for herself, dangling from a silver chain around her throat. It reminded both of them of who they were.
“I assume this means you’ve spoken with your aunt?” Reyna reached up and ruffled Wingallock’s feathers where he perched on her left shoulder. His talons dug into her skin, sharp like nettles. But Reyna did not mind. She found comfort in the pain.
“I did.” Thane winced. “My pleas didn’t move Aunt Iona in the least. The ships will set sail for the Air Court on the ‘morn instead of heading south toward Findius.”
“Dammit!” Reyna curled her fists into claws and stalked back into her quarters. Heart pounding, she yearned to rip the very sheets from the bed, tear them into teal ribbons, and then throw them out the window where they might vanish into the sea. Along with her last shreds of hope.
“I’m sorry, Reyna,” Thane said, following her inside. “I’m afraid my family is as stubborn as, well...you.”
She did not take offense to that. Reynawasstubborn. Which was why she had no intention of remaining inside this little teal room and casting her eyes upon the horizon where her lover was trapped in a death match with the wood king.
“I’ll go speak with her myself.” She turned toward the doorway, but Thane quickly stepped into her path.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said quietly. “We have a tenuous alliance with your court. It wouldn’t take much to break it.”
Frowning, she glared at him. His frame was wider, more muscular, than it had once been. Life filled his cheeks; fire sparked in his eyes. The Sea Court suited him, Reyna thought. It made sense. He might be as golden as the sun, but his mother had been born here. He would have the salt of the sea flowing through his veins.
And he’d come alive in these lands while the rest of Tir Na Nog thought him dead.
But she would rip that light from his eyes if she must. “Thane, move out of my way. Don’t make me fight you on this. I’ll do anything to get to Lorcan.Anything.”
He sighed and stepped aside. “I’m not going to try to stop you, Reyna. I’m not your enemy.” He pressed his lips together. “Neither are they, you know. Not anymore. They’re your allies now. Your father is joining his forces with theirs.”
She furrowed her brows and stepped past him into the corridor, cast into dazzling sapphire hues by the magic-infused sconces that lined the walls. “Then, they should hear what I have to say.”
“They’ll hear it,” he said sadly. “But I’m afraid all of your passionate words will fall on deaf ears. Or worse. They might take offense.”
Reyna didn’t care. The wood king had surrounded the Shadow Court with hundreds of ships. Findius had been under siege for days. Maybe even weeks. After the battle in Fomorian Square, Lorcan had risen to the throne in the place of his vicious father. Now, he had no way out of his city. And no one had any way to get in. Not without an army. Not without ships.
The Sea Court had both of those. And yet, they intended to turn their sails north, toward the Air Court so that Thane might take back his throne.
The High King of the Air Court led the way through the maze of twisting corridors, his golden cloak billowing behind him. Reyna followed quickly behind. Truly, she could not fault the Sea Court for their plans. They sought vengeance for the death of Imogen, their sister, their cousin, their aunt. They wanted to retake the city from a pretender and put Thane back on his rightful seat. She understood that far too well.
But there was someone far worse than Aengus vying for power. Someone twisted by the power of Unseelie. Someone who feasted on blood and bone. And he needed to be stopped before he took control of the Shadow Court and killed every last fae inside of Findius.
Thane led Reyna into the Great Hall where the Leaghan family sat clustered around a long oak table, spooning a feast of fresh grilled fish, buttered samphire, and goat’s cheese onto their crystal plates. The dying sunset flashed through the wall-to-wall windows on the western end of the hall, and silk banners hung on the wall opposite, finely embroidered with the sigil of the Sea Court—twin waves cresting like wings.
The royal family glanced up at the sound of footsteps. There were only a handful in total.
“Princess Reyna!” A slim sea fae with flowing blue hair sprung up from her seat, her golden gown rustling. With an angular face and glittering sapphire eyes, she was the spitting image of Imogen Selkirk, so much so that Reyna had to steady herself, even though she’d already conversed with the princess several times before. Reyna had never gotten along with Thane’s mother. They’d clashed from the very moment they’d met. Even as allies, they’d been enemies. Right up until the very end, Reyna thought sadly. Imogen had asked her to leave Tairngire in order to track down her son.
And then Aengus had killed her for it.
Princess Iona beamed as she motioned to an open spot on the bench beside her. “Come. You must join us for our feast this night. Our journey to the Air Court will begin quite early tomorrow, and you must eat heartily while you can.”
Reyna frowned but perched on the edge of the bench, more of a show of manners than anything else. She’d learned how to play these games. As Thane settled in beside her, she took stock of the players. There was Iona, of course. She was the princess and second in line for the throne, but Reyna had noticed that she seemed to run the court far more than her father did. Her husband, Dougal, sat on her other side, along with her two toddler boys, both with ruddy cheeks and short-cropped teal hair.
Then, there was Prince Calder, Thane’s uncle. He sat stoically at the far end of the table, his fork poised above his crystal plate. A quiet determination flashed in his sapphire eyes. He’d said little about the impending battle against Aengus, but his intent was clear from the stern set of his jaw. His quest for vengeance need not be spoken aloud.
High King Murdock leaned back in his chair at the head of the table, running his fingers through a beard that looked like clouds. He wore an intricate tunic spun from hoarfrost silk, the collar embroidered in shades of sky blue, deep sapphire blue, and gold. A gift from her father, no doubt.
Unease twisted in Reyna’s gut. As glad as she was for this newfound alliance, something about it did not quite feel right.
With a steadying breath, Reyna turned to Princess Iona with a faux-smile plastered on her face. “I was hoping I could speak with you about your quest to retake Tairngire from the Grand Alderman.”
