Page 124 of A War of Three Kings

We lose ourselves in the revelries as more fae and humans join our group. Silvan and Liam compete over who can create the most impressive ice figure. Caitlin, my father and Aldrin become engrossed in a discussion about our family’s orchard production with limited magic.

I find myself in the middle of a fae card game, losing badly and struggling to keep up with the rules that I swear Drake keeps changing, while Hawthorne gives me helpful tips.

The clopping of dozens of hooves striking the road announces the arrival of a party. A ripple of unease runs through the celebrations. I jump to my feet as sickly sweat erupts across my body. Aldrin and my father race toward that sound. I completely freeze up. My breaths catch in my throat and my chest constricts, making it hard to breathe.

My first thought is that we are under attack. That Lord Desmond snuck behind us and struck our rear. Then the clouds over the full moon part and reveal the profiles of the riders.

Two dozen women in white cloaks and riding skirts. Mothers of Magic. The fact that they traveled on horseback instead of by foot means their message is urgent.

By the time I join the congregation, the priestesses are surrounded by guards with swords half drawn.

“He has the personal protection of the Mothers of Magic!” a priestess roars from where she stands in her stirrups, but the soldiers don’t back down. My eyes dart between our guards and the priestesses with disbelief, until my attention lands on the man in their midst. His hood obscures most of his face and the angle he stands at hides his identity from me.

“What is the meaning of this?” my grandmother yells as she pushes her way through the ring of Appleshield Guards. “Stand down immediately!”

“I’m not so sure about that, Mother,” my father says as he and Aldrin glower at the man, close enough to see his face.

I maneuver around the cluster, reaching my father’s side at the same time as my grandmother. She lets out a soft curse.

I completely dissociate, my brain refusing to process the truth in front of my eyes.

“Hear what he has to say. I implore you,” the priestess continues. “We have brought him into these lands, through the priestesses’ portals, because he offers his help to us. I have his word through a blood oath that he has not come here with intentions of deception or harm to the North.”

“Dismount from your horse, NOW,” my father bellows at the man. The soldiers around him take a step forward, but he holds up a hand to halt them.

Before I know what I am doing, I close the distance between us and gently remove the hood from his face. Blue-black curls spring out. His pale skin is covered in a sheen of sweat that glimmers under the moonlight. There is a hard set to his jaw, and those icy blue eyes that are so similar to his brother’s are blazing not with fear, but with determination.

“Prince Niall,” my father hisses. “You have some nerve coming here.”

The clang of armor plates clashing as the guards take another step toward him sends spikes of anxiety through me.

Prince Niall drags his gaze away from my father, back to me. It is like we speak a silent language in those tense few moments, as he swallows hard and ripples of vulnerability pass across his face. We were always allies, sacrificing ourselves for the greater good of the kingdom.

“You know me, Keira,” he finally whispers. “You know what I fight for. We have always been able to trust each other.”

“Father, I think we should hear him out,” I call out over my shoulder.

“You will want to hear what I have to say.” Pain flashes in Prince Niall’s eyes and is gone a moment later.

My father pulls me back, then grits his teeth as he leans in toward Niall’s face. “The crown has slaughtered its way across these lands, bringing war to our doorstep and pillaging innocent villages. You said your brother merely needed a show of force to back down, yet we have engaged in battle with him twice! Too many of my people have died at the whims of the crown. Why should I listen to you now?”

Prince Niall doesn’t even flinch. “Because I am not my brother. I would right his wrongs.”

“We will discuss this in the war room, with a full council present,” I snap at both men. “I am sure Prince Niall risked himself journeying behind enemy lines for a reason.”

I don’t wait for a response. I bark orders at the surrounding Appleshield Guards to summon the council and they scurry to do my bidding.

Chapter 33

Keira

The war room is deep within the bowels of the fortress, one of the many chambers in the outer structures that wasn’t destroyed. The only furnishings are a huge, round table and many chairs.

I shiver uncontrollably, my teeth chattering, and tell myself it is because the unadorned stone of the walls, floor and ceiling seems to suck all the warmth out of the air. Not because of the icy dread pumping through me.

My father drags himself away from his staring match with Prince Niall long enough to glance at me, then clicks his fingers. The cold fireplace prepared with wood instantly roars to life.

The door crashes open and Aldrin walks in, Cyprien on his heels. My heart tumbles at the sight of his tall, broad, menacing form. So many would cower away from the man in whom I find safety. His eyes narrow as they land upon Finan’s brother, then a small smirk forms on his lips.

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