Page 50 of A War of Three Kings

I cross my arms over my chest. Let these humans fight over my supposed merits and traits. Anything I say will further inflame the situation.

Edmund turns to Keira, a hard expression on his face, then he finally nods at her.

Keira’s eyes dance with thrill, and I have no idea what she is going to tell this lord. Surely not that we are—werelovers. Thatshe holds my fucking heart in her fist and I would follow her off the edge of a cliff to make sure she fell safely. That I want her as my queen. That I would do anything,anything, she asked of me. That she knows I could never hurt her people, because I couldn’t willingly hurt her.

Keira doesn’t register the turmoil rolling within me. The waves of sick anticipation that crash over me. Her eyes flick to mine, then she says, “These fae are not mercenaries. They are agents of the Spring Court’s king and want to establish a trade agreement with the humans of the Northern protectorate.”

Something cracks within my chest at those words, and by the Shadow Court and all its demons, it hurts. It is like my entire essence is falling, falling, falling, into a darkness I can’t seem to climb out of. I am a fool to think she would even hint at feelings for me, or acknowledge those I have for her. It doesn’t make strategic sense, but the gods know, I needsomethingfrom her.

“Think on the wealth and magic that will flood into our protectorate.” Caitlin reaches around her sister. “Do not miss out on such an opportunity because you are afraid of themonstersof the Otherworld. I have been there, and they are not so scary. Many of the other lords will snap it up, and how will you compete?”

“Ah! There is the truth of it.” Tomas claps his meaty hands and grins. “They help us win this war, and then we are in their debt and must agree to whatever conditions they demand!”

“Don’t try to be clever with me, Tomas.” Edmund leans back in his seat. “Their involvement in this war is merely an act of goodwill between nations, to open the way for trade discussion. We will owe them nothing. Isn’t that right, Aldrin?”

They all turn to me. I try to school my features, but simmering rage is my constant companion these days.

“Easy, Aldrin,” Silvan murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear. “Remember why we are here.”

I unclench my teeth. “You owe me some common fucking courtesy, but that is about it. I can give you a magical oath if you like, or make a bargain.”

“Oh, no, that is fine. Every human knows not to make a bargain with a fae—except Edmund, it would appear.” Tomas glances at the Lord Protector, who grunts but doesn’t say a thing. I realize the little lord is enjoying this, holding the balance of power over his liege lord. Sowing discord between us. “Tell me—Aldrin, was it? What sort of trade would you offer?”

I run a hand through my hair. “Have you ever tried fae spices? Grown in our realm, they are imbued with magic.” Tomas’ beady eyes train on me. I can see the thoughts ticking in his mind, so I go on. “We can offer seeds for herbs and flowers that generate their own magic and can be used in potions.”

I continue, having an actual conversation with the little lord as he momentarily forgets that I am fae and sees me as a merchant instead.As we talk, tables are removed from the center of the banquet hall and people pair up to dance. The mood changes immediately as the couples swing each other by looped arms and trade partners, all in time with the music.

When the beat becomes even faster-paced, and a woman uses an air wield to amplify her singing, Caitlin abruptly stands and pulls up her sister. Keira shakes her head, but there is a huge smile on her face as Caitlin urges her to the dance floor, almost pushing her in that direction.

They immediately grasp hands and swing to the tune of the music, their feet following the same steps as the others around them.I would never have expected the severe-faced Caitlin to enjoy dancing.

Keira’s expression is one of utter abandon, lips curled in a huge smile and eyes glittering. She looks so young and beautiful, without a care in the world. In this moment, nothing can reach her but the music, not even an advancing army.

I can’t drag my eyes away. I can’t stop imagining what it would be like to swirl her across the ballroom in my palace and teach her the dances of my court. To wrap my arm around her waist and press her against my chest.

When I finally drag my attention away from the dance floor, I find Edmund staring daggers at me, his emerald eyes savage. Our gazes lock, and I refuse to back down and be made to feel like I cannot even look at Keira. A muscle ticks in Edmund’s jaw and the tendons in his neck stick out. My hands ball into clenched fists.

A messenger, still covered in the dust of the road, approaches Edmund, forcing him to drag his eyes away first. They speak a few words, then the messenger hands over a scroll. Edmund breaks the seal and his eyes roam over the message once, then twice. The color drains from his face and his lips twist.

I shoot Silvan a worried glance, but his narrowed eyes remain on Edmund, analyzing every inch of his body language.

“Is it bad news, Edmund?” Lord Tomas probes in a gentle voice.

“Only what we expected.” Edmund’s face and neck flush red and his nostrils flare. “Finan has marched his army out of Sunbright City and across the Golden Plains. They will be here in under a month.”

A cold shiver runs through me.

“We may have longer than that,” Lord Tomas insists, placing a hand on Edmund’s arm. “It would take a highly organized army to march here that quickly. Finan is inexperienced in the ways of warfare.”

Edmund unclenches his jaw. “He has appointed Lord Desmond as his general.”

Lord Tomas’ mouth works, but no sound comes out. His eyes dart around the room as though he is looking to flee. “Lord Desmond?” he practically squeaks.

“Can someone tell me who the fuck Lord Desmond is?” I want to shake both of them to get my answers faster.

Edmund’s eyes flick to mine. “When Fernsworth City went into full revolt a decade ago, Lord Desmond was sent to deal with the rebellion. The rebels locked everyone inside the city walls, so Lord Desmond set his catapults on them, including our own civilians. When his forces finally breached the fortifications, his soldiers killed, raped and pillaged under the king’s name. The slaughtered and burned alive rebels, civilians and children alike. He never bothered to sort them. By the time he was done, the entire city’s population was dead and the buildings were reduced to rubble. He is a man who sees death and destruction as a path to his own advancement.”

“And the North is a plump pig for the taking, for a warlord like that.” Tomas practically shivers in his seat.

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