Page 99 of The Mortal Queen

Nemed nodded in agreement. “I’m assuming he took pride in showing you Annwyn? His people? Their way of life?”

Just as Aisling knew Galad had sensed her anger, oozing from thedraiochtwithin her, she could feel his as well. The potent distrust swelling in each of his flexed muscles. How he bit his tongue to keep himself from lashing out, verbally or physically. He could slay them all if he wanted. Quickly. Easily. But with consequences. Immeasurable consequences for his own kind.

“I’ve answered enough questions,” Aisling chewed the inside of her cheek as she glanced around the room. Her brothers watched her closely, Dagfin visibly fumed, and her father arched a knowing, inquisitive brow. “And I have plenty to ask of my own.”

“Do you blame us? Our littlest sister’s been living amongst barbarians for over a year now,” Starn piped but not without looking to his father first.

“The fae king, he’s strange, isn’t he?” Nemed pushed, shrugging off her protests.

“Strange is relative,” Aisling replied. “And whether he is or not, whether I consider him to be or not, it makes little difference to you.”

“I’d think it would be considering he’s wed to my only daughter.” Nemed grinned like a cat with a mouse between its teeth. “And considering another of our kind will be wed to a fae princess at dawn.”

Aisling’s eyes absently darted towards Dagfin.

“It’s unlikely. The Sidhe can only be handfast if the correct blade is chosen or else?—”

“Or else Dagfin will engage in combat to the death with his would-be bride,” Starn finished for his sister. Annind poured Aisling more wine despite the glass being half full. Another goblet was also filled and placed before the Tilrishhigh king.

Aisling met Dagfin’s eyes, searching those ocean depths. Surely, he wouldn’t, couldn’t, go through with this.

“He’ll make the same choice you had, select the same axe?” Nemed inquired, leaning closer to her. So near, Aisling could smell his breath, the wine staining both his tongue and teeth.

Indeed, this custom was sealed in magic. If they weren’tcaera, one couldn’t select the correct blade even if they knew which weapon belonged to their prospective suitor. Magic would guide their thoughts and body elsewhere.

“No,” Aisling replied honestly, “by Peitho’s own blade.”

She eyed the glass warily, reluctant to sip before her father did himself. Galad’s tension pushed down on Aisling as if she’d been submerged in water. But this was all harmless information. Aisling had sacrificed everything for such harmony. In which case, why would their queries be anything other than curiosity? But even as the thoughts passed her mind, the taste in Aisling’s mouth turned bitter. She’d allowed her naivety to blind her in the past.

“Ah, of course,” Nemed replied, rubbing his chin, “especially considering the fae king appears rather attached to his axes.”

Galad shifted and Aisling’s heart ceased for she knew if Galad chose to strike, to launch himself at the fire hand, it would occur before any uttered a protest.

“Mo Lúrahas answered enough questions,” the fae knight interjected, his voice no more than a growl.

“I’ve never seen him without those axes.” Starn ignored Galad, never once releasing Aisling from his scrutiny, a response that made Galad imagine eleven different ways of slaughtering her eldest brother, Aisling knew. “Have you?”

The mortal queen stilled, eyes darting between her father and her eldest brother. They did not deign to divulge the entire truth; even after everything Nemed had praised her for, still, they didn’t trust her enough to confide in her. After all, she was dressed in the trappings of the fair folk, wielding theirdraiocht. And despite the tender glint in her father’s eyes, Aisling wasn’t blind to Nemed’s guile nor his propensity to cherish the mortal north above all else.

“I haven’t,” she confessed, suddenly aware of the stifling heat vegetating in the tented room.

“Surely, he doesn’t sleep with them, eat with them, bathe with them, please his wife with them strapped to his back?” Annind pressed. He leaned forward in his chair till a candle nearly singed his black hair. And behind him, Dagfin rolled his neck from side to side, stormy eyes alive with thunder.

Aisling’s ears buzzed, her stomach churning with a combination of both embarrassment and wrath. Pure, undiluted emotion she’d never felt before, never experienced. And it overwhelmed her. Made her lose feeling in her fingers digging into the arms of her chair, her feet crossed beneath her gowns, the pulsing of the headache that plagued her now, from minutes, or perhaps hours, of neglecting thedraiochtclawing to be released.

Aisling inhaled. Exhaled. Concentrating on every breath before she spoke as smoothly as she was capable. “I’ve said enough. Did I not make myself clear the first time?”

Shock rippled through the room; this time, it wasn’t so easily concealed. Each of them flinched at the claws alive in her violet eyes. As if every passing moment was a merciful one on her behalf. Whether they believed the might she donned in that moment, Aisling wasn’t certain. Only that she’d silenced them all.

“More than the skin on your hands has changed, Aisling. Such change runs deep within you, doesn’t it?” Nemed asked at last, shattering the awkward stillness swamping the canvas chamber.

Aisling resisted the urge to squirm beneath his regard, those violet eyes that dug deep below her flesh, unapologetically searching for the answers he sought. Not to mention, Aisling couldn’t remember a time she’d been thesubject of her father’s undivided attention as she was now. The feeling of a thief caught in the night.

“Tell me, Aisling, what else happened whilst you lived amongst them?” Nemed pushed, leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees.

“I chose to eat instead of be eaten,” Aisling replied, and to her surprise, every word spilled from her lips as wickedly smooth as syrup, as silk, as fae sweet cream.

Nemed chuckled, taking another sip of wine. “Aye, you’ve done splendidly.” He turned to Starn, Iarbonel, Fergus, Annind, and Dagfin one by one, meeting their eyes as he spoke. “It’s because of Aisling’s sacrifice to Tilren, to the North, to all of our kind that further bloodshed has been prevented. She brings us here today and she deserves our respect now. As a queen in her own right.”

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