Page 105 of The Mortal Queen

Dagfin flinched as though he’d been physically struck, his brows drawing together. And the pain Aisling saw written across his expression threatened to undo her rage. A fact she cursed herself for.

“I was wrong not to tell you. I should’ve told you everything as soon as I discovered the truth for myself. I regret not doing so and you can despise me for an eternity if you wish so long as you listen to me now.”

The urgency in his voice caught Aisling off guard, startling her as the pace of their dance slowed. The Roktan prince spun her on her heel—the feeling of him so close, the hardness of his chest, the sensation of his every breath against her neck, his heartbeat hammering against her ear as she turned to look up at him.

“Very well,” Aisling surrendered, a slave to the bond they shared as children.

Dagfin released a breath of relief, guiding her through the rest of the dance. The music, the uproar, the laughter of the fair folk, cloaking their conversation from prying ears. Einri, Rian, Gilrel, Galad, Filverel, even Peitho, eyeing them through the crowds. And Aisling was certain there were others who watched as well, those she couldn’t see and dared not search for.

“It was some years ago I was held captive in Lofgren’s Rise.”

“Lofgren’s Rise?” Aisling repeated, quickly shushed by the Roktan prince.

Lofgren’s Rise slumbered oceans away, a mountain range far into the wilderness of a foreign country whose mortal king was near as bloodthirsty as the fair folk themselves.

“What could’ve possibly taken you to Lofgren’s Rise?” Aisling hissed.

“There was an Unseelie I encountered whilst hunting for dwarven thieves near Giant’s Causeway. A lady. She told me of a curse breaker, Ash. One that could give your father all he’s ever craved, to restore the mortals’ former glory and reclaim what the fair folk stole from us.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I believed so too until I discovered exactly what lay within Lofgren’s Rise: a three-eyed owl and a weapon of unmatched power. Ina’s gifts from the gods.”

“You’re wrong. Ina never received a weapon as did the other fae sovereigns. Only Sight.”

“A lie told by the Aos Sí to prevent the mortals from discovering a cure for Ina’s curse existed at all.”

“And you’ve seen this weapon with your own eyes?”

Dagfin hesitated, pulling her nearer to him as the song dissolved. “No. Never with my own eyes. Those mountains, Ash, are more heavily guarded than any fortress known to man or Aos Sí. They’re hiding something and I believe that Unseelie when she tells me it’s the curse breaker.”

Aisling’s mind spun, eyes darting between Dagfin’s own.

“And what’s more, the Unseelie who spoke to me, spoke of a mage. A witch. A sorceress. Words I didn’t understand until I witnessed what you were capable of. Ash, if you truly don’t understand what’s happened to you, the answers may lie in Lofgren’s Rise. I need only take you there.”

Aisling searched his expression, for although the Sidhe couldn’t lie, mortals could and did often. But what she found wasn’t mischief or deception or trickery. It was hope. And if Dagfin was correct and answers indeed lay in Lofgren’s Rise, who Aisling was, why she obtained thedraiocht, who she was becoming—Aisling couldn’t refuse such an offer.

Lir would never allow it unless he journeyed with her. But Aisling knew his inevitable pursuit and race for the curse breaker would undermine her voyage.

“That’s not possible,” Aisling blurted, but the song was ending and Lir’s knights were swiftly approaching. “You’re to wed Peitho tomorrow and if you don’t”—she hesitated, unable to speak the words aloud—“if you choose the correct blade, you’ll be wed to a member of the Sidhe. The quest you speak of will be as improbable for you as it already is for me.”

Dagfin reeled, baffled.

“In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve gotten us out of far more trouble before. I can do it again and again if that’s what youask of me, Aisling.”

“Facing our fathers’ wrath when we misbehaved somehow seems far preferable than toying with political unions on the cusp of reigniting worldwide feuds.”

But even as Aisling spoke it, she felt the strange exhilaration of perhaps freeing herself the Sidhe’s dominion.

Dagfin smiled, remembering the infinite examples of such misbehavior.

“Trust me, Ash. I’ll find a way. I always do.”

And with that, Dagfin released her, disappearing into the crowd of revelers.

Before the night was devoured by the rising sun, a council was to be held in a private extension of the great hall. And as if entering another realm, the music grew muffled by the canvas curtains, the light dimmer, and the room smaller.

At the center of the chamber, sat a round table surrounded by large, wooden chairs. Several places were already set, goblets filled to the brim. Human and fae sentinels alike stood around the circumference of the room; among them Aisling recognized Hagre, Aedh, and Tyr. Gilrel was the only bipedal beast in attendance, perhaps to not shock the mortals more than was necessary.

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