Page 42 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen
THIRTEEN – KOLFINNA
When Kolfinna arrivedto her room later that morning, Aslaug was nowhere to be found. Her side of the room was neatly put together; the blankets and sheets were folded on one side of the bed, the trunk was opened and empty, and the worn-out book she was always flipping through sat neatly atop her pillow. But the older woman was nowhere to be found.
“Astrid—” Kolfinna turned to Yrsa and Astrid, who were just about to shut the door to her room. “Where is Aslaug?”
Astrid paused, glancing over at the empty bed. Yrsa smoothed down the front of her uniform and answered instead, “Commander Alfaer needed her for something. She will no longer be rooming with you.”
Anxiety swirled in the pits of her stomach. What reason would Vidar need Aslaug, the apparent sister of King Leiknir? “Is he going to …” She swallowed down her unease. “Kill her?”
“I don’t think—” Astrid started.
“It’s none of your business,” Yrsa cut in. She placed a hand on Astrid’s forearm and gave her a look, before shifting her attention back to Kolfinna. “Just because you’re the daughter of the commander of this place, doesn’t mean you’re privy toeverything Commander Alfaer does. You are still a prisoner here.”
Kolfinna sat on the edge of her mattress and it dipped with her weight. She kicked off her boots and glared at Yrsa. “I may be a prisoner, but I’m the princess.”
She didn’t know why she was saying it again—she certainly didn’t want to be the princess—but it felt like this was the only thing she could use against Yrsa. The only trump card she had to put her in her place. Or maybe it was because a deep, deep part of her felt good when Yrsa scowled at the prospect of her being better than her in some way.
“A princess who is on the enemy’s side.” Yrsa crossed her arms over her chest. “Aslaug is also a princess. That doesn’t mean she gets special treatment.”
“Yrsa.” Astrid fiddled with the leather cord tied at the bottom of her long braid. She chewed on her lower lip and looked between them both. “You shouldn’t argue with her. She is Commander Alfaer and Queen Aesileif’s daughter.”
A vein on Yrsa’s forehead throbbed. “She doesn’t deserve better treatment.”
“Are you being serious right now?” Astrid’s white eyebrows pulled together; she copied Yrsa’s position and crossed her arms over her chest too. “You might be newer to this because you’re a member of Ragnarök and you’re mostly human, but here, Kolfinna is very, very important. Probably the most important person in the world for us fae. She will receive good treatment from us, and if you have no intention of treating her fairly, then you will have to step down from your position. We don’t want a guard who doesn’t have our princess’s best intentions here. Do you understand me, or not?”
Yrsa’s lips flattened into a straight line. “Astrid?—”
“Do you understand me, or not?” Her voice hardened and she stepped forward. She was taller than Yrsa by a head, andappeared even more intimidating when she was glaring down at her with those amethyst eyes of hers. “We tolerate you human Ragnarök members because your lineage does thread back to us fae, but do not think for even one second that we value you more than we do an actual fae. Your bloodline is ruined with human blood.”
They both stared at each other heatedly, and Kolfinna worked her fingers through her hair to undo her braid, her fingers needing a distraction from the tension. She wondered, briefly, if human Ragnarök members like Yrsa would eventually split away from the fae army upon realizing that they wouldn’t be equals to them, despite working on the same side. Maybe they were also in a strange position like Kolfinna was—wanting to belong somewhere where you were the minority.
Yrsa finally exhaled deeply and stomped out of the room, but not before slamming her shoulder against Astrid’s. Once she was settled into her spot in the hallway, she didn’t look back at them even once. Astrid’s jaw locked in place as she scowled at her, and then she turned back to Kolfinna with a softer expression.
“I apologize about that,” she said. “I understand that you’re a prisoner here, but you are still our princess. If anyone bothers you, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”
Kolfinna nodded, unsure of what to say to that. “Thank you.”
“Certainly.” She gave her a warm smile before clicking the door shut.
Kolfinna tossedand turned that night, pulling the blanket up to her chin and shivering beneath it. She hadn’t realized how lonely she was until Aslaug wasn’t there. The room seemed darker than before, the shadows collecting in the corners. Afterher morning practice, she hadn’t been forced to have dinner with Vidar, or do anything else. She had been stuck in her tower, staring up at the ceiling, having food brought to her, and overall doingnothing.
She had tried searching the room for a way to escape. She checked the runes in the window bars and tried to break them, to no avail, and then the rest of the room. Unfortunately, her magic wasn’t enough. Which irked her more than it should have. She and Blár had done the Bryllup ceremony together—shouldn’t that have made her stronger? Were all of these runes done by Vidar? Was he that much more powerful than her and Blár combined? It frustrated her to no end.
Yanking the blanket over her head, she curled up into a tight ball. It was useless. She was going to be stuck here until Vidar forced her to wield the cursed sword and made her free the wicked queen. And then … then she wasn’t even sure what would happen to her. Would the humans accept her back on their side if they knew she was the reason the queen was freed? They would hate her even more.
It was strange. She believed in the human side, and yet she belonged on the fae side more than them. At least here, most of the warriors didn’t hate her.
Crack.
Kolfinna stilled, her ears straining. Had she heard something? Now that she had sharp fae ears, her hearing had improved substantially, but it also made her realize that she had to ignore the vast majority of what she heard—like the flapping of birds’ wings, or the buzzing of flies, or the slow exhales of soldiers.
It was probably just another useless sound for her to ignore. Even though it sounded eerily close.
Crack.
She turned to her side. Whatever it was, it wasn’t her problem.
Crack.
