Page 70 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen
“Vidar?”
He paused to scrutinize her. The red in his eyes seemed to gleam more than usual, like something had displeased him, or perhaps he always looked like this whenever he donned his helmet.
“There has been a change of plans,” he said smoothly. “We must hurry our timeline. You will have to learn to use the cursed sword sooner, rather than later.”
“Why?”
Vidar continued to stare at the room until his gaze fell upon the worn-out book by her nightstand. She recognized it as Aslaug’s book; after the assassination attempt, her sparse belongings had been moved to this room, the book must have been scooped up too. He crossed the distance to it and plucked it off the surface, flipping through it.
“What is it?” she finally asked. She didn’t like how quiet he was being. A sense of urgency and suspicion bled from his tall frame, filling the air with dead. The heaviness wore down on her shoulders and she wished to run out of her chambers to see if Blár was all right. That he was safe.
“Is this yours?” Vidar snapped the book shut and turned to her sharply and she had to resist the urge to flinch back at the coolness of his tone.
“No … Why?” She approached, ready to snatch it from him, but he surprised her by handing it to her. She tentatively opened it and froze.
I will never forgive Leiknir.He must die for his crimes.
I will never forgive Leiknir. He must die for his crimes.
I will never forgive Leiknir. He must die for his crimes.
I will never forgive Leiknir. He must die for his crimes.
I will never forgive Leiknir. He must die for his crimes.
Over and over again,the same two lines were etched deeply into the paper. Some were written neatly, while others were more frenzied, marred with fervid hatred. A wave of nausea flowed over her and she flicked through the rest of the pages to find it filled with the same lines. She should have expected Aslaug to hate her brother, King Leiknir, for imprisoning her for all these years, but … but this seemed to run deeper.
“Why …” The words died at her lips at the last page.
Sylvi
Erik
Raynee
Leif
Sigurd
Gunhild
Bjørn
Blár
Vidar tookit from her hands before she could memorize it or even understand what it meant. Why was Blár’s name on the list? Who were these people?
Her shock must have shown through, but he either ignored it or didn’t think too much about it. He tucked the book into one of his pockets.
“The woman you were imprisoned with, the princess,” he said after a moment. “This belongs to her, yes?”
“It … it does. Why did she write that?” Her heart pounded. She glanced through her open doorway to her antechamber,where her doors were sealed shut. Was Blár still there? Had Vidar found him? “Where is she?”
He studied her again, and she shifted on her feet. She was aware of Astrid awkwardly standing by the vanity, her hands fidgeting in front of her. It was comforting to know that the effect Vidar had on Kolfinna extended to everyone in the room. Though she did notice that the air around him wasn’t as dense as usual.
“Princess Aslaug has been imprisoned for many years by her brother. She seems to hate him.” He lifted his shoulders and that small motion looked unnatural on him. “She requested for it to be brought to her.”
Hope filled her chest. “She’s alive?”
