Page 30 of Mirror of Malice
“Well, while you’re up...” Charming nodded his head toward the bar, and Hammer grumbled.
“Oh, one for me too,” the woman with the brown curly hair said. Brains, I think, was her nickname.
Hammer’s face turned red. “I was going to get one for the lady, not for the whole damn table.”
“Thank you,” Charming called as Hammer stomped away.
I turned on the bench, facing outward, studying a painting that hung on the wall. I knew what it was: the false king and queen leading their people from Elwen to Mosswood Forest, deciding to break away from the earth court and fracture it in half. I’d only been four years old and hardly remembered the war that followed as the mountain dwellers fought Elwen for their independence. In the painting, the false king and queen glowed with a light, both holding torches as they entered the forest, like heroes saving their people instead of the defectors they were.
“Do you know much about the Great War?”
I swallowed at the feel of Penn’s breath tickling my ear, then shifted further away from him. He’d turned as well, now facing the painting with me.
“Yes,” I said. “My tutors taught me everything, and whatever I didn’t learn from them, I learned from our personal libraries, from scrolls that historians kept.”
“Then why do you look so confused right now?” He crossed his muscled arms.
I quickly schooled my features. “I’m not confused.” I refused to admit any kind of weakness to him, though he was right. In between the false king and queen was a little boy who held onto both their hands. I’d never heard they had a son, and I wondered if he died with them when they were killed toward the end of the war, and maybe that’s why he’d never been mentioned in the history books or by my tutors.
“I’ll never understand how the false king and queen could have broken away from Elwen like they did,” I said. “They caused so much pain, so much destruction, with their decision.”
“Sometimes, rulers have to make hard choices,” Penn said. “But they did what they thought was best.”
My jaw clenched at his words. “They did it because they wanted power, because they were selfish.”
Penn snorted but stayed silent.
“I didn’t know they had a son,” I admitted. “That was never mentioned in any of the books I read or by any of my tutors.”
“Maybe they didn’t think he was worth mentioning,” Penn said.
“Why?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.
“Like his parents, he was flung into the forest by trees along the Elwen border, every bone in their bodies broken and mangled by the attack.”
I stared at the little boy, my heart splintering.
“That’s sad,” I said. “He didn’t deserve to die like that.”
I felt Penn’s stare and turned. “Yes?” I asked, feeling far too exposed.
“You’re sad over the death of a mountain dweller?”
I bristled at that. “He was a child. I’m not a monster. I know there were many innocent people who died in that war. People who were misguided, lied to by the false king and queen. None of them deserved to lose their lives. None of them deserved to be cut off from Elwen after the border was closed.”
After the mountain dwellers used their magic to erect the border, we lost so many wonderful medicines, foods, and other resources, but they suffered, too, their people trapped in Mosswood Forest, unable to come back to Elwen, unable to go anywhere since the forest was bordered by Elwen—and the Deadlands.
Once upon a time, the Deadlands had been called Shiraeth, the star court, its people powerful wielders of star, sun, and moon magic, but they’d been wiped from existence sixty years ago, and their court dissolved into chaos and ruin, a place for criminals, monsters, and darkness. The Deadlands was not a place anyone visited on purpose, only the most desperate using it as a shortcut from Mosswood Forest up to Fyriad, the frost court. And those that did try to cut through the Deadlands were usually never heard from again. I’d never understood why themountain dwellers would close themselves off like that, how they could be so desperate to trap their people and separate from Elwen that they’d chosen to erect the wall of vines across the border like that. It was monstrous, and it hurt everyone involved.
I turned to say something snarky to Penn, only to find him studying me, a look I didn’t recognize on his face. Memories of those lips pressed to mine flashed in my mind, and warmth flooded my belly as I thought about the way his arms had wound around me, the way I’d fit so snugly against his huge body.
I swallowed, unable to break whatever hold he had on me. My gaze traveled to his lips, the slightest quirk to them.
“Yer ale, princess.”
The words snapped me from my thoughts, and Hammer stood before me, holding out a mug of ale. I nodded my head in thanks, accepting the glass and bringing it to my lips.
“Penn!” Arrow fell into his lap, roping her arms around his neck and pressing her breasts into his chest. Her red hair fell past her shoulders, hanging in perfect waves around her waist, and she made a pouty face at him. “We haven’t gotten to spend nearly enough time together lately.”
