Page 5 of A Fate of Ice and Lies
It was a warning of a time when brutal forms of punishment were required, and it made me grateful that the kingdom I’d one day inherit was more peaceful than it used to be. While we still had to battle the darker creatures and fae in our realm, our citizens rarely fought against each other. And if they did, it was usually a small scuffle between friends.
Brew sloshed over the rim of my friend’s mug as he raised it toward me. I jutted my chin out to him in greeting while he slapped me on the back, making more brew spill from his mug.
I waved a hand over my wet breeches, barely noticing when they dried with the slight use of my magic.
“My mistake, your royalness,” Brenton joked, placing a hand on his flat stomach as he gave me a dramatic mock bow from his seat at his usual stool.
He was always the jester, the first to try to lighten the mood or find a joke in almost any situation, so I was used to Brenton’s teasing. My friends and I expected that from him, and my parents not only tolerated it but they also enjoyed it. He brought a lightness to our small group of friends, something I wasn’t sure we would’ve attained on our own.
I took his mug from him, and before he could mutter aprotest, I drank the contents in one swallow. Brenton’s hazel eyes danced in amusement, making the gold hue flash to resemble a burst of sunshine. Despite the humor that played across his expression, his canines elongated to brush past his lips.
“You know how our young prince hates it when you comment on his bloodline,” my other friend George said, joining in on the teasing.
“Careful or he’ll drink your brew too.” Brenton’s scowl didn’t match the lighthearted lilt of his voice.
“I’ll do you one better and grab you a drink myself.” With that, George stood from his stool and made his way to the bar, where he hopped over the counter.
While George enjoyed ribbing me just as much as Brenton, he was a bit more levelheaded. He knew when to tone it down, whereas Brenton just barreled through most situations. And although George had a sensitive streak he liked to ignore, he was the one I’d count on the most to have my back in battle. He could smother the feelings that came after a killing.
If Uncle Hudson hadn’t prided a female whose magic’s sole purpose was to kill, he would’ve made George his second. He’d even considered it before he chose Finley.
Once George finished filling two mugs, Goeffrey, who’d taken my order, handed my meal to George.
Back at our table, my friend and brother handed me my drink, and I raised it in salute.
“To our fallen?” George asked in a hushed whisper. He hunched his wide shoulders, his orange-red hair draping over them to his waist.
Not wanting to draw attention to us, I nodded, and the rest of my friends joined me in raising our brew in silent remembrance.
Aside from their families who’d be notified of their deaths, that was all the public commemoration our fallen got, although they’re families would hold a private ceremony to guide their loved ones into the afterlife.
“I still don’t understand your laws that prohibit you from speaking of your fallen warriors,”Nalari said.“They deserve better.”
I ran a tired hand over my jaw.“I don’t disagree with you,”I said.“But it’s been done this way since the Elder Guardians killed all the mages. When the people think they’re safe, they maintain peace.”
“When the people think they’re safe, they don’t know how to defend themselves from the danger that almost killed them today.”
“I can’t change the laws,”I said in a frustrated groan.“Speak to your Elders if you want change.”
She let out a disgruntled huff.“You’ll tear down the veil for your human.”Her distaste for the female came through our bond, and I growled.“But you won’t speak to your parents about a ridiculous law that disrespects your dead.”
“You know I’ve spoken to them about?—”
“I don’t care.”She yawned.“It’s your dead and your people, not mine.”
With that, she snapped our connection, throwing up the mental shield I apparently couldn’t.
“I heard a rumor,” Everly, the only female in our small group, said, leaning toward us. Her silver hair spilled over her shoulders, so she pulled it back and put it up in a sloppy bun that made her large, pointy ears more noticeable.
“You and your rumors,” I teased, not really feeling the jest but wanting to keep our mood light.
Everly shoved my shoulder hard, and caught unaware, I fell off the stool onto the wooden planks of the floor. BeforeI took my place back on the stool, she and my other two friends had stolen food from my plate, leaving me with only a few potatoes and half the beans I’d originally been served. At least the meat stayed untouched.
I ripped my fork from Everly’s hold, making Brenton snort as I shoveled the food greedily into my mouth before the fools I considered my closest friends could take more.
And they were my closest friends. The ones I’d been able to count on since we’d met at military school. Brenton in the mismatched attire the orphanage had managed to scrounge together for him. Everly with her knowledge of Niev’s history. Her strong desire to not only make her warrior mother proud but also my parents, making her loyal to the crown and to me, as her prince and friend. Then there was George with his quick temper that faded as suddenly as it rose.
We were inseparable, even sharing a four-bedroom house together in Somnio, where we fell into every evening after a day of training or battle. Where we shared food and laughter. Where we argued and fought, sometimes with fists, but always came back together.
