Page 30 of Winter Queen
Once he’s left, I turn to Arc.
“How powerful is Flora? Is she trustworthy?”
“She’s the Goddess of Spring and fertility. Her element is earth, but I’ve never seen her use it, so I dinnae ken how strong she is. She’s kept out of most battles, but if the Morrigan killed her husband, she might want ta get involved in this one.”
I nod. “I’m going to talk to my mother about it. This means that either the Morrigan isn’t actually working with Angus – she wouldn’t attack one of his allies otherwise – or that she had a personal issue with Favonius. Hopefully Flora can tell us more about it tomorrow.”
“What’s worrying me is the poison,” Arc says slowly. “It confirms that the dragons are involved, and that they’re in league with the Morrigan. And the only dragon we could have asked has disappeared with Ada.”
“Maybe we should search for her after all, now that things have changed. I’ll see if Tamara can spare some people. Five people can’t disappear just like that.”
Another thought comes into my mind. “Arc, can you make a list of all the Gods and Goddesses supporting us. And then another of all those we definitely know are on Angus’s side. If Flora is willing to switch sides, maybe she can bring some of her friends with her.”
“Aye, will do. There are some neutral Gods as well, but I ken Beira was planning ta invite them all for talks. I think ye should do the same.”
I cringe at the thought of inviting unknown Gods for a chat. I’m still not comfortable around them. The whole idea of Gods walking around us and behaving like normal humans… ehm, people… is still new to me.
Before I came to the Realms, Beira was the only Goddess I’d ever met, and she’s different from them all. She’s the Mother of Gods, she’s not on the same level with the others.
Thor is a little aloof, but I think I could easily become friends with him. Some of the other minor Gods were just like people back at home, not intimidating at all. Others though… well, when I was suddenly confronted with Hades, the God of the Underworld, at one of my mother’s balls, I bolted.
“I suppose so,” I admit. “Can you ask someone to arrange that?”
“Aye. Dinnae worry, we’ll be with ya all the way.”
I hug him and breathe in his warm scent.
“I know, Arc. You don’t know how much it means to me to have the four of you.”
He chuckles. “Dinnae start being all mushy.”
“Mushy?!”
“Mushy. Like mushy peas, but female.”
I just shake my head and decide to not answer that. Men can be weird.
* * *
I spendthe rest of the day arranging a search to be conducted for Ada and the dragon prisoner, before searching for Crispin. He’s nowhere to be found, and he doesn’t appear in the bedroom either when the four of us retire for the night. I snuggle up with the other three Guardians, but something is missing.
I try to fall asleep, listening to the deep breaths of my men. It’s not working though. There’s an ache in my chest, a sadness that isn’t quite my own. Crispin is hurting. Is this what made Frost come and search me out earlier? Have we started feeling each other’s pain?
Quietly, I get up, trying not to step onto one of the guys as I climb out of the bed. Storm lifts his head sleepily and I whisper “toilet”, watching as he nods and falls asleep again.
I sneak out of the room, following the feeling in my chest. This time, it doesn’t lead me up the tower, but outside into the freezing cold. I summon some warm air, wrapping my entire body in it like a cloak. My feet leave deep prints in the freshly fallen snow as I enter one of the gardens. White snowdrops are lining the pathways, joined by light blue flowers that look a bit like snowflakes with their jagged leaves.
“Crispin?” I call out into the darkness, still following the pain in my chest. The only light here is the moon reflected by the snow, painting the garden in a gloomy, pale yellow colour.
“You shouldn’t be here,” his quiet voice says from the shadows. I find Crispin lying on a bench in the centre of the garden, looking up at the night sky.
“Stop moping and talk to me.”
I’m rougher than I intended to be, but I’m done with him evading me. Now that I know that he isn’t actually angry at me, I’m more confident in stopping him from pushing me away.
“You didn’t read it yet, did you.” His voice is so full of loneliness and resignation that I can’t help but bend down and kiss him. He doesn’t respond though; his lips aren’t moving like mine are.
Damn that man. Why can’t he just believe that I love him no matter what he did in the past?
