Page 102 of A Sword of Ice
As if sensing his thoughts, Valerio gestured with a flick of his fingers. “Your tightening jaw, your eyes… You forget that you are my best friend. I can read you as easily as I can read myself.”
No falser words had ever been spoken.
See, Valerio did not know himself as well as he thought he did.
He did not recognize that the only reason he was doing this was because he burned to have his father’s approval. He ached to be recognized as a good ruler, without having realized that he already was.
If only Prince Valerio could see himself through Uric’s eyes, then he would know what the Fae saw when they looked at him. They saw a prince worthy of leadership while they counted down the days until his father’s death.
Why did he think the king insulted him so? Because Valerio had been born to rule the Seelie, while his father got by on fear and cruelty alone.
He had always been that way, even before the fall of their courts.
Valerio had never seen it before, though. He thought the cruelty was new, born of the desire to earn back all they’d lost. Oh, he knew his father was implacable the way kings were supposed to be, but he didn’t know the full extent of it.
That the King of the Fae was no better than the human Emperor of Illyk.
“Say what you want to say, Uric.” Valerio huffed a breath. “We are familiar enough with one another to do away with subtleties.”
Uric made a gentle sound of irritation. He did not like speaking his mind, if only because he learned early on in life that his words could be used against him. But Valerio was his friend.
Even if he was acting more like his tyrant father these days.
“This is a bad idea,” Uric whispered, low enough so only the prince could here. He did not like feeling like others could hear him. Bad enough to have Weylyn eavesdropping on their every thought, he did not want the others to know what he said aloud.
“I know you think so—”
“I know so. Tell me, what will the king have to say about this detour?” His question was met with silence. “Precisely. You know as well as I that he will not be happy about this.”
“I will deal with my father.”
At this, Uric snorted softly, earning himself a glare from the prince. Uric shrugged but didn’t stop walking. “I am afraid this infraction is not too small a thing. He will feel slighted, his ego bruised.” He turned to face his prince and looked him in the eyes. Black on black, though if one looked close enough, they would see that Prince Valerio’s eyes weren’t black at all, but a dark brown with the slightest flecks of gold. “This time, therewillbe consequences for your actions.” He forced his gaze back forward, lest his own vulnerability slip through the already flaying cracks of his armor. “And I pray to Mana you can live with them.”
45
Ice Statues and Shattered Iron
They arrived at the camp just as the sun began lowering in the sky, bathing Illyk in ominous shades that blended into the smog of the sky. Shadows were beginning to spread across the ground, and the lone camp was stark against the landscape. Black smoke billowed from their chimneys, filling a foul taste in the air that stuck against their bodies in a thin, grimy layer.
Ash pressed against Iona’s lips and tongue as she breathed it in. She tried not to gag at the thought of what she was inhaling. Atwhoshe was inhaling. The remnants of what were likely Fae bodies threatening to choke down her throat.
Vines of ashwood twined and twisted across the top of the camp like barbed wire, soldiers manning the walls like at the previous camp. The sentinels walked back and forth, the only sound that echoed through the air was the clattering of their armor against brick and their steel swords against metal.
The proximity of the iron made Iona’s throat itch, but she pushed away her own physical discomfort, even though she couldn’t push away the anxiety. Her fingers tapped against her legs in a choppy rhythm and broken pattern. Only this time, Julius was too distracted to place his hands over hers to calm her. She needed this focus. Needed to trace patterns while she thought of all the possible outcomes and scenarios.
There were Fae in this camp. People they could save. People they could help.
And maybe, just maybe, her sister would be in there, too.
She wasn’t sure what the odds against that were, but she sent up a quick prayer to Mana that she would find answers within those walls.
“No more running off on our own,” Valerio whispered the harsh order, his voice jerking through the shadows. Though he didn’t speak directly to Iona, she knew the words were for her. “We go in together.” He turned to Shula, his lips twisting at a hint of the tenacious malignancy he kept so tightly bound. “Melt the gate.”
“Watch out for the archers,” Julius said, his big hand pointing along the most invisible parts of the wall, where Iona could just make out dark figures hunkering down like specters.
“Good catch.” Valerio nodded in his direction. “Iona, cover above our heads with your ice. Julius, Weylyn, and Ryker will take the front lines, Clay will get anyone that slips past them. The familiars will stay behind and Uric, you will open a portal into every locked room so we can save the Fae.” The prince turned his dark gaze back to the door. “I know they’re there. I can smell them.”
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