Page 116 of A Sword of Ice
Fae started dispersing, being led from the foyer and up the staircase to their rooms. When it was empty, with no one but Iona’s original companions and a few stray Fae by the fire, a far door opened and brought in the cold along with a group of High Fae.
Julius’ hand tightened on her waist, but she couldn’t gauge if it was in warning or not.
The group approached, the male at the head of them was the one that caught Iona’s attention, because his whole demeanor commanded it. It was in his posturing that screamed, “Look at me. I am power here.”
He radiated it. Not magically, though she felt the smallest wisps of some Mana-given gift emanating from him. It was more in his stance, in the devastating expression he wore that was familiar.
She knew this Fae.
She’d seen him before, sitting on his gargantuan, black stallion, wearing the beautifully bright colors of the Seelie Court while he commanded in the war. That had been her first and last memory of King Amos Ashera of the Seelie Courts.
Now here he was again.
His beard was dark, long, and braided with golden gems. His hair was pushed back, his clothing of fine make, but obviously worn with age. He had the same grave features of his son. Except where Prince Valerio wore a staid, almost subservient expression, his father wore one that bespoke of killing rage.
“Boy,” the king addressed him, the tone of his voice disrespectful enough to make the Fae behind him appear uncomfortable with the acknowledgment.
Iona had always respected royalty, yet there was something almost abnormal about him. Something mocking in the way he said the word, and it made her hackles rise.
She knew that this moment would come. When she would see the king and her actions would reflect badly against Valerio. She felt the premonition of the moment slide deep down her spine, and it filled her with dread.
“Your Majesty.” Valerio swept into a graceful bow that the others—Uric, Weylyn, and Clay—mimicked. Even Julius pulled her down by the waist into a much less elegant version of one.
He kept them there, frozen in that moment until Iona’s back began to cramp.
“Rise.” The word tore through them powerfully, and Iona was grateful to stand, but less grateful to find the king’s gaze on her instead of his son.
She wanted to wither under his attention, but she found it within herself to tilt her chin up high.
The king’s eyes flashed, as if he didn’t like the way she was staring at him at all. It was not to be purposefully disobedient to royalty, but to establish her own worth within their circle.
Even if she’d fucked up and had been chasing delusions her whole life, she was still an Elemental. She was not born of royal blood like them, but she was still powerful in her own right and deserved the respect her position entailed.
“So, you’re the Elemental,” he crooned, his lip pulling back with what looked like distaste.
“Iona Wylde, Your Majesty.”
“Hmm. Very well, then.” He dismissed her easily, turning back to Valerio. She almost breathed a sigh a relief to have his attention diverted from her, then but recoiled when his eyes narrowed on his own son. “Boy, I will have words with you and your…” he sneered in Uric’s direction. “…right hand.”
Then he was turning, a sweep of billowing cloaks following behind him like phantoms. Valerio and Uric trailed a respectable distance behind as they disappeared down the door from where they came, the king’s own group staying behind.
Iona caught a flash of nervous energy emanating from them. That worried her. If the king had gone off by himself with Valerio and Uric, it meant there wouldn’t be an audience.
She hadn’t known him that long, but she knew cruelty when she saw it. It lived in the eyes of Petey, in the eyes of the jailors on the West Isles. It was something that was too familiar.
Guilt crawled up her throat, and she hauled in a breath. It was her fault Prince Valerio found himself in this position. If she hadn’t been insistent, if she hadn’t been stubborn and disobeyed…
“There is nothing you can do,” Julius whispered in her ear. “It is something he must deal with on his own.”
“Right…” But it still didn’t let her breathe easier. If anything, it hurt more.
As if sensing her thoughts, Julius dug his fingers into her waist and tugged her away.
“Let’s go,” he said. “Let me show you around Castle Aileach.”
* * *
Valerio could hearhis father’s heart beating in his chest. It pounded a rapid, furious rhythm, and Valerio found himself measuring the seconds with the beating of that black heart.
