Page 140 of A Sword of Ice
Iona watched like it was a spectacle as he took a deep breath, smoothed his palms against his shirt, and turned to face them all.
Death had a way of hollowing a person out. It was what Iona felt when she’d discovered her sister’s execution. She and the prince were clearly not made from the same cloth.
If anything, death had made his dark eyes more vivid. They looked dark brown, rather than black, and they danced with all the violent things he so obviously wanted to do.
His gaze swept across the line of them, taking in their current state of what was left of Castle Aileach.
Ryker slumped against the ground with Shula looming over him as he breathed in fresh air free of poison.
Clay and Weylyn stood off to the back; Clay worrying at his bottom lip, Weylyn’s fingers stroking along the fur of the cat against his shoulders.
Julius held tightly to Iona against the ground, while her familiar leaned against them.
And Uric had fallen like a sack filled with potatoes straight to the ground. His hair fell from his shoulders like slices of ribbons, and he groaned but made no attempt to move.
Prince Valerio swallowed as he seemed to memorize their features. Haggard and broken down, hope and magic depleted.
His gaze came to a full stop on Weylyn. The golden Fae must have known what the prince was silently asking because he shook his head back and forth slowly, flicking his long braid over his shoulder and holding the end with his ringed fingers.
“I cannot,” he said. “The connection was severed.”
Iona was familiar enough with his magic to guess what that meant.
If there was no connection, then it likely meant the king was dead.
Emotions warred against Valerio’s features, and everyone kept quiet, giving the monarch a chance to process everything that had happened.
“How did the humans find us?” he asked finally.
“They should not have,” Clay whispered. “Castle Aileach was supposed to be safe.”
“Nowhere is ever safe,” Iona cut in. “Don’t you understand that? It won’t be. Not until we battle the humans and earn our freedom instead of hide in the shadows.”
“Any hope we had of building an army has just been decimated,” Clay whispered gravely. “Fighting them is impossible now.”
Shula lifted her head. “Not impossible, just very,verydifficult.” Though Iona didn’t think she sounded convinced.
The hope that had blossomed in her chest during that vicious battle was subdued within her.
She hadn’t been fond of the king. He’d seemed cruel, vicious, yet it had still been Valerio’s father. And all the people they’d just saved? Her heart ached for them. To be freed from one prison only to find themselves at the end of a blade, crushed beneath rocks.
Tears burned behind her eyelids and threatened to fall, but she held them back. There would be a time to mourn their losses, but it wasn’t now.
Emotions swirled inside her and had her standing to her feet. She wobbled, her gait uneven as she went to Prince Valerio. When she was before him, she dropped to her knee and bowed her head.
There was magic in the gesture. Or maybe it was hope ringing to life again inside her despite everything. Like it was just a part of her now, something she didn’t think could ever die.
“I am with you. I will fight for you, whatever you decide. My magic is yours.” The words felt right. Like sliding broken pieces home where they belonged, and they clicked into place. “I will be your sword when your arm cannot carry your own. I will be the hope when yours has died out. I will be the magic when yours has depleted.” She dared a glance up at him through silver lashes. “I am your warrior, my king.”
Prince Valerio staggered back like the words were a physical blow that threatened to gut him. The truth often felt like that.
Iona would know.
“My king.” Julius kneeled next, bowing his head beside Iona, burying the hilt of his sword in the earth. “I will follow you to the death.”
One by one, the Fae kneeled before their new king.
Clay.
