Page 79 of A Sword of Ice
He was her prince and he deserved respect and reverence. Iona was merely a fisherman’s daughter, a poor girl from the Jade Court who, if not for this, would have otherwise never had crossed the Seelie Prince’s path. Yet she deserved to be heard. After being silent for so long, she needed to say it. And after missing for so long, he needed to hear it.
“They are being tortured for their magic, either to prolong the emperor’s life or give him more power, and you will turn your backs on those who cannot help themselves?”
She felt Julius’ hand reach for her shoulder, pulling her back. It was how she’d realized she’d been stepping closer to the prince, her voice rising in anger. Uric had discreetly slid to his prince’s side, his blade clenched tightly in his hand as if he meant to protect Prince Valerio from Iona.
She took a breath, though it did nothing to calm her, and stepped away from him.
“They deserve to know their prince cares enough to free them,” she said. “As a royal, it is your mission—”
“My mission,” he interrupted, his voice dripping colder than her ice, sharper than a blade, deadlier than the sweet scent that emanated from his body. “Is to ensure the safety of the Elementals. Not to prove or disprove a theory given to you by someone named George.” He sneered the name, like it tasted too human on his lips.
“But—”
“I am prince and commander of this group.”
Magic pulsed around them, darkening, frightening. Images and shadows flicked around the edges of Iona’s vision. Her heartbeat sped up, her fingers twisted into the material of her pants as she moved them. Fear was prominent, suffocating, and she felt herself begin to hyperventilate.
“I will reiterate only once more.” His voice rose like thunder booming. His features changed, shifted, and he became something akin to a monster. “We are going to find the Elementals, not go on a useless chase through the emperor’s iron camps. As soon as we make it to shore, you and Shula will lead us to the third Elemental.” He stepped forward and Iona flinched, an involuntary whimper prying from her throat, and she hit something solid behind her. “And you will not ever fucking question my authority again.”
36
A Prince with Too Much Heart
Madness crept along the edges of Prince Valerio’s mind. It was a weakness he would not show, and even as it threatened to cripple him into fragility, he walked away with his back straight, pulling the images of shadows and monsters back into himself.
He hated that he had to be this type of ruler. A ruler who used fear and magic to be obeyed, but it was what he was becoming. What he’d always been. A mere boy among men, like his father and king so cruelly liked to remind him.
He tried to tell himself it was for the good of the entire group. They could not afford to go on a wild chase across Illyk at the behest of Iona, because of a conspiracy theory they didn’t even know was true or not.
And she was pushing. In his experience, those who rose and pushed for their own selfish reasons without thinking of the consequences could become mutinous. He’d had to shut down her ideas as quickly as they formed.
Not many understood what it meant to rule. The needs of the many always outweighed the needs of the few, and he’d been given his orders, besides. Orders straight from the king. To find the Elementals. Beyond that, nothing else mattered.
Not even his people, locked away in iron camps.
His steps almost faltered as he stormed below deck, the darkness creeping in, making his movements faster, more eager as he rushed to be alone.
Fuck!
His foot came in contact with a wooden stool and kicked it against a wall where it tore to pieces like the vestiges of his own sanity.
Fuck!
His entire body trembled until he felt like he was losing control of everything. The price he was forced to pay for using his magic was temporary insanity and he never knew in what form it would take hold. Sometimes it was in bouts of anger and violence, sometimes hysteria, and sometimes he would lie there in a comatose state until his mind slowly returned to him.
This time, he felt it in violence and hysteria.
Laughter bubbled up in his throat even as he automatically reached for the second stool and picked it up with his trembling fingers to smash it against the wall. Broken bits pelted against his face, but he barely felt it beyond the uncontrollable sway of his body.
His hand curled into a fist and he smashed it against the metal of the boat, splitting his knuckles open. He hit it again and again. Blood and skin flew, and he laughed as his bones began to crack against the boat.
And then he felt a strong pair of arms wrap around him from behind, pulling him away from the destruction of his hands. Valerio was hauled to a steadily breathing chest. Soft strands of white hair tickled his cheeks and he struggled against the hold, doing nothing but making the Fae behind him grip tighter.
“Let me go, Uric,” Valerio ordered between manic laughs.
Uric did not listen.
“Calm yourself, my prince.”
