Page 22 of Storm of Desire
Thick lashes obscured his eyes. "One could say the same foryou."
Yes, but I have a reason.Her hand went to the ring around her throat. It was dangerous to wear it here, but some last hint of defiance within her had seen her slip the chain over her head before she left herrooms.
"And the entire court's been expecting you to set a date for theceremony."
"The entire court?" he mused. "Oryou?"
They paused before the enormous gold doors. Through them she could make out the hush of muted voices. Over a hundreddrekiwaited, her mother chief amongthem.
Anticipation stole her breath. She didn't know why she was so nervous. "If we both said we didn't wish to mate, then my mothermight—"
"Find an alternative," he said softly. "Would you preferRoar?"
She shook her head violently. "No. I'd prefer no one. I'll rescind my position before the court. If I step down as my mother's heir, then she'll have no choice but to name you. We wouldn't haveto—"
"Árdís."
"We...." She saw his expression, and the words—and the hope within her breast—trailedoff.
"Your mother's waiting," he said, "and she's not very happy about it. Something about insisting I should have made you fly back toHekla."
"I wanted to take the portal," she replied, her teeth bared in what she hoped was a smile. The bracelet remained upon her wrist, despite her best efforts. "I had something to see to in the servants’quarters."
He shrugged. "Your head. But I do not think this the time to broach the subject of calling off ourarrangement."
He isn't sayingno.
They could discuss this anothertime.
Árdís took a deep breath. "Let us go greet Mother then, and find out what this is allabout."
* * *
"You're late,"the queen whispered the words to her on a thought-thread as Árdís paused before the dais."Sirius claimed he had to fetch you from the humantown."
Hundreds of whispers hushed as Árdís pasted a smile upon her face and knelt before the queen. At least the manacle didn't restrict her psychic abilities."I wasn't aware you were going to insist upon an audience. There was a necklace Iwanted."
Amadea reclined upon her golden throne, her hands curved over the ends of it. Golden waves tumbled down her back, and her face was as smooth and unmarked as Árdís's own. They could have been sisters. Perhaps eventwins.
But the glittering green of her mother's eyes held a cruelty she could nevermatch.
"Stellan," the queen murmured, turning her head toward her youngerbrother.
Árdís lifted her eyes as her uncle strode forward. Wearing the same unadorned black as his son, Stellan was the power behind the throne. With Amadea's magic, and his might, there was no hope in overthrowing them. As he stopped in the center of the dais, the crowd fellsilent.
Árdís hastily moved to the right side of thequeen.
"Bring forth the prisoner," Stellanboomed.
The line of warriors shifted, and a pair of them dragged someone between them, his knees scrabbling on thefloor.
This was the part of court life she hated. Árdís steeled herself. Ever since her father—the rightful king—had been murdered, the court had begun to spiral into dark depths. Her mother and uncle were members of theZilittuclan from Norway, and ruled not with her father's sense of law and fairness, but with the crushing might offear.
Heads turned. People strained to see who it was. A woman cried out, clapping a hand to her mouth. "No!"
Then the two warriors—Balder and Ylve—threw adrekidown before thedais.
No, not adreki. Adrekling. Árdís felt ill. Children could be born betweendrekiand humans, and though the child might bear some of itsdrekiparent’s powers, the further the bloodline bred, the weaker the blood became. It had become tradition for mortal mothers to make the treacherous trek up the slopes of Hekla and leave their unnatural children upon the doorstep to the court, a tradition started by her father who welcomed all. The court was filled withdreklings—those withdrekiblood who were unable to shift forms and soar through the skies. The queen saw some use for them, but Stellan didnot.
