Page 45 of Quicksilver
Everlayne’s expression became troubled. “And that might be true. Fisher has certainly never believed his father was responsible. But without any proof to the contrary, Belikon announced that Finran was to blame. Less than a year later,Belikon announced his engagement to my mother. By all accounts, she was surprised, given that she'd never evenmetthe king, but Belikon made it clear that marrying him was the only way for her to prove that she wasn’t a traitor to the crown, too. Plus, Finran had been very wealthy, and Belikon needed money to pay for the conflict breaking out with Sanasroth. Belikon informed my mother via royal herald that she was to report to the Winter Palace, and she was to bring all of her assets and money with her. Rusarius still talks of how furious the king was when she arrived with Kingfisher in tow.”
“He didn't consider a son from a previous marriage an asset?”
Layne’s laughter sounded flat. “Not even a little. He wanted a son of his own, and as quickly as possible. He didn't want Kingfisher as his heir by marriage, but it took a long time for my mother to fall pregnant again. Fae children are a rare gift. Most couples are lucky if they have even one child. Belikon thought Fisher had'used my mother up.'He actually said that once. He still insists that when our mother did fall pregnant with me a long time later, it was Fisher's fault that she wasn't strong enough to produce another male heir. His fault that she wasn’t strong enough to survive the delivery, either. Her pregnancy with me was difficult. None of her healers were surprised when she passed shortly after I came into the world, but Belikon...” Everlayne shook her head sadly. “According to the king, everything’s always Fisher's fault. But our mother's death wasn't because of him. It was because of me.”
“It wasn't anyone's fault,” I said. “Women have died in childbirth since the dawn of time. Human or Fae, it makes no difference. The child can never be held accountable.”
Layne had probably heard all of this before. She just nodded, stroking her hands over the blanket she'd placed on the back of my reading chair. “How did you know Fisher wasn't Belikon'sillegitimate son?” she asked. “He's had enough affairs over the years.”
That one was easy. “Because, illegitimate or not, no father would hate their own blood the way Belikon hates Fisher.”
“Yes, well…” Layne's jaw worked as she stared unseeingly down at the blanket. “You're right about that. Anyway!” She inhaled, straightening as she came back to herself, shedding the heavy topic like it was an oppressive robe. “I'm going to fetch us something for breakfast. When we're finished eating, we'll head up to the library.”
She left, and I sat myself down on the edge of my bed, relieved that I was alone at last.
Annorath mor.
Annorath mor.
Annorath mor.
Kingfisher had told me to listen to the Quicksilver, and I'd heard it. I couldn'tstophearing it. The voices in my head were gone. They'd vanished as soon as the quicksilver had stilled, but thatphrase. I kept repeating it to myself, over and over again, as if it were the answer to a question I didn't know how to ask.
Annorath mor.
Annorath mor.
Annorath mor.
Kingfisher had responded when I'd said it out loud. He'd been wide-eyed. Shocked, even. He hadn't explained what it meant, though, and the not knowing was driving me crazy.
I dug my fingernails into my palm, applying pressure to the rhythm of those words as they cycled around in my head. It felt almost as if they had replaced the beating of my heart. My trance only ended when a loud knock at the door sundered the silence.
At some point, Layne would accept that I just didn't eat that much, and she'd stop loading up my plate with so much food. She'd slip an apple into her pocket for me or something.That way, even if her breakfast plate were full, she'd still have a spare hand free to open the door with. I grumbled to myself as I crossed the room and twisted the handle, pulling the door so that it swung open as I headed back to the bed and dropped down to my knees, searching underneath it for the shoes I'd kicked off last night.
“Admittedly, I do enjoy when a female kneels for me, but inthisparticular case...”
I was reaching, arm stretched out, fingers catching on the heel of my shoe underneath the bed, but the moment I heard that voice, I went stiff as a board. Blood rushed to my cheeks as I drew back and sat up on my heels, glowering up at Kingfisher. “You aren’t welcome in here,” I informed him.
His lip was even angrier and redder than it had been yesterday afternoon. In his hands, he carried a large wooden board stacked high with all kinds of cured meats, cheeses, fruit, and at least three different kinds of bread. He wore an inordinate amount of armor—twice as much as usual. His shins were covered by black greaves embellished with golden rising suns, their rays spearing upward toward his knees. Matching vambraces covered his wrists. He looked down at himself, his mouth twisting into a cold smile when he caught me looking at his upgraded armor.
“You like it?” he purred. “I figured some extra protection was in order this morning since you're now given to hurling yourself at me like some kind of rabid feline.”
“Cats scratch,” I said flatly. “I camethisclose to knocking you on your ass.”
“In your fucking dreams, human.” He kicked the door closed, strode into the bedroom, set down the pile of food on the small table, and then went to all three of the tall windows in the room, ripping the curtains closed at each as he went.
I got up and followed after him, drawing the curtains open again. “What are youdoing?”
“I'm hungover,” he announced. “The sun is trying to crack my skull open, which is making meveryunfriendly. But please. Feel free to open the curtains.”
How did you even kill a Fae warrior? Did you need a special weapon? Could they be poisoned? I made a mental note to ask Rusarius—the old librarian was bound to know. Scowling deeply, I went back and revisited the windows, drawing the curtains closed again. “I meant, what are you doing here? In my room?”
“I'm not allowed to eat in the library, apparently. And, unlike Layne, I don't have my own assigned wing of the court. After seeing how niceyourrooms were yesterday, I figured I'd come and eat breakfast here. Don't worry. I brought you some cheese.” He picked up one of the small plates that he'd balanced on his overflowing board and planted a massive wedge of hard cheese down on it. In fairness, it looked like good cheese, but the way he shoved the plate at me across the table made my blood boil.
The prick started eating like his life depended on it.
“Rusarius said no cooked food in the library. All of this is cold. Take it and go and bother him.”
