Page 148 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
Okay, if I’m honest, neither did I, but that’s neither here nor there, really.
Sure, it’s not the easy vow I’d hoped for, nor a declaration of devoted loyalty, but I’ve done what we came for. Given the harm these three fae have done to Drystan, they’re lucky Danu didn’t just smite them.
“Oh.” I turn on my heel, finding the three royals still gathered around the throne. “I want Torrance Lyarthorn. He’s here somewhere, or so I’m told. Find him and have him put in the dungeons.”
In my peripheral vision, Bree stiffens.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Cedwyn grates out.
“Already done, Nicnevin.” Hawkith’s bland smile and half-bow have my hackles raising for no reason. “I had my people arrest him on my return.”
“Good. I’ll deal with him tomorrow.” I turn back to Drystan. “Do you have a room here?”
“Kitarni arranged for us to stay with your brother before we left Elfhame,” Drystan adds. “Prince Roark’s mate is a duchess, and her citadel apartments are at our disposal.”
Thank the Goddess. Calimnel may be cold, but at least within the ice walls that awful wind is gone, and I can feel my toes. Once we escape the frozen stare of the Froshtyn King and his Iceblyd mate, perhaps my breath will stop misting in front of me.
Forty-Four
Rhoswyn
The roads of Calimnel are full of people walking a little too slowly to disguise their gawping. Inside Calimnel is a warren of tall, intricately carved ice buildings, each one home to hundreds of fae, with snow-covered cobbled streets connecting them all.
“Praedra, if you and your mate would like a place to yourselves while we’re here, my apartment in the noble district is big enough for two people.”
I look up at Drystan in shock, but he merely shrugs. “It’s only for a few days.”
It is? I bite my lip, suddenly very unsure. I’m not sure we ever discussed what comes now. I have all the vows of allegiance—well, aside from Eero’s—so what’s next?
Do we blink back to Elfhame? Accompany the Winter Army to the city?
I’m still musing about it when Prae and Gryffin split off to find Drystan’s old rooms, taking with them their quiet banter. My Guard and I leave the more populated streets in favour ofascending a hundred stairs. This isn’t the place to ask my mates, not when I get the feeling a hundred ears are just around every corner listening for gossip.
It’s only when a door a few paces away swings open and a familiar face smiles warmly from within that I start to relax.
Roark is much the same as the glamoured fae made him out to be, but there are tiny differences. Laugh lines and longer lashes—the sort of thing someone would never notice unless they were wrapped up in a bone-crushing hug from him, as I swiftly am.
“Welcome, Nicnevin. This is my mate, Rowena.”
The female beside him looks as exhausted as I feel. Her hair has been swept up into a hasty braid, and there are damp stains on her clothing that remind me a little too much of my mortal sister-in-law, Clair.
“Forgive my appearance,” she sighs. “We only just got word that you’d arrived, and the twins are?—”
As if on cue, a wail sounds from behind her, and a second later, a second joins in.
The female before me flinches, and her mate grasps her shoulders, massaging them.
“Why don’t you go and clean up,” he suggests softly. “I’ve got our little warriors.”
“I swear to the Goddess,” Rowena mutters, leaning up to kiss him. “Withstanding the forty-eight-day siege of Saradil’s Plateau wasn’t this much work. Please, excuse me, my lady.”
“Just Rose,” I say, crossing the threshold so the rest of my mates can enter. “Infants are a lot of work. I’d be happy to help, if you’ll let me.”
Rowena bites her lip. “I couldn’t ask?—”
“We can make supper,” I suggest, following them into the spacious living area. “Or watch them while you two get some rest.”
Which is exactly how, two hours later, I find myself sitting on a plump sofa, burping a tiny fae infant with my brother’s dark hair and his mother’s dark eyes.
