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I’d been made aware that the Nephilim had been hard at work at repairing relations between the humans and the fey. There were talks of a wedding or some other grand event to be hosted, but for whom had yet to be agreed. Regardless, I had no plans to leave Icethorn. Not because I didn’t want to run away from what lingered here, but because I couldn’t risk taking my eyes off it.

I shook myself free. “No. I don’t believe so. Jesibel needs me, and I don’t like the idea of uprooting her from her new life. Think it’s best I stay behind.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. Jesibel had cemented a new life with me, and I didn’t want to leave her. But she was a great cover for the real reason I could not leave Imeria. It was enough to stop Erix, or anyone else, asking more questions.

I took a step away, creating distance when Erix called after me.

“Robin, wait.”

The power he held over me hadn’t waned in the weeks we’d been apart. This time he didn’t need to stop me with the grasp of a hand, the use of my name was enough. After we’d returned to Imeria with Duncan, I’d put Erix in charge of Berrow as its lord, knowing full well it was the only way I could distract him enough so that he wouldn’t discover the truth.

He’d been right, of course, when he’d made the accusation.

“Yes, Erix?” I replied, without turning to face him. I faced the closed doors ahead, the gryvern at its sides doing everything in their power to disappear into the shadows. Altar knew I wished for the same – to disappear.

“How is Duncan these days?” Erix asked the one question that could break me. “It has been a while since… since I last saw him. Believe it or not, I care to know he is faring well.”

It was a question that I knew would come, but I wasn’t prepared for it. “I will pass on your well-wishes, Erix. He’ll be glad to receive them, I’m sure.”

“That hasn’t answered my question, Robin. And you know it.”

I swallowed the bile burning my throat. My heart cantered in my chest, my anxiety close to spilling out physically. “Duncan is getting better each and every day.”

It was a lie. No doubt Erix could sniff it on me.

“The people of Icethorn haven’t seen in him a long while. And those very people are talking. As Lord of Berrow, may I make a request that the next time you visit, you should both come–”

“I have Eroan to council me on the whispers of my people,” I snapped, too late to bite down on my tongue.

Erix followed my remark with silence. It was so tense between us that a knife could cut through it. I wanted to fill the void, to scream and shout and fill the space with the same chaotic noise that haunted my mind.

But it was Erix who spoke next. “Is it a crime to worry about our king and his consort?”

I rolled my shoulders back, taking a moment to put on the mask I imagined a king was expected to wear in an era of joy and peace. “I’m fine, Erix. Imeria is occupying me. Eroan is keeping me up to date on matters.”

Erix silenced me with a glance of his softened silver eyes.

“That wasn’t why I asked, little bird.”

I swallowed the stone in my throat at the use of his nickname for me. There was so much I wanted to say to him, to explain. But, as I told Erix when we last spoke, when he was ready to tell me the truth of what he saw in Duwar’s realm, I too would share mine.

“Please, next time you obtain stores of iron, send word to me. That’s an order, from your king.”

Erix bowed his head, without taking his eyes off me. “I will do as you order, but when the time comes, I will ask why you are in such sudden need for iron, Robin.”

This was his way of giving me extra time to come up with a lie that was actually convincing, proving that he knew something was amiss.

“I didn’t realise a king needs to explain himself to his lords,” I said, hating every ounce of sharpness to my tone.

“A king doesn’t, but a friend does.” Erix won with his reply. “I’m hoping the final dregs of Hunters have been dealt with, but if I catch word of any, you will be the first to know. This peace has been earned, and wealldeserve to enjoy it.”

I couldn’t help but feel as though the comment was aimed at me in a specific way.

“Goodbye for now, Erix,” I said, drawing an end to any more conversation.

He looked beyond me, to the gryvern lurking in the shadows of the corridor.

“Maren, would you kindly see King Icethorn back to Imeria?” Erix commanded, voice as steel as the glow of his eyes. “I do prefer our king doesn’t walk around so exposed to the elements.”