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Erix nodded, already backing out the door. “I will wait for you outside and keep him occupied.” He looked everywhere but at me for too long. “Shout for me if you need anything.”

With that, Erix went as quickly as he came, bowing at me almost too formally, as he swept out of my chamber.

My muscles were stiff as I changed into an outfit one of Lockinge’s seamsters made for me, as per Eroan’s measurements. I felt bad refusing it when I was informed they’d worked night and day to have it ready for me.

The black shirt was buttonless and clung to the narrow shape of my torso. The collar was pointed on either side of my neckline like the tips of Icethorn’s tallest mountains. Gold thread had been woven into patterns across my chest, similar to the design on the decorative cloak that I clasped to my overly-padded shoulders.

It had been a long time since I had dressed in anything so fine. Eroan had given up making me lavish clothes when I stopped leaving Imeria. Or at least given up showing me them. My hope, for my duration here, was that no one noticed that I looked as much as felt like an imposter in fine silks and velvet. My reflection in the grand mirror – for all intents and purposes – was that of a king. Even a modest box waited for me, with a replica of the ice-tiered crown I left back at home.

I heard voices beyond the door to my rooms which made me pick up my pace. Before I left, I made sure the silver circlet across my brow was even, ensured my boots were laced tight and the lower parts of my trousers tucked neatly inside. I’d present as a put-together man, with exhausted eyes and a body affected by weeks of worry. Which meant I’d have to put on a rather convincing show when I faced the people waiting for me.

Erix stood vigil at the door, silently stewing beside Zarrel. Neither man spoke to the other when I interrupted them. The tension was so fragile a feather could’ve sliced through it. The white-winged Nephilim straightened his posture at my arrival, the gold and white armour made him look wider and taller than he’d appeared last night. But compared to Erix, he looked like a boy playing dress up.

“Good morning,Your Majesty,” Zarrel said, although the last two words sounded more like a bite. “I trust your bed was comfortable enough for you last night. Because if not, please do let me know, and I can arrange suitable modifications for you.”

I swallowed hard. There was no point pretending the bed was fine, we all knew I hadn’t slept in it for long.

“It will do just fine,” I said, offering him a smile. “I do not plan to stick around for long.”

“That would be a shame,” Zarrel added with a sly glint to his eyes.

I swallowed my distaste for the man, focusing on the important matter at hand. “Have you come to give me some good news about Rafaela, or express your interest in my sleeping arrangements?”

Zarrel’s smile flattened, lips drawing into a straight line. He ignored my initial comment. “Nothing of note regarding Rafaela yet, but the day is still young and much can change.”

Erix refused to add comment, his pale lips proof of tension. It took effort not to lose myself in the way Erix looked, with the symbol of my court decorating his metal breastplate, the swash of dark grey cloak split in two places to allow his leather wings to fold into his back.

“I was just explaining to your guard here, that if we’d known you’d prefer to share a room, the accommodation would’ve been provided as such,” Zarrel said, slightly bowing his head. It wasn’t a sign of respect, but more a way of showing off the golden hammer – Rafaela’s hammer – strapped between his wings. “However, if all is well, may I suggest we get moving,”

Blood leached from my face.

“And asIexplained,” Erix began, fists balled at his sides. “The movements and needs of the Icethorn King are not his concern.”

“I slept in my own room, Zarrel,” I added, feeling the need to explain myself for no apparent reason.

“You are our guests,” Zarrel explained, sweeping his gaze between us. “Your comfort is of the utmost importance to us. It was only that your personal guards informed me that you were seen walking into Erix’s room last night. I meant no offence with my questioning.”

“Then you should train them better because theyclearlymissed my return only moments later. Which, if I admit, worries me. Anyone could come and go without you knowing, clearly,” I said, knowing full well that Seraphine had got into my chambers, and no one had noticed.

Zarrel’s posture stiffened enough for me to notice. “Then I will make arrangements for tonight, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you,” I said, forcing a smirk, aware that if this conversation didn’t end soon, Erix may give in to the gryvern side of himself, and pluck the feathers from Zarrel’s wings with his sharpened teeth.

Zarrel turned on his heel, sweeping a hand for us to move. “Please, if you are both ready, would you kindly follow me?”

I shot Erix a glance, eyes widening in silent warning.Don’t act out. Then I followed Zarrel, his long strides making me skip a step to catch up.

“Back to my initial question, Zarrel. Is there a reason as to why no news about Rafaela is ready to be given to me?” I asked

“Yes, in fact there is.”

My scowl deepened. “And?”

“AndCassial would like to discuss the matter with you himself. But first, a banquet has been put on this morning to welcome the four fey courts under our roof. I will take you there to eat and refuel. Cassial will meet you there shortly after.”

“I’d like to speak with him sooner, as a matter of urgency.”

Zarrel stopped so suddenly I almost barrelled into the back of him. “Pardon me, King Icethorn, but as you can imagine, Saviour Cassial is very busy arranging the final amendments to the peace treaty’s paperwork. The ceremony begins tomorrow, and before that there are necessary meetings to be held, signing of papers and the drafting of a highly important accordance which will – if you have not already worked out – truly bring the fey and human realms together, uniting them once and for all.”