Page 23
Story: A Lord of Snow and Greed
For a moment, he looked like he’d argue further, but when no one came to his aid, when no one tried to convince me it was a bad idea, he sighed. “Fine. Vidar and Sayyida, ready sailors at the docks in case things turn sour.”
“We’re heading to the docks now,” Vidar said and strode off, his sister a half step behind him.
Vale turned to Sian and Filip. Both Balik males had been watching the conversation with quiet thoughtfulness.
“I’m coming,” Filip said before Vale had a chance to deny the youngling. “I’m your squire. That’s what I’m here for.”
“And another warrior would not be amiss,” Sian added.
“I was going to ask if you’d help scour the castle for Clawsguards.” Vale rolled his eyes at his squire. “And if you insist on coming, wear something more appropriate to a fight. You too, old friend.” He inclined his head at Sian’s flamboyant attire.
“Too much?” Sian grinned, and it transformed him from stoically handsome to devastatingly charming.
“Gold won’t protect you from fangs like steel and fighting leathers.” Vale chuckled dryly. “Not even that much of it.”
“House colors, my friend. I can’t help it if the royal house doesn’t embrace theirs as we Baliks do.” He wiggled his fingers, each sporting a shiny gold ring that gleamed against his skin.
Vale shook his head in amusement. “Meet at the gates in an hour?”
“We’ll see you then.” Sian clapped a hand over Filip’s shoulder and the pair left.
Alone with my husband, Vale turned to me. I expected him to be upset that I’d forced my way into this dangerous outing. Instead, he met my gaze with a steely one of his own.
“And you will need trousers and as many stakes as I can strap onto your body.”
Chapter 7
VALE
Istrode down the bustling streets of Avaldenn, Neve to my right. At each of our sides were Sian and Filip, dressed in fighting leathers embellished with impractical but impressive gold-plated steel on the chest, back, and shoulders. Their wings, both honey-brown, were vanished, though I wasn’t sure if that was because they wished to keep them secret from the vampire sailors or to better protect their wings. As added protection, a contingent of twelve armed Clawsguards surrounded us.
Sayyida and Vidar would have had plenty of time to rouse sailors to be on the lookout for trouble. And yet, I worried.
Not for me. Nor Sian or the Virtoris siblings, or even for lanky Filip, who had been undergoing magical growth spurts more often lately. No, my concerns were with Neve. I’d urged her to wear leathers for protection. That protection was hidden beneath a thick royal blue cloak. She was also armed with two daggers and six stakes, two of them ash. Though I doubted there was another royal vampire in the kingdom to use the ash wood stakes on, but one couldn’t be too careful.
I shot my wife a sidelong glance. Was it enough? If she was among the fallen, it would mean that all we’d done was for nothing. I wished for her to stay safe within the castle walls, but she’d been so bleeding insistent on coming, and truly, I couldn’t deny her. Prince Gervais Laurent was dead at her hands. Her wish to be present when we told Gervais’s ship to leave was well within her rights.
Perhaps the ship would adhere to the code for diplomatic vessels and leave peacefully. Perhaps I would have nothing to worry about.
I wasn’t holding my breath.
“It snowed more last night.” A hint of a wobble touched Neve’s tone, the first indication that she might be nervous. “After we slept, I mean.”
I didn’t bother telling her that I hadn’t slept a wink. The city of Avaldenn was used to snow and great frigid gales of wind coming in off the Shivering Sea, but she was right. It had snowed quite a lot.
In the narrower side streets, fae were still either shoveling or using their magic to move the snow to the sides. Fae had been likely working on it since the small hours.
“It only stopped right before the king called everyone to the throne room,” Sian said, an unimpressed expression on his face. “It was an odd storm. Only lasted about five hours but some are saying this is the most snowfall the city has received in that short a time.”
“Are there storm clouds on the horizon?” I asked, intrigued.
“None,” one of the Clawsguards replied. Two others echoed his words.
We were nine days from the tenth moon. Early for the most intense winter storms to begin. Usually, I paid little attention to the weather. However, with Caelo on the run and the distinct possibility that my wife might need to escape the city in the coming weeks, that had changed.
I didn’t trust my father when he said he wouldn’t harm Neve. Perhaps he wouldn’t today, or tomorrow, or even a turn from now. But one day, he would unleash his wrath. King Magnus did not allow slights to go unpunished.
My father hadn’t always been cold and cruel and unpredictable. Growing up, I’d idolized him. He’d always loved his children and treated us well, but as I turned from a youngling to a grown fae, I began seeing his flaws. Like how he flaunted his harem and whores around Mother. And then there was his insatiable lust for power.
“We’re heading to the docks now,” Vidar said and strode off, his sister a half step behind him.
Vale turned to Sian and Filip. Both Balik males had been watching the conversation with quiet thoughtfulness.
“I’m coming,” Filip said before Vale had a chance to deny the youngling. “I’m your squire. That’s what I’m here for.”
“And another warrior would not be amiss,” Sian added.
“I was going to ask if you’d help scour the castle for Clawsguards.” Vale rolled his eyes at his squire. “And if you insist on coming, wear something more appropriate to a fight. You too, old friend.” He inclined his head at Sian’s flamboyant attire.
“Too much?” Sian grinned, and it transformed him from stoically handsome to devastatingly charming.
“Gold won’t protect you from fangs like steel and fighting leathers.” Vale chuckled dryly. “Not even that much of it.”
“House colors, my friend. I can’t help it if the royal house doesn’t embrace theirs as we Baliks do.” He wiggled his fingers, each sporting a shiny gold ring that gleamed against his skin.
Vale shook his head in amusement. “Meet at the gates in an hour?”
“We’ll see you then.” Sian clapped a hand over Filip’s shoulder and the pair left.
Alone with my husband, Vale turned to me. I expected him to be upset that I’d forced my way into this dangerous outing. Instead, he met my gaze with a steely one of his own.
“And you will need trousers and as many stakes as I can strap onto your body.”
Chapter 7
VALE
Istrode down the bustling streets of Avaldenn, Neve to my right. At each of our sides were Sian and Filip, dressed in fighting leathers embellished with impractical but impressive gold-plated steel on the chest, back, and shoulders. Their wings, both honey-brown, were vanished, though I wasn’t sure if that was because they wished to keep them secret from the vampire sailors or to better protect their wings. As added protection, a contingent of twelve armed Clawsguards surrounded us.
Sayyida and Vidar would have had plenty of time to rouse sailors to be on the lookout for trouble. And yet, I worried.
Not for me. Nor Sian or the Virtoris siblings, or even for lanky Filip, who had been undergoing magical growth spurts more often lately. No, my concerns were with Neve. I’d urged her to wear leathers for protection. That protection was hidden beneath a thick royal blue cloak. She was also armed with two daggers and six stakes, two of them ash. Though I doubted there was another royal vampire in the kingdom to use the ash wood stakes on, but one couldn’t be too careful.
I shot my wife a sidelong glance. Was it enough? If she was among the fallen, it would mean that all we’d done was for nothing. I wished for her to stay safe within the castle walls, but she’d been so bleeding insistent on coming, and truly, I couldn’t deny her. Prince Gervais Laurent was dead at her hands. Her wish to be present when we told Gervais’s ship to leave was well within her rights.
Perhaps the ship would adhere to the code for diplomatic vessels and leave peacefully. Perhaps I would have nothing to worry about.
I wasn’t holding my breath.
“It snowed more last night.” A hint of a wobble touched Neve’s tone, the first indication that she might be nervous. “After we slept, I mean.”
I didn’t bother telling her that I hadn’t slept a wink. The city of Avaldenn was used to snow and great frigid gales of wind coming in off the Shivering Sea, but she was right. It had snowed quite a lot.
In the narrower side streets, fae were still either shoveling or using their magic to move the snow to the sides. Fae had been likely working on it since the small hours.
“It only stopped right before the king called everyone to the throne room,” Sian said, an unimpressed expression on his face. “It was an odd storm. Only lasted about five hours but some are saying this is the most snowfall the city has received in that short a time.”
“Are there storm clouds on the horizon?” I asked, intrigued.
“None,” one of the Clawsguards replied. Two others echoed his words.
We were nine days from the tenth moon. Early for the most intense winter storms to begin. Usually, I paid little attention to the weather. However, with Caelo on the run and the distinct possibility that my wife might need to escape the city in the coming weeks, that had changed.
I didn’t trust my father when he said he wouldn’t harm Neve. Perhaps he wouldn’t today, or tomorrow, or even a turn from now. But one day, he would unleash his wrath. King Magnus did not allow slights to go unpunished.
My father hadn’t always been cold and cruel and unpredictable. Growing up, I’d idolized him. He’d always loved his children and treated us well, but as I turned from a youngling to a grown fae, I began seeing his flaws. Like how he flaunted his harem and whores around Mother. And then there was his insatiable lust for power.
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