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“What is your voice?”

Dammit. We knew so damn little about the sea fae.

Gunnar shifted on his feet, uncertain. “Not skilled enough to say, My King.”

I held my breath. Was it even believable? Did unskilled magic exist in the sea kingdom?

After a suffocating pause, the young king shrugged. “Lack of voice doesn’t seem to have stopped you from scouting well enough.”

“Aye.” Gunnar dipped his chin.

With a wave, Erik turned away, back to his lonely corner of the camp. “You have the honor of guarding him then.”

“Many thanks, My King.”

“We’ll use him as bait at nightfall.”

When Gunnar turned me toward the empty tent from which the fae had taken Harald, I caught the gleam of Davorin’s grin.

He had no intention of honoring the young king’s word.

And that was exactly our hope.

Gunnar shoved me inside the tent with a final, significant glance and stepped outside. It took longer than expected, but soon, muttered voices came from outside the tent. I had my back turned to the flaps, heart racing, when the canvas stretched and another body entered the tent.

“I wondered if you’d be trapped as a little all this time.” Davorin chuckled with a bit of wickedness. “But look at you, the king’s ward is all grown up.”

I turned over my shoulder.

Davorin paused at the edge of Harald’s unmade cot. Blood stained the furs and linens. He’d been killed? No mistake, Davorin had a hand in it. What kept him from killing the boy king? His poisonous blood, perhaps?

“Why do you keep fighting here?” I asked. “You’ve never won. You won’t win. You should’ve lived out your days beneath the sea.”

“Never won?” He chuckled. “Have you lived a happy life, boy? Or have you been locked in a wretched existence to hide from me? The way you all have been fighting to reach this moment, so have I. Now, I am home. My kingdom is restored. Curses are ended. The outcome of our fate rests in our hands. I intend for it to fall in my favor.”

“We hold the gifts of fate.”

He grinned. If Davorin were not so horrid, he would have a comforting face. If he did not have such hatred, he might look kind when he smiled.

He was a tyrant who was ugly and putrid at all angles.

“Gifts of fate.” The battle lord approached me and gripped the ropes on my wrists. “Yes, I know. Thank the gods, these stupid sea fae do not know the things they ought to notice. Like this.”

He yanked the queen’s ring off my finger with such venom it scraped the skin, drawing blood.

“I’ve seen what this can do. Was that the plan, boy? Bring your fated royals through shadows to you?”

My jaw tightened.

Davorin smirked. “I wonder what would happen if I brought them to me.”

He slid the ring on his finger. The runes along the edges glowed in a vibrant flame. Davorin removed his hold on the ropes and studied the ring.

“Many thanks, boy,” he said. “I’ll ready the sea fae. We’ll watch for those shadows and meet them when they arrive.”

“It’s a good plan,” I said. “But it’ll never work.”

Davorin’s steps staggered a bit. His eyes widened. I hoped he sensed the heaviness by now, I hoped he knew something was shifting inside his blood.