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I anticipated a bit more landsickness, but the young king held his head high as Niklas strategically took a bit of the boy’s blood.

Erik Bloodsinger sneered at the Falkyn. “Boils in the veins. Sort of makes folk froth at the mouth right before it fills their lungs with blood.”

He nodded at the blood on the Falkyn’s blade. Niklas was bold, but even the Falkyn lead knew how deadly the king’s blood could be and dropped it into one of his vials with care.

“This elixir I’ve created will ward the Chasm against you, boy,” Niklas explained. “You’ll never step foot in our realms again, understand? Your people are to be locked in your kingdom for good.”

Erik never lost his arrogant, boyish smirk. “We’ll see.”

My stomach turned when the sea fae captives were brought before every royal seat on the dais by the shore. Sick that our only captives were two boys. Battle worn and hardened, but boys abandoned by their own people.

Cousins, yet they didn’t look at each other, they hardly seemed to acknowledge they were not alone. I wasn’t certain they even cared for each other, despite sharing blood.

Stieg led Erik Bloodsinger through the center of the crowds, Halvar led Harald’s son. Either he’d been injured in the battle, or still bore a wound from his torture at the Black Palace, but the limp to the king’s leg was noticeable and Stieg knew it. Where the warrior could’ve shoved the boy to the ground, he let Erik lower to his knees of his own accord, in his own time.

When the Ever King lifted his head, a bit of twine slid from beneath his dingy shirt. At the end was the glimmer of a charm—a silver wing of a bird in flight.

Well, damn.

One glance at Livia standing between her mother and father, and it was obvious the girl was the most unsettled of us all. She couldn’t even lift her gaze to look at the young king.

Harald’s son shook Halvar’s grip off and the First Knight allowed it.

We’d discussed how to proceed in the early hours of the morning, but in truth, the way all my royals, the way Silas and I, hesitated, I wasn’t convinced any of us knew how to go about this. Sol and Tor looked squeamish whenever they glanced at the Ever King.

Everyone but the young royals knew what Erik Bloodsinger had done for Tor.

“What is your name, Harald’s son?” Ari was the first to speak.

The boy didn’t speak until Halvar nudged his shoulder.

“Tait,” he rasped. “Tait Heartwalker.”

“These names, Bloodsinger, Heartwalker,” Ari muttered, then looked back to the boys. “Tait Heartwalker, a royal of the Ever—”

“I serve the House of Kings,” Tait snapped. “I do not claim the seat.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, nor do I truly care. Truth be told, boy, I’m tired. I’m wholly tired of this fighting. I’d like to simply rid our shores of any enemies and go home to my magnificent palace, and live out my days with my stunning wife, and delightful daughter, undisturbed.”

Ariwastired, we all were. Now, the Golden King would begin to ramble.

Saga took hold of Ari’s hand, looking like she might be fighting a grin too. Instead, she addressed the enemy fae. “For raising blades against our folk, we banish you to the Ever Kingdom. Should you rise and walk upon our lands again, boy or not, you will not be shown such mercy.”

Tait kept his red gaze steeled on the ground.

Silence went on long enough I began to squirm in my seat. At long last, Valen rose from his seat. He strode toward the young king.

Erik Bloodsinger never looked away.

“You did not challenge me, boy. Was that not your purpose for being here?”

“The opportunity was taken . . .” Erik said, his crimson eyes flicked toward Torsten before he returned his smug smirk to the Night Folk king. “By other things.”

“You must wait ten turns again? Remember, we spoke already of that temperamental power. Perhaps it will not want you.”

“I suppose we’ll find out.”

“It won’t happen,” Valen said. “As we’ve already said, the sea fae will never rise through the Chasm again. We will ward up the barriers between our worlds.”