Page 7

Six

Rhoswyn

“ S till no news from Florian?” I ask as we gather around the war table in Calimnel the day after interrogating Caed. It’s relatively quiet. Ashton, Prae, and Gryffin are the only other fae here besides my Guard and me.

“Actually…” Ashton begins, then trails off, glancing down at his hands with a deep sigh.

Jaro stiffens, his arms tightening around my waist.

“Word came from Orvendel,” the winter king finally admits. “The survivors made it through the tunnel, and there weren’t many of them.”

“Do we have names?” Jaro asks, his voice cracking.

Oh Goddess, his mother and his sisters were all in the city, and his brothers were knights.

“We don’t have a list of the fallen, but most civilians are said to have been evacuated. Florian and most of his knights stayed behind to get as many fae out as they could.”

A subtle whine permeates the room, vibrating against my spine, and I rub his arms soothingly. Both of us are worried about the ones we love, and we’re not the only ones.

“Stupid, noble fucking fairy prince—” Prae begins, but Gryffin shushes her.

“We’ll get him back, sweetheart. Then we’ll give him shit for getting caught in the first place.”

“Oooh, if you’re spanking the knight commander, can I watch?” Lore asks, from his spot hanging from the ice beam above us. “He did stick me in a dungeon, after all. I’ll pay double if you use a wooden spoon!”

“What the fuck?” Gryffin mutters, even as Prae rolls her eyes.

“No, redcap. You can’t. And a spoon? Really? I’m not here to fulfil your peasant fantasies. You have your own mate for that.”

“That’s nowhere near as funny.” Lore blinks down to kiss my cheekbone, blinking back so fast that I doubt anyone else even noticed.

A nauseating cocktail of fear and amusement battle within me. I can only imagine the headaches my steadfast eldest brother will experience, dealing with both Prae and Gryffin, but he has to be alive for that to happen.

“Rescuing Florian, and any other captives, is our main objective,” I say, breaking up their byplay. “Elatha likes to parade his toys around. There’s a good chance he’s still alive.”

The way I was forced to attend all of those sickening gatherings in Fellgotha supports that theory, at least.

Rescue Florian, fulfil Caed’s orders, and reclaim the city. Seems easy enough—not.

“Troops from my court are already marching to Orvendel as we speak,” Ashton says, and a snowflake-shaped piece on the map glows softly in answer.

It’s enchanted to follow the troops in real time, but depressingly, they’re not even halfway down the mountain yet. Fortunately, the flower token representing Spring is already by the great lake, along with a pillar representing the Temple Guard, with Cressida’s leaf shape steadily skirting around the city to join them.

“What’s happening in Siabetha?” Drystan demands, and I lean back even farther into Jaro’s strength as the dullahan paces the length of the table. “Torrance must’ve found his way back by now.”

No one has forgotten the other threat on the board. Summer’s rebellion means we can’t take all of our forces to Elfhame, and everyone is concerned that Eero will rush to Elatha’s aid.

The summer king didn’t strike me as a foolish male. I can’t see him trusting the Fomorians. Nor can I really see him rushing to their side unless something in the bargain compelled him to.

“The palace has been locked down,” Ashton says, frowning at the Fair Isles in the far corner of the map. “There have been stirrings, but nothing concrete, and no sign of an army on the move—which is difficult to hide. Unfortunately, Ced only had one good bard on his payroll, and he killed the fucker when Hawkith slept with him.”

Goddess, even from beyond the grave, those two are still causing problems for us.

“Outside of the palace, the citizens are unhappy,” he continues. “The Temple has been refuting Eero’s claims at every turn, and most fae support the Nicnevin, even if their king doesn’t. I’m tempted to say leave them to it. If he has to battle his own people, he’ll be too busy to interfere.”

“Send a messenger to Aiyana and Cressida,” Drystan orders a page by the door, who rushes to obey. “They have their own spies.”

It’s a good move, and I make a mental note to send Mab to see what she can learn, too.

“Eero’s a fool if he thinks Elatha will leave him to rule Summer alone,” I mumble.

“They’ve made a bargain,” Drystan says. “I’d bet gold he believes the Fomorians are too dumb to wheedle their way out of it. It’s a typical arrogant seelie move.”

“He promised them my death,” I remember, thinking back to when Caed and I caught Ciara and her father in the hall while we were rescuing Bree. “We overheard Eero saying that the bargain would be null and void if they didn’t kill me.”

I lived, so what now?

“Bargains are rarely ever so simply ended,” Ashton advises. “Surely even the Fomorians have the brains to include a punishment clause for failure to uphold terms.”

“We have no idea what my father’s rat heard,” Bree pipes up, his arms wrapped around himself as he leans against one of the ice walls, as far from the table as he can physically be while remaining in the room. “He could even have been involved in negotiating terms between Hawkith and the Fomorians. I should’ve realised?—”

Breaking free of Jaro’s hold, I cross to him, pressing my hand to his lips. “You can’t blame yourself. It was Cedwyn’s lax security and Torrance’s own cunning that led to his escape.”

He kisses my fingers, promising, “I’ll make it right.” Then he pauses and drops his voice, his wings wrapping around us in a private feathery cocoon as his fingers bracket my hips. “Kitarni introduced me to one of the priestesses with a gift for empathy today. Our sessions are short, because they take a lot out of her, but I’m hopeful…”

My answering smile is equal parts relief and delight as he finishes by pressing a kiss to my temple. I think what happened with Hawkith scared my púca, but it was the push he needed to finally start working on healing everything the Toxic Orchid did to him.

“Elatha isn’t stupid,” Prae hisses, dragging us out of our little bubble.

I turn, peering through the gap in his feathers to find her glaring at Ashton over the table. Her fingers are wrapped around the hilt of her knife, which is buried in the wood in front of her.

“He sent Draard to deal with Eero, and he bargained with Hawkith. For some reason, he’s willing and confident enough to concede land to them as long as it helps him take Elfhame City. He won’t give two shits if Draard dies as a result, and our cousin is cocky enough to enter into multiple fae bargains for a chance at glory.”

“I guess it’s a family trait,” Drystan mutters lightly under his breath.

I shift away from Bree’s embrace to stare him down.

“Caed is nothing like Draard,” I retort. “Draard is truly vile.”

All of them bristle, and my púca ducks his head to whisper in my ear.

“Did he hurt you, dragonfly?”

I shake my head. “He scares me.” Jaro’s wolf growls at the admission. “Draard whipped Caed until he passed out, and he laughed while he did it.”

Nothing will ever make me forget that dark, smoky hall, or the sight of Caed’s shredded back dripping with blood on the floor.

One of Drystan’s brows rises. “They whipped their precious crown prince?”

“If you think that title comes with any kind of preferential treatment, you don’t know shit about Fomorians,” Prae grunts. “It’s been nothing more than a bullseye on his dumb ass since the day he took it.”

“You told us about how you were raised,” I remind Drystan, softening my gaze as I try to get through to him. “Caed’s upbringing wasn’t so different.”

It feels a little like breaking Caed’s trust to tell him that, but my dullahan swallows, uncertainty flashing over his face.

A second later, his mask is back. “That cocky asshole hasn’t ever?—”

“When he came back with her mark, Elatha made him stick his hand in the fire until the skin burnt off,” Prae interrupts. “He was twelve . Then he was thrown into the Deep Caves and left to die. At one point, Elatha tried to feed him to his feral dogs. The king hates his son as much as Cedwyn hated you.”

Drystan finally looks away, his shoulders dropping slightly. “And you want to waltz into the palace alone to face that monster?”

I’m surprised he brought it up. None of my Guard have mentioned my risky plan since I suggested it. I thought they were hoping I’d forget about it.

“That’s not what I said,” I reply calmly. “I recognise the danger, which is why I want the rest of you with me, as a team.” I pause, taking a deep breath as I brace myself for what I know will be our next argument. “As my mates.”

Jaro jerks, the growl of his wolf filling the room, and I rush to continue before he shifts and I lose my chance to convince them.

“I can’t control too many spirits at one time without you. Which means?—”

“No, Rosie.” It only takes three strides for Jaro to reach me, and the second he does, he wraps his arms around my waist and drops his face into the crook of my neck. “Not for this. Not like this.”

His body is practically vibrating against mine, and I breathe in his wood-smoke and leather scent with a sigh.

“Shut up, wolfie.” Lore blinks me away until we’re standing on top of the very important war-map. Dropping his hat over my head, he takes my hands and spins us both until the room becomes a blur. “I accept. Shall we do it now? Someone, find Kitarni! I am beyond ready to be a properly mated male. Really, it’s about time you made an honourable fae out of me, pet.”

I’m still giggling, and the room is still spinning, when Bree butts in, kicking away from the wall to grab my hand and pull me down.

“Jaro’s right. Rose deserves better than a hasty ceremony.”

“I don’t care,” I reply evenly, as Lore begrudgingly releases me to my púca. “I’ve wanted this for weeks . Any other Nicnevin would’ve been mated properly on their twenty-fifth birthday.”

I’ll never admit to them how much it hurt to see other fae with marks and know that I couldn’t have that.

“You’ll be bound to Caed,” Drystan grumbles.

I meet his amber gaze defiantly. “You know why I have no problem with that.”

His throat bobs again as his hands ball into fists, but he has no answer to that, and his father takes the pause as permission to interrupt.

“Calimnel would be honoured to host the mating ceremony of the Nicnevin, but this might be construed as?—”

“Favouritism?” I finish candidly. “You’re the only minor royal who hasn’t tried to kill me, kidnap my Guard, or mess with my court. I think you’re owed a little show of goodwill.” I quirk a single brow. “Unless you have something you need to confess?”

Ashton smiles, and the expression is mildly terrifying. “Nicnevin Rhoswyn, I think you and I are going to be great friends.”

That would be a first.

“Can we discuss this privately?” Drystan grinds out.

Prae is the first one to head for the door, but she captures my shoulder on her way out, pulling me close as Ashton and Gryffin sweep past us.

“If you save my cousin, I’ll take back every word I ever said about not being your friend.”

“Deal,” I whisper, expecting her to look shocked at the bargain.

She doesn’t.

The door slams behind her, leaving me alone with my Guard.

“You deserve a beautiful ceremony, where the entire city can celebrate,” Jaro starts.

“I can still have that,” I reply, facing down my wolf. “Kitarni can do a blessing when the Temple of Elfhame is restored. But if we wait, your powers will remain unstable. It’ll be harder for me to ground the Goddess’s magic, and we’ll keep misunderstanding one another. We’re supposed to be one Nicnevin and one Guard—a unit—and being mates is a huge part of that.”

I’m sure Drystan’s only struggling with the idea because it’s the final nail in the coffin for his plan to kill Caed. If I’m mated to all of them, murdering him will break me.

“At least consult Kitarni about it before you write the idea off,” I insist, silently wishing I’d had the foresight to ask her to come with me. “But Danu has absolutely no objections.” The Goddess is silent in my chest, content to let us make our own decisions. “If Caed takes me into the palace, and we have proper mating bonds, you’ll be able to find me the second anything goes wrong.”

“This is a half-cocked plan,” the dullahan insists. “There will be iron and hundreds of Fomorian soldiers. Caed will be completely unable to defend you, or worse, we may have to protect you from him.”

“I trust you,” I say simply. “Besides, if I’m already mated, Elatha can’t use me to legitimise his claim to the throne of Faerie. I’ll be safer than I ever was before, and more powerful. So will you.”

He’s not looking at me, but he pinches the bridge of his nose in a way that suggests I should back off, so I let him think it over for a second and turn to Jaro and Bree.

“Is your only objection that you think I want a bigger ceremony? No—don’t look at each other like that. Just answer me.”

The two of them stop midway through some silent conversation.

Bree breaks the silence first. “You’ve had to settle for so much. Nothing about your reign has been as it should. The war, the years in the mortal realm, your iron sensitivity, your fever… Even your Guard is far from perfect.” He looks away sharply. “You should at least have the perfect mating celebration.”

Jaro nods emphatically. “Exactly. You should have your family there, and?—”

I launch myself into his arms, claiming his lips with my own to shut him up before doing the same to Bree, but much slower, so as not to spook him. Of course, Lore can’t be left out and drags me away from my púca seconds later.

“I want to mate you, all of you.” I turn back to Drystan, bracing myself for more resistance. “And I know you can help me make this plan work.”

His nostrils flare. “You’ll be stuck with Caed, even if Elatha orders him to hate you for all eternity. There are huge ramifications to being mated to someone who’s lost their name. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Growing up watching Ashton and Cedwyn’s fucked-up relationship has definitely left an impression on him. But this isn’t the same.

Caed won’t be under Elatha’s thumb for much longer.

He’s mine . I’ll drive the point home to his father with every ghost in Faerie if I have to.

I take a deep, steadying breath, working to calm the instinctive surge of possessiveness that’s half me, half Danu. “I know. I trust you to keep us both safe.”

He huffs out something that sounds oddly like half a laugh. “That makes one of us…”

Is he going to say yes? I know my hope is shining in my eyes, and I can’t bring myself to hide it.

Drystan starts to pace, and Lore’s cap morphs on my head, becoming a bridal flower crown with a scarlet lace veil that obscures my vision, forcing me to lift it to watch them.

“Cut it out, redcap.” Drystan paces away from us again, waving his hand in aggravation. “If we do this, there are serious security?—”

“That’s a yes!” Lore cheers and actually tries to hug Drystan. “He said yes.”

“I said ‘if’!” Drystan shoves him away with a look of distaste. “ If is not yes . Can you watch Rose live a life of misery, mated to a male who tries to break her at every turn? You saw what that did to my mother and Cedwyn.”

Reluctantly, I abandon Jaro’s arms and catch Drystan’s hand. “You don’t have to say yes,” I tell him, because it’s true, he doesn’t.

It’s not just me trapped in a relationship with Caed if this ends badly. I won’t condemn them to that if they have reservations.

“But,” I continue. “I think Hawkith and I are very different females.”

Or at least, I really, really hope we are. No part of me wants to be anything like her.

Drystan runs a hand through his braids, messing them without care as he sighs. “This may be the most selfish thing I’ve ever done. Fine. But before we do that, I want a solid plan for every second we spend in Elfhame?—”

“Yes!” Lore has a knife out already, the blade pricking his skin before Jaro yanks it away.

“Not now,” the wolf snarls. “The Fomorian isn’t even here.”

My redcap pouts, then blows a raspberry as he flings the knife in my wolf’s direction. “Urgh, if you’re boring, just say so.”