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Chapter 31

IRIS

Theon shed his armor, replacing it with a loose navy tunic tucked into dark trousers. His long hair was pulled halfway back, accentuating the sharp cut of his jaw.

My own silver gown matched the delicate embroidery along his sleeves, and I’d twisted several pieces of hair away from my face while smudging a layer of kohl around my eyes.

Hair down, Iris.

Be smart, Iris.

Don’t draw attention, Iris.

I could hear my mother’s lilt repeating in my head. I ignored it.

Instead of leading us to the small dining room off the main kitchens, Theon took us to the eastern wing. While the western wing housed the queen’s offices, the meeting hall we had first visited, and the healers’ quarters, the eastern wing was far better suited for formal celebrations.

A massive crystal chandelier glittered in an open ballroom to our left—the most opulent room in the entire palace. Theon guided us to the right, where heavy oak doors were flanked by two guards, their royal status marked by the sky-blue mantles adorning their shoulders, the Kacidon crest pinned above the adage of Altaerra.

Protect the Wild. Preserve the Unseen. Pursue the Unknown.

Oh, how far we’d fallen. The sentiment behind the mantra was hardly valued anymore.

Land destroyed. Sacred mysteries of the world exploited. Misunderstood magic forbidden.

“Ready?” Theon’s voice was gentle, prodding.

I rubbed my thumbs across my forefingers, feeling the magic there crackle against my skin. After spending the entire afternoon weaving small braids at the tree line—far from anyone who might get caught in the crossfire—it was only slightly less erratic.

I straightened my posture, lifted my chin, and nodded.

The entire room was ice. Pillars, sculptures, fountains—every surface carved from it. Sunflares flickered in glacial lanterns, illuminating the long, gilded table in the center.

Queen Genevieve and King Anduin sat at the head of the table, directly across from the doorway and their son. To their left was a man with golden-brown hair and amber eyes. Beside him, draped in an even more delicate gown that matched her hair, sat Deyanira.

Theon embraced the queen warmly before taking the seat beside her. That left the space between him and Aspen as the only one available for me.

The moment we lowered ourselves, staff appeared with overloaded trays, filling the center of the table with silver platters. An enchanted harp began playing in the corner, its soft melody easing some of the tension from my shoulders.

Despite the ice covering every surface, the room was surprisingly warm. Several fireplaces crackled, their smoke curling through the air, yet the frozen décor remained untouched. The only true chill came from the guests at the table.

“Iris.”

Queen Genevieve’s voice carried as the others began gathering food onto their plates.

“We appreciate your presence. It’s been quite some time since we’ve had a new guest at one of these dinners.”

“The invitation was generous.” I nodded, debating how quickly I could bring up the Blight Lotus without seeming vastly impolite.

“And you look quite lovely in silver.”

Queen Genevieve’s smile was conspiratorial, as if we were sharing some esoteric joke. I had no idea what it was. I winked anyway.

When I turned, my gaze latched on to Aspen’s, reminiscent to the looks we exchanged in the library. Except, this stare was deeper. Darker. It lingered a moment too long.

“I can’t take credit for the choice,” I cleared my throat. “That was all Deyanira’s doing.”

Deyanira scoffed, her silk-gloved fingers wrapped around the stem of her glass.

“How lovely.” The queen smiled at her lady-in-waiting. If she was aware of Deyanira’s abhorrence of the task, she didn’t show it.

“I don’t believe you have met Dante Leoven,” she gestured to the man beside Deyanira. “Deyanira’s father is our royal advisor. His son usually attends as well, but his duties as commander of the royal guard have kept him away.,.”

At the mention of his superior, Theon stiffened. I tore off a piece of bread while I studied him. The tension in his features was a rare sight.

“Nice to meet you.” I smiled politely. The resemblance between Dante and his daughter was uncanny—particularly in the way he glared at me.

Beside him, King Anduin stared down at his plate, eating with blatant disinterest. I couldn’t recall ever hearing the man speak.

“Genevieve, it is foolish to continue delaying.” Dante’s sharp tone cut through the air. The queen’s expression became one I had seen on her son far too often—icy and imperious. She looked down her nose at him as he continued.

“It is prudent we revisit the matter?—”

“No.”

It was not the queen who spoke. Nor the advisor.

Their children had answered in unison, wearing matching glares.

“I beg of you not to disrupt my dinner, Dante.”

Queen Genevieve’s voice was deceptively light, but her gaze was unyielding.

Waiters returned with another round of wine, but Genevieve did not shy from Dante’s scowl. She held his stare, her smile unwavering, until he bent his head and grabbed his cup.

“Now,” she said, lifting her silver goblet and turning her attention to me. “What is it you would like to discuss, Iris?”

I passed her the scroll containing my findings and explained as she read—the necessity of the Blight Lotus, its location in the Bedry Caverns. The further she scanned down the page, the more her striking features fell, a stark contrast to my own reaction upon learning the information. Worry gnawed at my chest when she remained silent for several long moments, staring down unblinking.

“From what I understand, you need access to the Bedry Caverns. Which lie in the Tundra,” Genevieve began, head snapping up. The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Whatever had flickered across her expression was gone, replaced with her usual poise.

“That part of our lands is quite dangerous, and there have been... incidents.” She winced noticeably. “Events that have led to the implementation of wards and spells, shielding these areas from the public. Only members of the Kacidonian guard and the royal family may pass through them now.” She took a breath, steeling herself. Her hands trembled slightly as she continued. “We do not allow passage to visitors.”

Disappointment clenched my gut. But maybe, even if I could not go, someone from the guard would be permitted to make the journey. Theon, maybe? I preferred harvesting my own materials, but I didn’t care who waded through snow so long as we were able to gather this ingredient.

“Despite this,” she continued before I could suggest an alternative, “your actions in Marikaim proved your dedication to ensuring a cure is found for the Malum. I am willing to grant you access. On one condition.”

Dread prickled up the curve of my spine. Was she planning to incur another life debt? Maybe Aspen had revealed my Threader magic, and now she couldn’t resist sinking her claws into that, too.

Hadn’t my mother’s been enough?

I nodded slowly, careful not to commit.

“I would like you to compose a field guide for our healers.”

Of all the demands I’d braced for, that wasn’t one I’d anticipated.

“Surely there are plant species native to Kacidon that would be of use to them. I would also like you to teach them some of the more fundamental techniques of your work—perhaps that revitalizing tonic you provided recently?” She looked hopeful. It suited her. “It is high time we let go of certain…traditional limitations.”

A field guide. Not unlike the one I was already compiling for my personal collection. It was a request for help, yes, but also a show of faith—in alternative healing methods. In my work. In what I prided myself on. For Kacidon, it was a turning point.

It was hope.

Despite the relief coursing through me, I didn’t miss the look Dante cast toward the king.

“I’ll need time to compile everything,” I said, straightening in my seat. The trepidation began to ease. “But I’ve already started a sort of draft. You’ll need to procure additional supplies depending on how many participants there will be. I can leave a list…”

Queen Genevieve nodded as she passed the rolled parchment back to me.

“And I’ll need to research the conditions of the Tundra. I’ve gathered some information on the wildlife, but?—”

“No need to worry. Aspen will be going with you.”

I blinked. The hells he will. The tenuous truce between us would never survive another journey together.

I’d bring the poison for myself this time.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” I blurted, “I’m certain he is extremely busy, and if I study the maps for a few days?—”

The queen’s expression turned stony.

“ Iris. No one is allowed in the Tundra without an escort from the Kacidon Guard or a member of the royal family.”

I swallowed, realizing how close I was to overstepping.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, it’s only…” I hesitated. “Surely the prince has more pressing matters to attend to. Especially after spending so long away in Marikaim. Surely a member of the guard would be suitable—perhaps Theon?—”

She chuckled softly. “I can assure you, he is the best man for the job. Aspen knows the Tundra better than anyone in this realm.”

Aspen finally broke his silence, his voice barely more than a harsh whisper. “ Mother …”

Genevieve continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Besides, he could use some excitement in his life.” She looked pointedly at her son before returning her attention to me. “You can continue to teach him what you’ve tested so far, so that he may assist you with your work once you return.” The last part of her statement was not addressed to me.

I swallowed my reply, feeling Aspen’s discomfort radiating off him in waves. I couldn’t blame him. I wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of being isolated with him again either. With everything that had come to light in Marikaim, he had every reason to mistrust me.

I couldn’t change what I’d done before.

And I refused to change what I was doing now.

He looked as if he’d rather be anywhere but here.

“However,” Genevieve continued, dabbing her lips with a cloth napkin, “you will need another companion. My son’s bloodline will grant you access to the Tundra, but the Bedry Caverns are heavily guarded. The wards are intricate. You’ll need to be accompanied by a Threader. A skilled one.”

Goddess above, could nothing ever be simple?

I weighed my options. Lux’s gift bound many of the strongest Threaders to Solyndra. Perhaps the one chosen for the task would have no connection to the Sunchosen, but…

There were no guarantees.

There was also no certainty I could unravel a ward of that complexity anymore.

Or, more importantly, that I could keep my Threads controlled while doing so.

My essence wasn’t shallow. A scale ready to tip at the slightest provocation. But it had been a decade since I trained formally, much less untangled a ward not of my own making. Not to mention the almost complete lack of using my Threads for the past several years. Until I’d come to Kacidon, that is.

What was I willing to face? What was I willing to learn ?

“I’ll do it.” I stepped forward. “I am a Threader. I can handle the ward. I’m sure of it.”

The advisor studied me skeptically.

“Interesting.” Genevieve’s grey eyes darted between me and her son. Was it confirmation of something Aspen had already told her? Or suspicion of what he might have hidden?

“Then I believe there are no further concerns.”

The tension between Queen Genevieve and her son was suffocating, shrinking the room, pressing against my ribs. The silence became deafening.

“Well, since that’s settled,” I interjected, trying to temper the growing strain, “when do we leave?”

Genevieve’s expression softened, light returning to her gaze. “Normally, I wouldn’t wish to rush a task of this magnitude, but we can’t afford to wait. You depart at sunrise. I will have the steeds prepared.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

I turned to Aspen planning to lighten the mood—to mend the delicate fabric of a friendship we’d clawed holes into before it had even finished being woven.

All attempts at civility were cut short as Aspen nodded curtly at his mother, lips set in a firm line, and strode from the room, slamming the door behind him.

“That’s a record for a family dinner,” Theon leaned toward me. “He usually doesn’t make it past the second glass of wine.”

The queen sighed. “Call me Genevieve, dear.”

The softness in her voice surprised me.

What had changed since my arrival to sway her sentiment?

Her eyes lingered on the door Aspen had fled through, concern tightening her features.

“And Iris?” she added. “Take it easy on him.”