Page 35 of Courting the Fae Captain (Romancing the Realms #4)
‘He calls me little lark. I’d never admit it to him, but I like it. And as the weeks go by and my walls begin to crumble, I find myself wondering if this little bird might find herself ensnared by a snake.’
Journal excerpt, Aeris Lockhart
“ N o fucking way,” Raithe said as he placed white-knuckled hands over the back of a chair in his rooms the next morning. “There’s no fucking way you’re going tonight.”
I sighed as I combed my fingers through my hair from my position curled up in the nook by his bedroom window.
It was the next day, and we’d argued all morning, but had yet to find a solution to our latest conundrum.
It turned out Jaren’s ‘problem’ was a night of frivolity that the Pentad had decided to drop on the castle staff with no warning whatsoever.
A gentlemale’s club, of sorts, with invitations sent to only the most elite of guests.
Raithe had informed me such events weren’t uncommon, but the reason for the meeting … that had made my stomach drop.
The only staff who’d be providing service tonight were those serving meals.
A select handful of females would be doing the rest, and I happened to be a chosen one of them.
I’d received the note requesting my participation earlier today, left beside my door in a black box tied with red ribbon.
Inside was the dress I was to wear tonight, if it could even be called such a thing.
It was little more than a slip of sheer black material.
More like a dressing gown, except it would hide absolutely nothing.
The lacy undergarments provided alongside it were laughably flimsy, something that only a male could find appealing.
The final item was a small, glittering black mask that covered the upper half of the face.
The costume was clearly yet another way to objectify and demean females.
Or potentially humiliate us and rattle our confidence.
Seeing as it was only the most supposedly bride-worthy females invited, I didn’t put it past the Pentad to use this as a way to remind us we were beneath them, no matter how well we did in the Rite.
Raithe had growled—actually growled like a cornered animal when he saw it. He’d pretty well acted like a grumpy bear since I’d come to his rooms.
“They’ve timed it this way on purpose, before I could announce a favourite and the protection that affords …If anyone touches you, if a single male lays a hand on your flesh, I will take my blade and make ribbons of their skin.”
When had he gotten so violently protective? Something primal inside me liked the ferocity of his words. If it had come from anyone else, the words would sound possessive and petty, like a child unwilling to share its toy. But it felt right that he was the one saying them.
“They won’t,” I said calmly. “Because you’re going to attend. And you’re going to keep me safe.”
Jaren folded his arms as he leaned against the wall.
He’d accompanied Raithe to my bedchamber and been quiet during most of our discussion, letting the captain get his anger out.
Since we were all together, and he could be trusted, Raithe and I had informed Jaren about the riddle my mother had left, along with what Raithe had learned from the book he’d borrowed.
I wasn’t sure when we’d gotten cosy enough to be so open about our intentions, but I didn’t question Raithe’s judgement.
“She’s right, Raithe. If she doesn’t go, the consequences could be great. They’d know you favour Aeris and would likely use that against you before the Yule ball. Besides, Killian is on the guest list. He can keep watch.”
“No.” I shook my head. “Don’t drag him away from his duties. Finding Raithe’s mother and the other females is far more important than one night of me serving nobles. Any progress on that, by the way?”
Jaren’s jaw tightened. “Nothing. Killian busted a few slave holdings in Domeratt, but there has been no trace of Lady Windaire.” His eyes shifted to me. “I can’t make sense of the riddle your mother left, but something tells me she’s closer to home than the city.”
I nodded, thinking of the way my father never allowed my mother to stray far.
Lord Windaire was likely much the same with his wife, even if he was the one who’d sent her away.
“He’ll want her close, so that if any threat arises, he can get to her quickly.
What other villages are around here? Fishing ports or strongholds? ”
“There’s an outpost between the castle and Cormoral,” Jaren said as he scratched his chin. “We’ve been focusing our efforts on the north, but maybe we should send some patrols down south. Spread wide enough to search any caves or hidden outlets along the bluff.”
Raithe nodded. “Search the bluffs and scout the outpost, but there’s no need to look beyond … My father despises pirates. Given Cormoral’s affiliation as a hub for foreign ships, there’s no way he’d send her there.”
I fell silent while they discussed logistics and finished with my hair. As they talked, I drew my mother’s note from my pocket and uncrumpled it. I must have read the lines over 50 times by now.
Go to the place where wooden teeth lead to still waters and look not at the ground but what’s beneath it. There you will find them at the beginning of the end.
What lay beneath the surface? In a physical sense, she could have meant roots, soil, or sediment.
I’d even considered bodies, fossils and, ultimately, bones.
Was it a hint about necromancers? Perhaps something a Bone Weaver might understand?
But then … that was a stretch given we were in the Shadow Court and Bone Weavers were rare in this province.
I had dismissed the idea entirely, but maybe it was worth revisiting.
I’d considered the idea of a graveyard, but even then …
our kind burned our dead to prevent others from reanimating them for nefarious purposes.
Did she mean a different kind of grave? My mind caught on the words ‘wooden teeth’ as I looked out the window to the crashing seas beyond.
I stared at that gods awful island we’d been sent to and thought of all the things we’d endured there …
and then it hit me. The rowboats that took us across had to navigate the ruins of shipwrecks lost to war and the whims of the sea.
Wooden ships, their masts and prows looking like sharp teeth ready to cut the boats of any unseasoned sailors.
Ships that had sunk below the surface. What was not on the ground but beneath it?
The sea was deep and took you beneath ground level.
The answer was the bay. The bay that led to a natural prison.
I still didn’t understand the end of the riddle, but this had to be it.
“Oh my gods,” I said as I slowly stood. Any discussion quietened as two sets of eyes landed on me. “I know where she is. Where they all are.”
I turned again, looking at the dark and stormy skies as rain began to pelt down on the window. Raithe’s presence came up behind me, his hands warm and sturdy as he planted them on my shoulders. I didn’t need to say the words as he followed my line of sight.
“The island,” he said in a low voice.
“It’s the perfect place,” I said softly. “Nowhere to run, no way off the island, and a veil that blocked females from using their magic. I think they’re underground. Perhaps in a cave system or a hidden bunker of sorts.”
“It fits with the riddle. She’s been right in front of me this whole time,” Raithe said. Something in his tone wavered. I turned and took his large, calloused hand. “I’ve been looking for her—for all of them—in all the wrong places.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Jaren said, coming up to look out the window.
“I should have known,” Raithe said. He took a breath and closed his eyes. “All these years spent in his shadow, observing his every move, but he’s still always one step ahead.” Raithe’s shadows curled out, as if enacting the rage quaking through him.
I placed my hands on his face and reached up on my tiptoes. “Look at me.” The pressure from my fingertips turned his head just so until he could only see me. “You’re going to find her, and we’re going to save her. She’s going to be okay.”
He blinked, then placed his hands over mine before dropping them from his face. He gazed out the window once more and sighed almost regretfully. “We are going to find them. But not yet. Let’s get through tonight, then we’ll see about freeing those females.”
I smiled softly. “I imagine the females might be a little pissed to see the lord’s son looking back at them when we do. Especially when his father might very well be one of the Pentad.”
Raithe smirked, and I felt my heart breathe a sigh of relief at the dark humour in that one subtle gesture. “Good. I’m counting on it.”