Page 117 of Liar Witch

“What the fuck?”

She rolls her eyes at me, and for the first time I notice the head of dark hair in her lap.

Kier. Still fucking twitching.

I bet the bodies are all fae. A quick glance at their ears confirms my suspicions. “Great. Just great.” I grind my teeth together in frustration even as ropes descend from the ceiling and start collecting dismembered corpses. “Fucking fae need to stop pulling this shit unless they’re going to take over doing cleanup.”

Nilsa’s eyes have frosted over. “You knew as well?”

“You think after sharing a ship with him for over a hundred years there’s a chance that I wouldn’t know? Give me some credit, I’m not completely stupid.”

She mutters something, but I ignore it in favour of checking him over. “Iron this time,” I observe. “I’ve got a salve for that somewhere.”

I bend and scoop Kier up. Transmutation circles flare on my arms as I lean on my magic to help. For a fae, he’s a heavy bastard. For the thousandth time, I wonder how those delicate wings manage to keep him aloft when he flies.

The door shivers and shakes away the ice as I approach, swinging open without me even expending that much effort. The last of the corpses are disposed of before I step foot in the corridor, but the room is going to take a little more work. The witch might have to share with one of the others for a while while I try to get the fluids out of everything. Unless she has a spell for that…

“You knew,” Nilsa repeats. “Yet no one thought to mention he was a prince with assassins after him?”

“If we’re talking about keeping secrets, you might want to stop the self-righteous act, witch. If you’ll recall, you’ve not been exactly forthcoming.”

“He’s royalty.”

I snort. “And I suppose Klaus isn’t?”

I know for a fact that none of the others have brought their ‘status’ up with her. Not out of any deliberate deception, but honestly because it doesn’t matter to any of us. Rysen’s clan is dead. Cas and Nos are in self-imposed exile. I’d rather slaughter every mage I come across than battle my uncle for my grandfather’s seat on their corrupt little council.

My retort doesn’t keep her silent for long. “It’s not the same. Klaus hates his title. He wanted to be free of it.”

“Maybe it’s exactly the same,” I grumble, pushing open the door to Kier’s cabin.

A rope drops from the ceiling, dropping his sword into its place on the stand he keeps for it. His room is sparsely decorated. Only a handful of mementos litter the space. The rest is military neat, and the way Nilsa looks around makes it clear she’s never been in here before.

I drop the fae on his bed and hold my hand out to catch the little pot of salve, which drops out of the ceiling. I bought it on impulse a long time ago, but Kier’s so careful about iron that it’s never been needed before now. I rip his shirt away and slather it on the wounds, watching with satisfaction as the dark, twisting lines spreading out from them slowly disappear.

The tension in his body lessens bit by bit until he could be sleeping.

Good. He’s out of danger. His immortal healing will take care of the rest, even if it is slowed because of the metal.

Now to deal with the witch.

“I’m only telling you this to spare him the pain of trying to explain it himself,” I begin, holding her gaze. “I only know because he wrote it down for us when he first came aboard.”

Her stiff nod tells me she understands what I’m not saying. Kier doesn’t like to talk about it.

“His family exiled him. Yes, he’s a prince, but he’s third-born. He’s never had an interest in the throne, and the Winter Court has never had a use for him beyond a political marriage which dissolved when he was cast out. His brother sends warriors after him every few decades to make sure he’s not building an army in this realm to try to take the throne. But for the most part, he’s an afterthought to them. A piece of old gossip. He prefers it here.”

“He tried to say that, but the curse…”

I run a hand through my hair with a grimace. “He’s never done this before.” Fuck, we didn’t even know hewascursed until she came aboard. “I don’t know how long it will be until he wakes up.”

“I think, I’ll wait here.” Her eyes soften as she looks down at him.

That’s not a bad idea. I slide down to the floor, my back against the bed, and close my eyes.

Even then, I can practically hear her silent question.

“Just in case any more of the assholes are lingering nearby,” I mutter with a scowl. “The fae are sneaky bastards.”