Page 19 of Royal Ransom (Princess Procedural #4)

Taliyah

I followed Basil and when we stepped through the door, we fell a short distance, landing in a dimly lit room.

A light not too far off hit Mav’s unconscious face at a soft angle. He lay flat on his back on the floor. I scrambled over to him on my hands and knees before gently tapping both sides of his face. He’d already been hurt and now this. Had I just killed him by dragging him away from the castle? Should I have called for Astrid instead? Risked a jaunt through more publicly accessible parts of Winter to get him back to the Hollow?

“Mav?” I asked, shaking him slightly. I couldn’t raise my voice above a whisper. God, what had I done? This had been a bad idea. It was really starting to sink in now.

I could lose him.

Maverick sputtered something unintelligible before rolling over. I shook him harder. “Mav, wake up!”

“Wuh? Hm?” He opened one eye and let his mouth fall open. If I weren’t still riding the adrenaline from the chase with the yeti, I might’ve laughed at the ridiculous spectacle he was making of himself.

“I’m up, I’m up,” he said, blinking himself awake. He tried to sit up, but his face blanched white with pain, and he sank back to the ground.

I guided his head into my lap, which earned me a ghostly smile. He didn’t seem to have the energy for anything more strenuous. “Where are we?”

“In Winter, that’s all I know. You’d have to ask Basil for more specifics. I’m as new to this place as you are.”

Basil appeared at my elbow as if I’d summoned him. He paled, which was impressive given his glamour. He looked every inch the Winter Sidhe—white and frosty like a vanilla cone from Stomper’s Creamery.

He shifted closer, examining the wounds. I wanted to lean in and shake him, asking if Maverick would be alright, but I knew better. Basil was the closest thing I had to an EMT. He’d tried to save Morgana’s life with his magic. He’d do the same for Maverick.

Mav winced when Basil pressed gently against the blood-soaked shirt with his hand. “This was done with a Winter-infused blade,” he said as he looked up at me and shook his head. “I can’t heal it.”

“What?” I exclaimed, half-shriek. “What do you mean, you can’t heal it?”

“I mean that this isn’t an ordinary wound. It was inflicted with enchanted steel, infused directly with magic from the heart of Winter. Only a High Sidhe from one of the other courts could save Maverick from that kind of magic. Preferably a Sidhe from Summer. It’s the opposing force, after all.” He paused as he studied me. “But I believe you could do it as well.”

“Me?” I asked, shaking my head as I felt myself shrinking back.

Basil nodded. “You’re one of the rightful rulers of Winter.”

That made my ears perk up. “One of? You mean there’s someone else besides my aunt who could take the throne?”

Basil’s lips pursed. “Perhaps. But we don’t have time to discuss that right now.”

“Right. So…?”

He nodded at Maverick’s wound. “I can’t heal him until Winter has been leached from the wound.”

I pressed a tentative hand to Maverick’s stomach, wincing when he cringed away, his face growing impossibly pale. A small pool of blood was gathering around his body. I’d seen enough crime scenes to know he was in bad shape. Losing even a little more blood could end him.

“He needs a blood transfusion,” I said. “Even if I leached Winter from his body, it would only hasten his death. The cold is the only thing keeping his blood moving so sluggishly.”

“Hard to get a blood transfusion around here,” Basil replied mildly. “Most of us aren’t even the same species, let alone the same blood type. I think my blood would do him more harm than good, though I’m most likely the best match.”

Because Maverick was at least half an Autumn fairy, just like Basil was. That meant Basil was probably the only person in all of Winter who could even attempt to do this.

No... there was one more Autumn fairy who had the right blood type. Possibly the best blood type. And he was part of Mav’s family. Fox. And after I rescued him, he couldn’t refuse me. We’d be even. Yes. I needed to get to Fox. Which meant Maverick had to survive long enough to get that transfusion.

Olwen, help me, please, I called out to the Winter Sidhe side of me. I swear I’ll let you out more often if you just do this one thing for me. I love him. Do you understand? I love him and I need him to survive. And I need you… I need you to make that happen.

I felt silly, thinking at my personified other half. She couldn’t speak in words, only in feelings and impressions. I expected her to ignore me. I didn’t like her, and I was pretty sure the feeling was mutual.

At first, there was nothing. Then knowledge began to trickle in—spells of greater complexity and daring than I would have ever tried alone. When I pressed my hands to the stone floor beneath me, it was instantly coated in a layer of rime. The stones beneath Mav’s body began to rise, creating a dais roughly the same size as his body. Winter didn’t descend on him so much as form a glittering case of ice around him. Olwen wasn’t worried when his eyes fluttered closed and he stopped breathing. She knew he wasn’t dead. He was in stasis, awaiting our kiss to bring him out of it again. It was all too fairy tale for my taste, but if it worked...

Basil watched the scene, nonplussed. “I believe your great-grandmother did the same with a princess years ago. It was the story that was the basis for Snow White, you know?” I shook my head. “Except that was a punishment never meant to be broken.”

“It was the only thing I could think of,” I whispered in explanation. “Mav needs to survive. And I need Fox’s blood or his power in order to heal him.” I breathed in deeply and faced Basil once more. “Will you help me?”

“Of course,” Basil said.

Silence fell between us then, and bustling noise rushed in to fill it. “Do you hear that?”

Recognition lit his eyes as his mouth fell open, agape. Staring out toward the light like it was the face of the gods, he said, “It’s the song of the Winter Sidhe. I believe there’s a celebration going on. It must be Priss’s birthday.”

“Priss?” I echoed disbelievingly. “Who names their daughter Priss?”

Basil leaned his weight into the ice casket that contained my freeze-dried husband and pushed it under a nearby shelf. Only then did I start to take stock of our surroundings. We appeared to be in a larder, surrounded by ingredients for a feast. It made sense. Who was going to look for a lady’s adulterous lover in the pantry? I’d at least start under the bed first. Basil didn’t speak until he’d draped a cloth over Maverick, hiding him from sight. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best we could do on short notice.

“I named her Priss,” Basil answered. “Well, her name is actually Apricity, and she’s my daughter. Not that she likes to acknowledge it. She’s something of a secret, you see.”

It hit me after a few seconds of thought, and I stared at him, open-mouthed. “Oh, my God. You... you had an affair with my mom, didn’t you?” I didn’t wait for his response. I was already putting the pieces together. I nodded. “That’s why it had to be such a big secret. Astrid wasn’t kept out of court because she was born out of wedlock, but because Tabitha wanted to shield her from court politics. You got my mother pregnant at some point.”

“Yes,” Basil admitted with a clipped nod.

Which meant I had a sister. And maybe even more importantly: there was another heir to the throne of Winter. One born as a scandal, but still. Priss or Apricity had a claim. Maybe an even better claim than mine, since she had to have been the firstborn. If I abdicated the throne to her...

“I loved your mother,” Basil continued, and I could see the truth in his eyes. “Just as I love our daughter, though I’ve only seen her a few times a year. She’s been raised by nannies and servants, and she needs a real family. It was part of the reason why I made sure you’d have an adult faerie form when your curse broke.”

“I don’t understand.”

He nodded, as if he understood how this was confusing. “Technically, you’re only fifty years old. According to the law of faerie, you shouldn’t look any older than Astrid or Rook.”

Ugh. Teenage proportions again. For including that little mercy, I could have kissed him. I couldn’t imagine trying to raise my boys when they looked physically older than I was. I had several decades before I had to start worrying about that.

“My daughter, your sister,” Basil continued. “She needs family. True family.”

I swallowed hard as I read between the lines. “Are you saying you want me to... what? Take her in? Parent her?”

“That’s exactly what I’m asking,” Basil said with a quick nod. “And it’s the cost for my help. I know you don’t want the throne, but Priss isn’t ready for it either. You need to give her lessons on what being a leader truly looks like.”

I thought about it. I could refuse and try to find another way in, but... I could also help this girl, my half-sister. I remembered being thrust into a leadership role I hadn’t asked for. The least I could do was take her under my wing and give her some tips and tricks for handling herself as a Queen of Winter.

And it meant I no longer had to take the throne myself. I could remain the Chief of Police. I could remain as myself, as Taliyah.

“Fine. We have a deal.”