Page 25 of The Arrow and the Alder

T he kith still hadn’t returned Seph’s things. After leaving the enchantress the night before, Priestess Nistarra had taken Seph to a natural hot spring to bathe and given her a clean nightdress. Seph’s skin was still raw from all the scrubbing, all that dirt and dried blood—so much, it’d muddied the spring’s clear water—and her scalp ached from battling all the knots in her hair. At one point, she considered asking Nistarra for a knife to cut it all off and be done with it, but the only thing that stopped her was that they’d given her too much already, and she didn’t want to accrue any more debts to these kith.

She had her own bedchamber.

Never in her life had Seph been given so much space to herself. To sleep . It seemed like a waste, this giant, empty bed meant for one small body. Linnea and Nora, and even Mama, could’ve crammed in there with her. She had her own fire, her own table and upholstered chair—and a bookcase! Seph had never felt more out of sorts, more un comfortable, and when she crawled onto that platform they called a bed, with space enough for five people, she could not find rest. She tossed and she turned, haunted by all Abecka had shared, until eventually Seph pulled the blankets from the bed, dragged them to the chair, and there she finally found sleep.

It wasn’t until Nistarra was setting a tray of food on the table before her that Seph awoke.

“The enchantress requests your presence before the elders and the courts this morning,” Nistarra said, eyeing Seph with a frown.

It was morning?

Seph yawned, sat up in the chair, and her spine popped. “Now?”

“Yes. I left your clothing upon your bed.” Where you should be, her expression seemed to say.

Seph’s gaze flickered to the bed. Nistarra hadn’t brought her clothing; she’d delivered an exquisite silvery gown.

How charitable of her.

“I was expecting to speak with the enchantress first,” Seph said tightly.

“Unfortunately, there is no time,” she replied as if this wasn’t unfortunate at all. “Do you need my help getting dressed?”

“I…no.”

“Then I will return shortly.” Nistarra bowed and took her leave.

“Wait, but how should I—” prepare , Seph had meant to ask, but the door closed, and Seph was alone.

She sighed and tilted her head back against the chair, eyeing the slip of fabric Nistarra had draped across her bed.

This wasn’t a gown. This was a declaration.

One Seph was not ready to make.

She was still just trying to come to terms with who her grandfather was.

Seph ground her teeth and looked at the tray instead. Nistarra had left bread, some cheese, and a flagon of—Seph picked it up and sniffed—water, thank the saints. She needed food, but she didn’t feel like eating. Still, she forced herself to take a few bites of cheese, washed it down with water, then padded over to the bed.

The gown glared up at her.

And it was beautiful, like a shaft of moonlight, narrow and sleeveless. The neckline plunged lower than Seph liked, though a delicate clasp kept it from being indecent. Seph touched the shimmering fabric. She’d never felt anything so soft, so dainty or so… thin .

“Not even a conversation,” Seph murmured to the one who had not visited her, as promised. Seph didn’t want to wear this. She didn’t want to be what Abecka wanted her to be. She couldn’t . She had her own family, her own responsibilities. And besides, what did she know of the kith way of life?

But Nistarra would come back, and Seph could not face Velentis in her nightdress. She wished she didn’t have to face Abecka and her elders at all, but there was nowhere for her to run or hide down here.

Seph was just putting on the slippers Nistarra had left when the priestess returned. She appraised Seph, then—without preamble—pulled a thin circlet from behind her back and lifted it to place upon Seph’s head.

“No…” Seph ducked and stepped away.

“It wasn’t a question.”

“I won’t wear it.”

The priestess eyed her with disapproval. “Enchantress Abecka insists.”

“Then she should have come and told me herself.”

Nistarra’s lips pursed. She stared down Seph, but Seph stared boldly back. At last, the priestess sighed and tucked the circlet into the folds of her gown. Her gaze snagged on the ring resting upon Seph’s sternum, totally exposed due to the gown’s plunging neckline. Seph expected the priestess to make her take it off, and she was surprised when she simply said, “Follow me.”

Seph took a deep breath and strode after the priestess, along the maze of pathways and bridges, and decided she would have liked a coat. Her gown didn’t offer much protection against the drafts and chilled air, and she wasn’t comfortable with so much skin visible—especially as more and more kith gathered to see her. Which was also when Seph spied a little girl with purple eyes bolting in and out of the throng.

The girl followed Seph all the way to a pair of enormous mahogany doors overlaid with an intricate metalwork of twisting silver vines. Guards pushed the doors in as the priestess asked Seph to wait. A moment later, Seph was following the priestess into an enormous atrium with vaulted ceilings, far larger than the one they’d visited last night, and it looked as though all of Velentis had gathered. Silver and emerald green. Light and Weald. A dull murmur filled the cavernous space, and so many bodies made for a lot of heat—which Seph might have been grateful for, but right then, it just felt suffocating.

All these people. All these eyes and expectations, when all Seph wanted was to go back to Harran, to Nora and Mama and Linnea, but Abecka had made it very clear that was impossible.

Speaking of, where was the enchantress?

Seph scanned the room and spotted Abecka at the front of it, standing upon a small platform next to three kith—one male and two females—all dressed in the colors of Light. In front of the platform stood Serinbor, Evora, and some tall, broad-shouldered, and imposing man?—

Wait.

Seph’s next step hitched. She hadn’t recognized Alder at first without his wild hair and shabby clothing. That wasn’t to say that he did not have any hair, but his face had been shaved clean, his wild hair trimmed so that it was short and neat at the neck and ears but left longer on top, where it tumbled back in glossy black waves. Bestial beard had given way to strong bones and a rigid jaw, marked by a defiant indentation at its center. His lips were larger than she’d expected, full and pink and set with irony, and Seph thought that this was the prince who had earned his infamous reputation. This was the prince who had charmed so many into overlooking his sins.

He was handsome. Painfully so.

His clothes were trimmed to fit that tall and powerful build—exquisite in their contrasting hues of storms and forest. Brooding clouds and unfurling leaves. He was Weald manifest in his sky-fury and wondrous green, but it was his eyes that had given him away, that rich molten steel, and they were staring at her so intently that Seph’s heart did a strange and unexpected flip.

“Holy Father of kith…” said one of the elders. A man with cropped white hair and silver attire cut to highlight a muscular build. Inky vines curled down one side of his face, a diamond accented one ear, and he gazed upon Seph as if he’d seen a ghost.

Everyone else seemed to share his assessment, because they all gaped and whispered. Many in the crowd were straining to get a better view, but Seph knew what they saw: two women, one old and one young, who were spitting images of each other. Seph doubted the enchantress even needed to make a formal announcement.

“Ah, there you are,” Abecka said, walking down the short stair and stopping before Seph. She looked over Seph with approval, though her smile faltered when she noticed Seph’s naked crown. “I apologize for not visiting you sooner. It could not be helped.”

Seph’s retort crowded behind the tight smile she gave Abecka. It would not do to insult the enchantress in front of so many people. Seph might have a temper, but she did have some self-control.

Abecka’s expression strained just a little, as if she heard Seph’s fury anyway, and a long beat passed before the enchantress angled herself to face those atop the podium.

“These are my elders. Tyrin of Drava, Celia de’Lana, and Sienne Alienne Dupree.” Abecka gestured to each in turn. Tyrin was the male. Sienne looked like a warrior, with her fitted clothes and breastplate made of moonstone. Her dark hair was braided close to her scalp and woven together into a single braid that draped over her shoulder. She gave Seph an appraising though not unkind expression.

Not at all like the second female: Celia de’Lana.

She wore her clothing loose, and her golden hair fell all the way to her waist in a mixture of thin braids and elegant coils. Seph thought Celia very striking but too severe to be beautiful.

“This is my great-granddaughter, Josephine Risorro Alistair,” Abecka announced to the crowd. She didn’t have to speak loudly, because all the room was silent. “Though I imagine you will accept her parentage without further proof.”

There were a few chuckles, and Tyrin looked knowingly at Sienne, who gave the smallest smile.

“Her birth is irrefutable, yes,” Celia said haughtily, tilting her face. “How old is she in mortal years?”

“Twenty-two,” Seph answered, though the question had been directed at Abecka.

“Thank you,” Celia replied tightly. “And have you spent all of your … twenty-two years in Harran?”

Seph refused to be belittled by her mortality. “I have.”

“Has she exhibited any signs of connecting with eloit ?” Sienne asked, looking at Alder.

Seph looked at Alder too, wondering how he would answer.

He met her gaze, and his full attention nearly knocked the breath from her lungs. She still couldn’t get over the transformation. He was still Marks, the man she’d first met, in bearing and in manner, and he had that same shrewd intelligence in his eyes. That same spark of sarcasm. But she missed his beard. His wildness had leveled the playing field, but this…

This was simply unfair.

Seph steeled herself as she held his gaze. He must have caught something in hers because the edge of his lips curled in the way she’d imagined it would, a way that reflected the dry sarcasm that always reflected in his eyes. She’d never been able to see his smirk fully through his beard, and seeing it now was wholly disarming.

“A little,” he answered, but he addressed Abecka and the elders as he added, “She was able to use my bow.”

Tyrin and Sienne appeared intrigued, Abecka pleased, Celia…annoyed, while the crowd murmured.

“Forgive me, but what does that mean?” Seph asked.

It was Abecka who answered. “Prince Alder’s bow was crafted by one of our most talented bowyers. It’s embedded with many powerful enchantments, but foundational to Prince Alder’s is that only a kith of royal blood can draw it.”

Oh.

Seph looked straight at Alder. “So you knew I was of royal blood.”

He tilted his head a fraction as he raised one of his stately brows. “I suspected you were more than even you were aware.”

Seph wasn’t sure if she believed him, and she was about to say as much, but Celia beat her to it.

“Prince Alder could be deceiving us,” Celia said hotly. “You know there is little sincerity within him.”

This time, Evora cut in. “Whatever you choose to believe, she helped my cousin shoot down over two dozen depraved in Asra Domm. I witnessed that myself. Not any mortal could do what she did.”

This statement incited more murmuring.

“Was this the same colony you and Serinbor had been tracking?” Abecka asked, and the crowd quieted again.

“Yes, Your Majesty, only they beat us to it.” Evora cast Seph a sideways glance, accompanied by a small discreet smile that Seph held close to her breast. It was a lifeline in this tumultuous sea of eyes.

“That is promising,” Tyrin observed. “Is that all she’s exhibited?”

“Thus far,” Alder said. “Though I suspect her kith side will become stronger—maybe even surprise us—the longer she’s here.”

He wasn’t telling them about her ability. Was he keeping that a secret for her sake? Or for his own designs?

“And how did that happen, exactly? Her being here …and with you ?” Celia asked. “The last any of us heard, you were at the Rift, so how did you end up deep in the mortal realm, escorting Jakobián’s heir into ours?”

It was the question all of them had come to hear answered. It was why Abecka had summoned them before the elders, and Seph had no idea how Alder was going to answer it.