Page 19 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen (The Heartless and the Wicked #4)
“Not the humans in general.” Aslaug’s voice rose as she stared at them all. “The king. My brother.”
King Leiknir had a sister? Kolfinna had never heard of that before, but then again, she had never cared for royalty. She vaguely had a sense of idea that he had relatives, but they had died long ago, or so she had heard. Why was the king’s sister locked away here?
“Commander Alfaer would have killed her, as he plans to do with every member of the human royal family,” Rakel started.
“Those cursed fiends,” Astrid uncharacteristically hissed from the hallway, her eyes narrowing at the woman. “You are the blood and flesh of King Harald.”
King Harald, the human monarch who had fought against Aesileif and the fae, and had ultimately won. He had eradicated most of the fae after that.
The woman appeared unfazed. “Yes, but there are many centuries between me and King Harald.”
“Nonetheless,” Astrid said with a scowl. “You are his kin.”
Kolfinna shifted on her feet, turning her attention to Rakel. “What does Vidar plan to do?”
“None of your concern.” The elf woman lifted her shoulders. “You both will remain here for the time being.”
“But you said Vidar would have killed her. That means he has a plan for her.” Kolfinna glanced at the woman apologetically—she didn’t like talking about other people right in front of them, but the more information she had about what Vidar was planning, the better it would be.
Rakel inspected her long, sharp nails and shrugged, her red eyes flicking to the woman and then back to Kolfinna.
“I misspoke. Anyhow, you have new dresses in that trunk over there, and you can shower in that room.” She pointed to the wooden chest by one of the beds and then to the closed door.
“Commander Alfaer wishes to have you attend dinner later tonight. Astrid will help you dress and get ready in the evening.” Her grin turned sharp as she and Astrid headed out of the room.
She was just about to close the door when she piped up, “Ah, and before I forget, if you have any questions, bother someone else for them, because I don’t have time. ”
The door shut with a final click, leaving Kolfinna alone with her new roommate, for lack of a better word.
She smoothed down the skirts of her dress and gingerly headed toward her bed.
Thick fur blankets were piled atop of it neatly, and the sheets were clean and smelled fresh.
She didn’t even want to look through the trunk of clothes, so she plopped down on the mattress and covered her face in her hands, sighing loudly.
The exhaustion from riding the dreki, the travel, and her imprisonment crashed down on her shoulders, making her want to curl into a ball and sleep for eternity.
With all the events of the past week, she hadn’t even had time to properly think of Blár, or her friends at the military base and the royal guard…
or the fate of everyone if Queen Aesileif succeeded in taking back this kingdom.
“You are fae?” the woman, Aslaug, asked gently. Her hands bent over the frayed edges of her book and she watched Kolfinna with a gloomy expression—as if she didn’t care what happened to her one way or another. “You surely do appear like one, but it makes me wonder why you are imprisoned, then?”
“I’m curious too,” Kolfinna said, eyeing the woman. “You too are a princess, so why did the humans imprison you?”
The corner of Aslaug’s plump, dry lips rose. “That is a good question for another day. I myself have been asking that for nearly a decade.”
Her mouth dropped open in horror. “You’ve been trapped here for a decade?”
“Not exactly.” Another sad smile. “Almost … eight years.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.” An uneasiness pulled at her chest, and she wove her hands together to keep from fidgeting.
She had so many questions to ask—why had she been locked away here for that long by the king, why was she kept a secret if she was still alive—but she couldn’t find the words.
Not when the woman looked so glum, so desolate.
Aslaug motioned to the door. “You should go take your … shower , was it? I have not been able to make the contraption work, but I am sure you will be able to, since you are fae.”
Kolfinna blinked at the familiar word. Shower …
Was that what it was called? The invention Joran had built in his room using old fae engineering texts?
She had taken a shower in his bathroom, and it had run with rune magic.
An unexpected giddiness washed over her at the prospect of cleaning all this gunk off her body.
The last time she had used the contraption, it had been surprisingly soothing to step under the cascade of hot water.
“Has it always been here?” she asked as she headed toward the door. “I thought most fae inventions were destroyed by the humans once King Harald took over, since it was mostly useless for him and the rest of humans.”
“I have no idea of the history behind it,” she said, hugging her book to her chest. “The fae only moved me here today, while my original tower, the northern one, is being reinforced with runes. I didn’t see anything similar to it there, and all these towers are nearly identical. So I assume it’s newly built.”
Kolfinna opened the door to find the bathroom.
It was similar to the one Joran had built.
A giant mirror was erected on one wall, there was a contraption she assumed was for relieving oneself, and there was a box-like area surrounded with glass walls and a glass door in one corner of the room, which must be the shower.
Dozens of drains were set into the tiled floor and similarly a dozen or so holes sat in the ceiling of the glassed shower area.
Golden runes were etched into one of the walls, and even from this distance she could read them— ice cold, cold, warm, hot , and halt .
“I’ll be taking a … shower, I suppose,” she said to Aslaug, shutting the door behind her when she noticed the woman had gone back to reading.
Now alone in the bathroom, Kolfinna stripped out of her grimy dress, letting the thin material pool around her ankles as she stepped out of it.
It was only when she stepped into the shower, closed the glass door, and pressed her magic into the hot setting, that she could finally breathe .
As the water hit her body, her tense muscles relaxed. Her tangled hair clung to her neck, reducing in volume once wet, and dried blood and dirt swirled at the bottom of the tiles, the water running murky and then eventually clear.
Kolfinna covered her face with her hands, tears springing in the corner of her eyes. Her shoulders hunched together and she silently sobbed. All of her pent-up emotions released in that moment.
Her whole life was a lie.
She was no longer Kolfinna the fae, but Princess Kolfinna of the fae empire. Princess Kolfinna who was a quarter elf. Princess Kolfinna who didn’t belong anywhere—not with the humans, or the elves, or the fae.
Her fingers brushed over her sharp fae ears and she stifled a hiss of pain, her hands curling to her sides.
They were another reminder of how much she had changed.
What would Blár say if he saw her now? There was no way she could lie or deny her connection to Vidar, or to the last fae queen. Would he still … love her?
Actually, now that she thought about it, he had never told her he loved her. He simply … wanted her? For her figure, maybe? Because they were similar in some aspects? He liked her, she was sure of that, at least, but love ? They had never discussed that.
Would this be enough to break their new relationship?
She shook her head, tilting her face up toward the hot water streams. That was a worry for another day, she decided. First, she had to escape from this tower if she had any hope of romance with Blár.
After her self-pitying session was pretty much over, she cleansed her body with the hard soaps sitting in the indents of the wall.
They smelled nice, like spring flowers. Lavender, mostly, but with hints of other floral scents.
She washed her whole body twice, scrubbing so hard she was sure her skin would peel off.
It was only when she got to her back that she hissed with pain once more.
The two angry lines where her wings had been cut off burned when the water directly pebbled over them, and when she brushed her fingers over the delicate skin, she was shocked to find the scars were raised and even more vividly red than before; the skin surrounding it was irritated, uncomfortable, and bumpy.
Another sense of unease washed over her.
What was happening to her body? Her back had been extremely itchy and uncomfortable back when her elf powers had first emerged all those weeks ago, but the discomfort had subsided since then.
But now it was back in full force, or at least in the shower it was.
She quickly washed her body once more and stopped the water.
Steam fogged up the glass walls and the mirror.
She snatched one of the stacked towels from one of the shelves on the wall and wrapped her body in it.
The shelf above the towels held beauty products—hair brushes, an array of soaps, bottles of glass perfumes, scented oils, and other objects she didn’t fully recognize.
This really wasn’t like a prison cell, she thought as she touched the assortment of products.
Kolfinna pushed the door of her room open to find Aslaug right where she’d left her, sitting on her bed with a glazed look in her eyes as she stared at her book.
A howling wind swept inside the room through the slats of the barred window.
Shivering, she gingerly walked over to the trunk near her bed, keeping the towel wound tightly around her body.
She knelt beside it and quickly unlatched the padlock.
“What happened to your back?”
Kolfinna stiffened, not bothering to look at the woman. “Nothing.”
“You … used to have wings?”
“Yes.” She hoped her response was enough to not warrant further questions, but from the corner of her eye she noticed Aslaug watching her.
She didn’t want to talk about her clipped wings with a stranger, and she definitely didn’t want to broach the subject of why her skin was so irritated.
Actually, she didn’t want to talk at all.
She wanted to crash into the bed and fall asleep.
Kolfinna sifted through colorful fabrics, barely glancing at the beautiful garments. She grabbed the simplest one—a soft, full sleeved powder-blue dress that didn’t attract much attention.
Aslaug continued to watch her with those sad, sad brown eyes.
Finally, she resumed reading her book, her shoulders dropping.
A sting of guilt jolted in Kolfinna’s chest; it was probably the first time in a long time that this woman had had anyone to talk to.
A part of her wanted to step forward and offer some consolation, but the bigger part of her was too exhausted, too mentally drained and overwhelmed.
She placed her dress on the foot of the bed and, before she could change her mind, crawled underneath the covers, the towel still draped over her body.
She curled into a ball and breathed in the scent of soap from her sopping hair and skin.
She just wanted to rest her eyes for a few minutes, too tired to care about anything else in that moment.