Page 37 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen (The Heartless and the Wicked #4)

She didn’t want to tell him that they were far too fancy for her, or that she wasn’t used to being in such extravagant rooms, but she didn’t want to stroke his ego or give him that satisfaction, so she shrugged. “They’re all right, I suppose.”

“Just all right?” Rakel snorted, setting down her dagger. “Don’t pretend you weren’t living in squalor just a few weeks ago.”

“I was never living in squalor,” she bit out.

“Oh, Kolfinna.” She laughed as if she was a little child.

“I was in the human fortress when you were a soldier, remember? I saw the state of that place, and let me tell you, you were certainly living differently to now. If you choose to call that decent living, then be my guest. But you aren’t fooling us. ”

Everyone began to serve themselves, and Kolfinna was left sitting there with her cheeks warming.

Floki immediately ripped off a giant chunk of the duck and tossed it on his plate with a ravenous grin.

Freyja plated roasted vegetables on hers and noticeably grimaced at the meat.

Agnarr piled his plate with a little of everything.

Rakel and Vidar chose a balance between meat and roasted vegetables.

Kolfinna opted to grab a big bowl of venison stew and some fluffy bread to go along with it; she figured her stomach wouldn’t be able to handle anything more than that, especially since she hadn’t properly had a meal in days.

“Your room is on the same floor as mine.” Vidar cut into a slab of red meat, the juices running into his plate.

“I’ve also increased your number of guards.

” As if to punctuate his point, he motioned toward the four guards, plus Astrid, standing rigid on one end of the room.

“Since you love humans so much, I thought you would be comfortable with a few Ragnarok guards. Perhaps they can help you acclimatize to your new life here.”

Kolfinna’s spine tingled uncomfortably and she gritted her teeth together after hearing that new, terrifying, piece of information. She didn’t want to be anywhere near Vidar. It would make it much harder to escape if he was close by.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. The only sound in the hall was the clanking of eating utensils, chewing, and clothes rustling as they shifted in their seat.

Finally, Floki broke the tension by tearing off the skin of his grilled chicken with his sharp teeth and saying between mouthfuls, “This is delicious. Who made this?”

“The chef,” Rakel said with an amused grin. “Who else?”

“Isn’t there usually a team of chefs who cook?” Floki asked. “Whoever was in charge of the meat did a splendid job.”

“All they did was grill it.”

“Are you looking down on the art of grilling meat, Rakel?”

“Even I could do that,” she said with a snicker. “Come now, Floki. Are we so out of conversations that we have to discuss meat to fill the silence?”

“Out of conversations?” He appeared mock-offended. He speared a roasted potato and popped it in his mouth, chewed, and then grinned at her. “You make it sound like we’re all boring people with nothing to talk about! Surely Commander Alfaer has something interesting to share. Or perhaps Kolfinna?”

Kolfinna straightened in her seat, glancing at Vidar, who was unfazed by the subtly rude comment, and then at the others. Rakel frowned and shook her head before continuing with her meal.

“Sometimes, Floki,” Vidar said smoothly, raising his glinting red eyes at his general, “you are too comfortable when speaking.”

“Oh, come now, Your Highness. You must have some interesting news to share.” There was a twinkle in his eyes as he said that, and Kolfinna wasn’t sure what she was more shocked or confused by—the strange title, the interesting news, or the uncertainty of whether or not he was jesting or truthful.

“You already know.” Vidar pinned him with an unreadable look, before shifting his attention to Kolfinna. “All right, since Floki insists on it, do you know someone by the name of Hilda Helgadottir?”

A shiver ran down Kolfinna’s spine at the mention of Hilda and she forgot to breathe.

She lowered her spoon, her stomach curdling as she remembered the cruel woman who had tortured her, beat her, and almost killed her.

She could still remember the feel of the whip cracking the air and splitting her flesh.

She squeezed her eyes shut, her nostrils flaring.

She hadn’t meant to have such a visceral reaction, but her body instinctively went back to that windowless room where her screams had gone unheard. Breathing through the trauma, she stared at Vidar’s hard expression, and nodded.

She could feel everyone staring at her. Taking in her response.

Vidar ate a slice of meat, and then washed it down with a drink. The entire time, he continued to watch her. “She sent those assassins to your tower. I don’t know how she realized where you were located, but I have to assume that she infiltrated this fortress with her men.”

“Do you want me to kill her?” Floki was smiling gently when he looked at Kolfinna. The sincerity in his voice shocked her to her core—at how easily he spoke of murder.

“She is incredibly powerful,” Kolfinna said, stirring her stew to keep from trembling. “She has always hated me.”

She didn’t know why she’d supplied that small tidbit of information, but Rakel seemed to hook into it. She leaned forward, her white braids shifting as she canted her head. “Why does she hate you so much?”

“She is the head of the Hunter Association.” She clamped her mouth shut.

Was it unwise to say more? But then again, she didn’t want to protect Hilda.

That wicked woman would always make life harder for the fae.

Her hesitation dissolved when she remembered the way Hilda had almost killed her and how her elf magic had manifested.

“She has always hated the fae. She once … she once captured me and?—”

She peered down at her stew, no longer wishing to talk more about it.

Vidar appraised her for a moment. “You were tortured, I assume?”

Kolfinna flinched.

“And you still like the humans?” Rakel lifted her white eyebrows.

Kolfinna ate her stew silently. The salty, brothy taste momentarily staved off the bitterness of Rakel’s words and the memory of her time with Hilda.

It was best to forget it all, even if she sometimes still had nightmares about the helplessness she had felt, the terror that had gripped her so tightly.

If it wasn’t for her elf powers, she would have died.

“The metal bars in your bedroom window were broken,” Vidar said carefully, and she could feel his eyes on her.

Blár had broken the bars, but he wouldn’t have expected Hilda’s assassins to use that to their advantage. She ate another spoonful of her food and raised her eyes to meet his. “Why do you always keep your wings out?”

He clearly didn’t expect that question, by the way he lowered his spoon.

His dangerous black wings twitched, as if they knew they were the center of her question.

The firelight in the room seemed to dance over the planes of his face.

“Because I am half-elf,” he said slowly.

“Most halflings are unable to dematerialize their wings.”

“It’s not for show?” She had truly thought he did it to appear more ominous, but now she felt silly for even asking. She didn’t really know much about the fae after all.

“Not all halflings have wings,” Rakel added. “If you do, and you have more fae than elf blood, most likely you will be able to dematerialize your wings. But if you are more elf than fae, you likely won’t even have wings.”

Agnarr tore a piece of fluffy, fresh bread with his hands, and steam rose from the soft inside of it.

“If you focus your healing powers on your wings, you could grow them back,” he answered between bites of bread.

“Or you can have Commander Alfaer heal them. We can teach you how to dematerialize yours.”

“That’s unexpectedly kind of you,” Freyja said with a raised eyebrow.

He flashed her a smirk. “By we I meant you or Floki.”

“There it is,” Freyja said with an eyeroll.

Kolfinna wasn’t sure what to feel about that. On one hand, she was curious, and terrified, to know what it would feel like to fly through the sky with her own wings. On the other hand, she didn’t welcome another change to her body.

The conversation drifted to another topic—Freyja and Agnarr arguing about the validity of having a unit of soldiers solely for aerial attacks—when Kolfinna got the strange, prickling sensation of someone staring at her.

She shifted in her seat and glanced at the generals and Vidar, who joined in the discussion and made a few talking points about different units in the past who were successful, and then looked at the guards lining the wall.

All the guards were either staring straight ahead, bored, or blankly at the floor. Except one.

The masked guard was staring straight at her. His dark hair was neatly slicked back, pulling more focus to his arctic eyes, framed by thick lashes. A jolt ran through her body at the darkening desire pooling in that familiar gaze.

Blár.

What was he doing here?

Heat flashed through her body and she ripped her gaze away from him, her body rippling with unexpected giddiness.

She should have felt horrified that he was so near, but she couldn’t help the excitement that coursed through her.

But that only lasted a split second before terror seized her so tightly that she wanted to vomit all over her plate.

Vidar and Rakel knew his face, and they were all in the same room.

All it would take is one small slip-up, and they would kill him.

“My specialty has always been in flight,” Freyja said, frowning as she moved the vegetables around on her plate.

“And even though I love to fly, I think it will only limit our soldiers if there was a unit solely focused on aerial attacks. They will feel like they must use their wings to attack. Most of our magic is connected with earth, and being so high up in the sky truly does limit our abilities.”

“There have been successful aerial units in the past,” Floki chimed in. “But they were always smaller units.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I think aerial attacks are very effective when used appropriately, but I don’t think having a whole unit dedicated to it is necessary,” Freyja continued.

Kolfinna barely listened to their hypothetical conversation—which could have proved useful, she vaguely thought—as she cast a surreptitious glance at Blár again. He was no longer watching her, but staring at the wall like the other guards.

“There are soldiers who specialize in earth magic, and others who specialize in nature,” Agnarr said with a shrug. “It is another aspect of our power, so I don’t believe it hurts us in any way to have some that specialize in flight.”

“I prefer well-rounded soldiers,” Freyja said with an exasperated sigh. “Can you imagine if we had a unit for every special skill we all have? A unit whose specialty is running very fast. Another whose specialty is launching earth magic. Another who can … I don’t even know!”

Kolfinna dipped her bread into the last dregs of the stew and swallowed it down without tasting much of it. She sipped on her water slowly, her mind racing and her heart thumping in her chest to a wild tune.

“Why are you eating so little?” Agnarr asked Freyja once Floki, Rakel, and Vidar began a separate conversation about the historical usage of flight-based attacks during the elven invasion—a topic that normally would have interested Kolfinna, since she knew nothing of that history.

Freyja sighed over her bed of lettuce and tomatoes. “I have no appetite at the moment, and most of the food doesn’t sit well with me.”

“What do you mean?” Angarr gave her a bemused smile. “Are you bloated, or something? Or perhaps gassy?”

Two splotches of red bloomed on her cheeks. “ Agnarr !”

“I’m jesting,” he murmured with a low chuckle.

Kolfinna watched the both of them with renewed interest; did he not realize she was with child?

She had heard it was very common for women to have food aversions during pregnancy, particularly toward meat.

It would explain why she was only eating leafy vegetables.

Maybe the starchier foods, like the potatoes, did cause her stomach discomfort.

Nobody else seemed to notice it, but Agnarr placed a gentle hand on Freyja’s, his fingers brushing over her knuckles. His voice was low, concerned. “Do you wish for me to find blander foods for you? Perhaps a simple soup or honeyed tea?”

A blush stained her cheeks. “I am well.”

“I’m not convinced.”

“Perhaps later, then,” she said, looking up to stare into his eyes.

Kolfinna ripped her attention away from them, suddenly embarrassed on their behalf.

How did nobody else notice that they clearly held feelings for each other?

Maybe it was overpowered by their heated arguments or their barbed words toward each other.

Or maybe she only noticed because she had witnessed their passion in the hallway.

She could feel Blár’s gaze on her again, but she didn’t look over at him this time. Not when Vidar could have been watching. She didn’t want to compromise Blár’s position.

“I would like to retire in my room for the night,” Kolfinna said, folding her hands on her lap. “I’m still recovering and I’m rather tired.”

Vidar barely paid her any attention, but he nodded in her direction. “You are dismissed.”

She wanted to spring to her feet and sprint out of the room, but she didn’t want to draw his notice so she rose up slowly, nodded and bid the rest of the generals good night, and then headed to the door.

Her guards filed behind her as she exited the dining hall. An excited shiver ran down her spine.

She needed to find a way to be alone with Blár.