Page 55 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen (The Heartless and the Wicked #4)
Vidar frowned again. “The fae monarch has a unique power that is passed down to the heir. It was passed to Aesileif when her family was murdered, but it has always been a great burden on her frail body. It’s one of the reasons she has grown sicker over the years.
There have been reports of it nearly crushing and killing fae heirs who were too young to wield it, so as a result, Aesileif sealed herself away so that you would be protected against it. ”
A numbness spread throughout her chest. “And what happens if the fae line is completely murdered?”
“It is passed down to whoever is most worthy.” He lifted one shoulder.
“What kind of power is it?”
“You don’t need to know that.”
“Will it help you win the war? Is that why you need Aesileif?”
Vidar pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed out deeply.
His magic stirred in the air, becoming darker and heavier, and Kolfinna practically choked on the intensity of it.
When he snapped his eyes open, they were blank.
“No, we don’t need that power to win this war.
We need Aesileif because she is the queen, because having her here will raise morale, because she knows her people better than anyone else. Because … I need her.”
Kolfinna opened her mouth to say something, but Agnarr spoke before she could.
“I’m ready to move whenever you want me to, Vidar,” he said in a low voice, a grim frown twisting the corners of his mouth.
She couldn’t help the strange look she gave him. He had called Vidar by his first name. Not Commander Alfaer. But simply his name. She was so distracted by that—and the fact that they might have potentially been friends and forgone formalities in private—that his words almost didn’t register.
Was Agnarr going to leave for the military headquarters? If there were plans that they were going to discuss, she needed to tell Blár everything she learned here.
Vidar stared at Kolfinna and an uneasiness spread throughout her body. There was an intensity that rippled through the air, thickened by his dark mana. As if something was going to happen. Like a coil ready to spring forward, or a taut band ready to snap. She could feel it down to her bones.
“What will you do, Kolfinna?” Vidar asked slowly, unblinkingly. “Will you join us or stay with the humans?”
She hesitated, not having expected those words.
She opened her mouth to deny him, to tell him she wanted nothing to do with him and his army, but she wasn’t even sure what was right or wrong at this point.
She knew the humans couldn’t be trusted as a whole, but she trusted Blár and the others, and it was hard to come to terms with the fact that Vidar’s people might be the hope the fae had been looking for all these centuries.
Was she going to stand in the way of that?
He must have seen her reluctance as a win, because he turned sharply to Agnarr and gave a short nod. “Have Floki notified and move immediately as planned. Have your men ready.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, but Agnarr was already on the move; he left the room promptly.
Vidar headed to the window Agnarr had been peering out of and stared at the sky with an unreadable expression. “Kolfinna, did Aesileif speak to you?”
“No. I only saw her memories, like I already told you,” she said. “What did you mean when you told Agnarr to have his men ready? Is he going into battle?”
“Sit.”
“What?”
“ Sit .” He pointed to one of the cushioned chairs. “We will stay here a while before it’s time to move. In the meantime, I need to speak with you.”
She didn’t want to listen to him, the defiant part of her wanting to resist everything he ordered for her, but the sword-dimension had drained her too much, and she couldn’t muster up any bravado or resistance.
She eased into the closest seat, her tired limbs longing for the rest. As soon as she was sitting, the threads of sleep pulled at her heavy eyelids and it took everything within her to keep them open.
Vidar silently watched her for a while longer. She couldn’t bear to look at him, not with the confusion of everything she had witnessed.
“Will you free your mother?” his words came out levelly, coldly, and yet she could hear the hint of something else there. Something that beckoned her own vulnerability.
“I’m not aligning myself with you,” Kolfinna said after a moment. “But … I …”
He waited while she fidgeted with her hands.
She didn’t want Aesileif, her mother, to be locked away forever, never to be broken free from her restraints.
After everything the poor woman had gone through, Kolfinna had to wake her, even if it meant making things harder for the humans.
Even if it meant Blár would be angry at her.
Even if … her alliances would become murky.
A pounding headache formed in the back of her mind and she screwed her eyes shut. Sleep—that was what she really needed right now.
“Yes,” she finally said, the word coming out of her like a grave betrayal.
She hated how wishy-washy she was on both sides.
To the humans, she was their ally, and yet they didn’t accept her—and likewise, she was suspicious of them.
To the fae, she was their enemy, but she also wanted the best for her people like they did.
Her shoulders slumped in defeat at the warring in her conscience—at what was right and what was wrong. Eventually, she would have to choose a definite side. She couldn’t hop between the two and expect both sides to be fine with that.
But that was only because neither side was good enough , she told herself. The humans had their faults, as did the fae, and she was finding it harder and harder to reconcile with the former.
The silence stretched between them awkwardly. Kolfinna smoothed down the material of her tunic, her mind traveling back to the dimension where Vidar had looked younger, angrier .
“You were planning on leaving her. Why?”
Vidar blinked slowly, confusion swirling in his bloodlike eyes.
She pointed to his cheek. “The day you got your scar. Was it really because Elin said something? You told Aesileif that you were going to leave for battle and she?—”
“Trust me when I say I remember every scathing remark I made,” he snarled with such vitriol that Kolfinna reeled back in her seat, her back pressing against the velvet cushions.
It wasn’t like him to spew so much emotion into his usually level voice.
For his composed mask to crack and reveal the beast that wanted to tear into something.
The sunlight draped over the marred bumps of his scar, seeming to bring it more to life, and his hand stretched to touch the harsh scarring, his lips twisting into disdain.
At himself? Kolfinna wasn’t entirely sure, but she clamped her mouth shut.
She almost hated how she had brought forth so much hurt with her simple question.
“I planned to leave for battle for the wretched crown—for Elin .” He snapped her name with pure revulsion, and his fingers dug into his brawny biceps.
He shifted his attention to the window, glaring at the glinting sunlight passing through the thick clouds.
“Aesileif and I come from two different worlds. The elves are never seen as equals to the fae. Being a half-elf, I am an abomination. For me to pine after the princess of the fae?” He scoffed, shaking his head.
“Elin abhorred the idea of me being near her sister. Not out of love for Aesileif, but shame. She didn’t want the royal family associated with me in any way.
She noticed the way I looked at her, and perhaps …
she noticed the way Aesileif looked at me.
She saw fit to rid her sister of me, and I naively believed her when she told me I was endangering Aesileif, that I was the root cause of her troubles. ”
Kolfinna waited for him to continue his story, her attention raptly on him, but his silence stretched longer, thinning by his shuddered, furious breaths. Slowly, his fury died away to embers, and he released a loose breath, his form losing some of its rigidity.
“It shames me how little confidence I had in myself back then. What little confidence I had in the … in the love we shared. That is what, I think, truly broke Aesileif’s heart that night, and I don’t think I ever—” He pursed his lips, and Kolfinna could see the shreds of vulnerability slipping through, before he snuffed it out.
“She has, since, never believed me when I tell her that she is my priority. She believes I value duty and loyalty over love. Perhaps they all think it.”
“They all? Do you mean your people?”
He didn’t elaborate, and only stared off at the distance.
Kolfinna shifted in her seat uneasily. “Surely she doesn’t believe that? You have proven time and time again that you love her. Your scars prove?—”
“It’s not enough. In the end, I broke her trust that night.
I should have fought for our love. Instead, I showed her that all it took to break it was a simple command from the crown princess.
And once Aesileif took the throne that night?
My willingness to remain by her side, to protect her, simply solidified the idea in her mind that I was only there because she was now the queen.
” His fingers traced the rough edges of his scar.
“She loathes to see my face now that I am scarred. It reminds her of that night.”
A quietness fell over them both. Vidar stood in what she could only imagine was misery and grief, the tension cording his body telling her that he was still trapped within that haunting memory.
Kolfinna threaded her hands together on her lap, hating the raw emotions swelling in her chest for her father.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said. And she truly was.