Page 6 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen (The Heartless and the Wicked #4)
THREE – KOLFINNA
Rakel dragged Kolfinna outside the fortress until they reached the battlefield they had both fought on a few days prior.
All the corpses had been cleaned up: human, fae, and elf alike.
The proof of the battle remained in the earth—the ground was torn up from stone fae-magic, scorch marks remained from elves and lightning and fire elementals, and the crumbling rocks and grass were tarnished with inky purplish-black stains and dried, crusted blood.
Kolfinna’s heart caught in her throat at the sight of ice cementing the ground in chunks—most definitely Blár’s ice-magic, which would remain frozen for a long, long time.
Nightmarish fae soldiers stood in rows expectantly, garbed in midnight-like metal, scales, and leathers. Nobody spoke, and the only sound was that of large beasts huffing and puffing. It took Kolfinna a moment to realize what exactly was making all that noise— drekis .
Dozens of large, scaled, lizard-like drekis lined the fortress walls.
Their red eyes burned like fire, and Kolfinna shuddered at the sight of them.
The last time she had faced the monstrous creatures of legend was when Ragnarok had attacked the capital months ago, and before that was when she and Blár had been trapped within the Eventyrslot ruins in the desert dimension.
“What are you going to do with Herja?” Kolfinna demanded; she wasn’t able to shake the image of Herja, unconscious and weak, out of her mind.
“We’ll keep her alive.”
Kolfinna waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. “I want to see her?—”
“So long as you cooperate, you’ll see her.”
That was all the answer she was going to get, it seemed. Even when she tried prodding for more, the elf woman ignored her.
Rakel shot orders at groups of fae quickly and without slowing her march— pack the weapons here, be sure to feed the drekis, take the prisoners there —and it was only when they reached a beige-colored tent at the front of the army that Rakel slowed.
She yanked Kolfinna’s wrist harder and pushed through the flap of the tent.
“You need to change your outfit,” Rakel said as she flung Kolfinna to the ground.
She barely had time to raised her arms to soften the impact.
Rakel began flipping through the trunks stacked on one side of the room.
The only things in the room were those trunks, some dressers, and some locked chests—most likely loot they had found in the fortress that could be used for their travels.
“You can’t wear that filthy uniform anymore,” Rakel continued.
“It’s embarrassing enough that you side with the humans, but we don’t need a reminder of it every time we look at you.
And, of course, since you are the princess and, I suppose, the heir to the throne …
” Rakel made a face at that, like she had tasted something sour, and picked through the trunk once more.
“Well, you need to dress better.” She pulled out a bright red dress with a swooping neckline and a cinched waist. It also looked about three times too small.
Kolfinna pushed herself into a sitting position and rubbed the scrapes on her elbows glumly. She was still shaken from earlier, but she didn’t want Rakel to see that. Her whole body was tensed like a coiled spring ready to snap.
“This is a bit too …” Rakel squinted at the dress, a frown tugging on her lips. She raised the gaudy dress in front of Kolfinna. “What do you think?”
“If you plan to parade me like a clown, then it’s perfect,” she grumbled.
“Hm.” She tossed the dress back into the trunk and pulled out a navy-blue gown with black crystals clustered along the hem, neckline, and sleeves. “This one is quite beautiful. I think it’ll go well with that black hair of yours.”
Kolfinna inadvertently touched the white strands of her hair; just months ago she’d had fully black hair, and now it was half-white and half-black; she had hated the change at first, but now she wasn’t even sure what to make of it.
Rakel eyed her hair just as Kolfinna dropped her locks.
“You don’t like the reminder, do you?” She rifled through the clothes without casting her another glance.
Her own white hair whipped around her back like thick ropes; even in the dimmer lighting of the tent, the silver rings and clasps in her hair shone brightly.
“Most half-elves hate their white hair.”
“Why?”
She shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “Elves are seen as lesser beings than the fae, so most half-elves hate to be seen as half-elf, and would rather be seen as mostly -fae.”
It hadn’t even occurred to Kolfinna that there was race superiority or discrimination among the fae and elves; she had thought … Well, she hadn’t given it much thought, really. Just a few months ago she hadn’t even known elves existed.
“Why do the fae look down on elves?” she found herself asking.
“Because we make up a small fraction of fae civilization.” She spoke like it didn’t matter, but there was an edge to her tone. She chucked a sage-green dress in front of Kolfinna. “Wear this. At least you’ll look presentable.”
The dress was beautiful, flowy, and glowed with a satin sheen every time the sunlight hit it. Kolfinna glided her fingers over the silk-like material. It was too nice for her. She was a prisoner, not a long-lost princess.
“Why can’t I wear something like what you’re wearing?
” Kolfinna lowered the dress into her lap and motioned toward Rakel’s dark leathers; they hugged her lean figure nicely, and looked easy to move around in.
She was more comfortable with the idea of wearing something militaristic and moveable, not … this.
“No.” Rakel snorted. “You’re not a warrior here, Kolfinna.”
“But I’m a soldier?—”
“Of the enemy.” Rakel shot Kolfinna a dark look as she leaned her hip against the stacks of cases and trunks in the cramped, dimly lit tent.
Crossing her muscled arms over her chest, she lifted a white eyebrow.
“Why would I give you something to wear that would make it easier for you to escape? Not that you’d be able to, but it’s the sentiment. ”
Kolfinna nearly bristled. “I’m not planning on?—”
“Save the lies for someone who’ll believe them,” Rakel cut in with an eyeroll. “Now change.”
The thought of stripping naked in front of this woman sent razors down her spine; Kolfinna already hated being vulnerable in front of anybody, much less someone who was imprisoning her.
She hugged the dress to her body and glared at the elf.
“I would like some privacy. I’m not going to run away in the few moments it takes to put this dress on. ”
Rakel flashed a sharp smile. “You seem to be forgetting your place here, Princess Kolfinna. Although I’m attempting to be polite with you, since you are the heir to our throne and the daughter of our monarch, please keep in mind that you are a prisoner .
Do not mistake my kindness for something it isn’t.
” She twirled her finger. “Now change into those clothes. Either turn around or change where you stand.”
Kolfinna focused on the dirt floor as she swiftly turned around and ducked her chin.
She unbuttoned her uniform with trembling hands.
Was this what Rakel wanted? To make her feel uncomfortable?
She bunched her hands together over the beautiful, shimmery fabric of the dress.
She didn’t want to wear it and feel even more out of place in this army.
She breathed out deeply and tried to calm her rattling nerves.
It would be fine, she reasoned as she yanked off her uniform top with one hand and draped the dress over her other arm.
She would find a way to escape and run back to Blár.
It wasn’t like she was going to be stuck with Vidar and Rakel all day long; there were bound to be moments where she’d be alone.
She would take advantage of that moment and flee.
This small act of making her feel exposed was nothing; she could handle it.
The dress fit surprisingly well; the bosom was tight and stretched taut, but she almost always expected that with clothing that wasn’t fitted to her size.
Her biggest complaint about the dress was that it was sleeveless, with a sweetheart neckline that showed more skin and cleavage than she was comfortable with.
Kolfinna pulled the neckline higher and glanced over at Rakel, who was picking at her nails with the sharp end of a shadowed tendril.
“Is there anything else I can wear? If I move too much, I’ll expose myself,” she said with a tightlipped frown.
“Unless that’s what you want? For the daughter of your commander to expose herself in front of the entire fae army.
I’m sure it’ll make Vidar and his evil queen proud to know everyone has seen?—”
Rakel scoffed and waved a hand, her shadow magic disappearing. “Enough.”
Kolfinna didn’t have time to protest because Rakel marched forward, snatched her wrist, and once again dragged her out of the tent. Her wrist felt more like it would pop from its joint the harder Rakel tugged, and she had to hurry her steps as to not trip over her gossamer skirts.
The chill brushed over her bare shoulders and she gasped at the coolness.
Almost immediately, her attention flicked over the fields for a familiar face, her heart leaping in her chest. But Blár wasn’t there; there were only soldiers and drekis outside.
Besides, this cold was nowhere near the wintry edge Blár possessed, but any sign of frost and cold had her chest tightening hopelessly.
It was better if he wasn’t here, she reminded herself.
He was probably the only hope they had of defeating this fae army, or defeating Vidar.
All he needed to do was team up with the other black ranks and formulate a plan.
She truly, truly hoped he didn’t set his hopes on freeing her, and instead focused on the bigger picture—that this war was more important than her.