Page 44 of The Ever King

Erik chuckled. “That we can, love. Under the surface. As I understand it, the fae not of the sea—you—find that way of travel . . . discomfiting. We’ll take the longer route.”

I went still. He was keeping me more comfortable?

“I don’t understand you, Bloodsinger.”

His only reply was a deeper frown and shrug before he went back to his map. Anxious to be free of the cataclysm of conflicting emotions, I faced the door, but paused. The soot still shadowed the rune on my arm, but the pink edges were beginning to bleed through.

I shouldn’t. Fewer moments around this man was wisest. It was stupid, he wouldn’t even care . . .

“Bloodsinger.”

“Love?”

“I have a question to ask of you, and if you feel any hint of gratitude for the girl who tried to keep your spirits alive in that cell, I ask you not to mock me or lie to me.”

My back to the king, I clenched my fists by my sides, waiting for a taunt, a rant for speaking to him so briskly. All he did was clear his throat. The slide of his heavy steps sent a shudder down my spine.

I drew in a sharp breath when his grip curled around my arm and turned me into him.

“Consider this my opportunity to repay a girl for her folktales.” He leaned one shoulder against the wall. “What is it you want to ask?”

Slowly, I brushed the soot off the rune. “Sewell saw this, and . . . it upset him. He, well, in his way, told me to hide it. To not let them take it.”

“Them?” Bloodsinger’s callused hand slid beneath my elbow, cupping it in his palm. With his other thumb he traced the mark.

“I don’t know who he means.”

“But you’re here discussing it with me?”

“You have already seen it. I don’t imagine he’s speaking about you.”

His mouth tightened. “You haven’t asked a question.”

“Do you know what it means or why it would be a worry for Sewell?”

Bloodsinger gently released my arm and rolled one of his sleeves over his elbow, giving up his own rune. “That mark is from the House of Kings. I’m sure it unsettled Sewell because the mark has never been on a woman.”

My lips parted. “Never?”

“Never. To be seen not just on a woman, but an earth fae? I assure you, Songbird, if there had been time, I would have asked a great many questions in your chamber.”

He rounded the table again and pulled out two chairs. Taking one, Bloodsinger gestured at the other. I hesitated, but gave into the curiosity to know more.

“The rune is a symbol of the royal line of the Ever. What we call the mark of the king. It is the mark on the mantle you showed to me that night.” He practically spat the last word. “The only possibility I’ve considered for it to be on your skin is that you touched it when you brought it to me.”

What would become of me when he discovered the brittle golden disc was destroyed? I swallowed the knot in the back of my throat. I needed to admit the truth. Bloodsinger wanted my father’s head when the blame belonged to me. “There is—”

“The mantle—” Erik began at the same time. He paused. “What were you saying?”

My blood chilled. “Nothing. What were you saying?”

“The mantle is why I came to you,” he told me. “I have need of it, and perhaps, when it is mine again, we might put all this . . . tension between our worlds behind us at last.”

I clacked my teeth together with such force I thought they might chip. If Bloodsinger spoke true, the one possibility of peace with the sea fae didn’t exist. Because of me.

There had to be a way out of it. There had to be more I could learn, more I could use here, to convince the king one shattered talisman did not need to end in bloodshed. My knee bounced as I stared at the map of the provinces. “How do your houses fit here? You mentioned the House of Kings. Are these provinces all related somehow?”

Erik dropped his gaze back to the map. “There are five noble houses of the Ever. Each controls a province and a gift of the sea. They all have strengths and talents that are utilized for the benefit of the kingdom. When sea fae develop a song, they are classed amongst the houses.”