Page 144 of The Freedom You Seek

“Then get dressed. We’ll get the horses ready.”

Before I could even so much as glower at them, the males filed out of my room, all except Antas.

“You need to keep it together and not blame your mistakes on others. And you will also have to explain to me what happened in Amalach.”

Count on my great-uncle to face my temper unafraid. I showed him my teeth as well and narrowed my eyes. “He has her.”

“Yes. And the more you alienate your only allies, the harder finding her will be.”

“She has the dagger. I can trace her.”

Antas just pointed to the armoire, and I cursed.

“Thain found it in the wastelands near Amalach, where Feroy most likely captured Nayana. Whether you like it or not, because he was scouting alone, Carthain is the only one who has any kind of trace of her right now.”

I sighed, exhaustion washing over me despite—or because—all the turmoil agitating me.

“I’ll put on some clothes. We have to leave fast. Three days. We lost three days because of a fucking book.”

“Two more things. Can you glamour yourself?”

“It should work. What’s the other thing?”

“This came while you were asleep.”

I frowned at the closed envelope with an unbroken seal that Antas handed me. “Fuck.”

“Read it, get dressed, use your Glamour, and meet us downstairs.”

“Fiantas?”

“Yes,Dionadair?”

“I hate it when you order me around.”

“Then control yourself, and I won’t have to.”

I growled at him one last time as he left the room.

I quickly washed up as I changed my appearance back to my human mask, hating that something like a Glamour, which was as easy as breathing even for young faelings, almost knocked me off my feet.

When my disguise finally sat firmly enough to feel secure, I got dressed, all the while trying not to succumb to bone-deep exhaustion. I had no time to be weak.

Before I left the room, I took the letter and broke the seal, already knowing nothing good would come from reading it. I reached for the piece of parchment, and my eyes flew over the neat handwriting of my grandfather.

Scriosta,

I assume my last letter and my soldiers were unable to find you and were intercepted.

With surprise, I had to hear that you recently undertook the Rite of Binding, and I congratulate you and your Amplifier on said union. While it will do much to strengthen my kingdom and reign, I have to admit that I am deeply disappointed, as your king but also as your grandfather. Why you have preferred to conduct the ceremony in Amalach, of all places, instead of at home in Alaiann is a mystery to me. I don’t have to tell you what an important symbol such an event could have been for my people—the first Rite of Binding in over a century.

But worry not. I spent quite some time thinking about how to salvage your careless oversight: On winter solstice, the crown will host a ball in honor of you and your binding.

You and your Amplifier, as well as all the males in your company, are to arrive three nights beforehand at the latest. Should you not, I will sadly have to assume it is your intention to commit treason, and I will have to enact the royal protocols. You know precisely what this would entail. Because of the possibility therefore, I am hosting forty-eight fae in my dungeons as security tokens, mostly, but not exclusively, family and friends of the ones accompanying you.

Stop hiding, return, and remember what it means to be the prince and heir my kingdom needs.

Your loving grandfather and High King Galrach,

High King of Galanta,

Emperor of the Eternal Throne to Alaiann.

I read the letter twice, and slowly, fiery anger morphed into cold fury. I pocketed the parchment with trembling hands. This was a problem for when Nayana was safe with me again. For now, nothing else mattered except getting her back. I didn’t care if all the worlds burned. Fuck that, I’d be the one to incinerate them if it was necessary because the one thing I’d sworn to keep safe forever—theonlyone that mattered in the end—was in danger. And I wouldn’t rest until I got her back.

To be continued…