17. King Nathaniel
17
KING NATHANIEL
ELDRIN
A s soon as I clear the castle gates, King Nathaniel’s personal guards escort me inside the castle. Goddess, I hope I can keep my wits about me. Giving up Jaden and Oakes was almost as hard for me as it would have been giving up Wyn.
And the scream she let out when she watched them disappear? Fuck, I think I’m dying inside. But I knew we were all about to die if I didn’t sacrifice someone.
This is why I never wished to be king. The responsibility of my people’s lives is too much to bear. My only hope is believing in Jaden and Oakes’ abilities. I will do everything in my power to destroy that mage for how she made me hurt my mate and mate brothers.
Fortunately, Nathaniel’s soldiers don’t immediately deliver me to the dungeons to die. Instead, they usher me up the winding stairs to meet with their king. I suppose Nathaniel is curious to hear what I risked my life and liberty to say—not to mention the more devastating loss of Jaden and Oakes. Perhaps the king saw his changeling daughter and his own secret daughter at the gates below and is wondering why only I was allowed inside.
It doesn’t matter why he wants to talk to me. I have an agenda of my own. I need to focus on gathering my influencer magic in case I need it to persuade the king to listen to me.
At the door to King Nathaniel’s private meeting room, I take a deep breath. One guard knocks and announces my arrival.
“Enter,” King Nathaniel’s voice bellows through the thick wood door.
Understanding the need for diplomacy, I give a slight bow of my head in respect to the human king as I step into the chamber. King Nathaniel stands behind his large wooden desk, arms crossed, glaring at me.
“What happened to Twyla?” He growls, and his whole body strains with barely contained violence.
“Unfortunately, I do not know,” I answer, sounding as worried as I am. “On our way to speak with you, she fell under a spell. I believe that the same mage who has put a spell on the elves outside your walls is also behind her condition. And it seems to be the same Mage Weaver who linked Wyn and Twyla as infants.”
“And all this has nothing at all to do with you?” Nathaniel cocks his brow in challenge.
“No, none of this is my doing. My father may work with this mage, but I don’t want to see anyone harmed. Not you, or Twyla, or the inhabitants of either realm. Just so you understand how invested I am in talking with you and maintaining peace…” I choke up with the reminder.
“How do I know it isn’t some sort of ruse?” he demands.
I clench my jaw in frustration. I can barely keep my temper at bay when I am being accused of such things. The image of Wyn in my mind reminds me I need to keep a level head. “My actions are speaking for themselves. As soon as I was able, after escaping your dungeon and imminent death, I rounded up all the ghouls and sent them back to Elfhame.”
“Out of the goodness of your black heart?” Nathaniel sneers, then finally sits down in his chair, some of his ire settling upon hearing that the ghouls are gone.
I sigh wearily. I expected to be met with resistance during this meeting with the king, but my ego struggles to deal with these insults.
“After I returned to my realm with Wynstelle on my father’s command, I began gathering support to stop my father and this war. I don’t want the senseless death and destruction that it will cause. Hopefully, you are of the same mindset. Besides our kingdoms being ripped apart, my primary concern is personal. Wynstelle would likely be subjected to more attacks if she were to remain with me in Elfhame, and we wouldn’t be able to seek refuge here for similar reasons. So the war cannot take root.” I stare deep into King Nathaniel’s eyes and say with conviction. “I love Wynstelle with my entire heart, whether or not you think it is dark. I don’t want her to suffer any more than she already has.”
King Nathaniel doesn’t immediately respond but studies me, as I still stand before him. “So, why are you here now?”
“I suspect you are preparing to retaliate against Elfhame,” I explain, finally sitting down across the desk from the king. “I only ask that you put off escalating this conflict until I can confront my father and his allies.”
“Confront?” Nathaniel scoffs. “You think a scolding by his impertinent son will stop a tyrant like him?”
“I’m willing to take whatever measures are necessary,” I confess my murderous intentions with tense shoulders.
King Nathaniel leans forward in his chair, glowering at me with my allusion to regicide. “I don’t think you have what it takes to do what is necessary .”
“I suppose we’ll soon find out.”
I stare back into King Nathaniel’s judgmental eyes. The color and shape are so similar to Wyn’s, but the souls behind them are drastically different. Wyn is filled with hope and encouragement. When she tries to lift my spirits, I feel like I could fly. Nathaniel is filled with rage and condemnation, which makes me want to crawl into a hole and hide.
“That will only be possible if I let you leave here alive,” Nathaniel threatens.
I also lean forward and warn, “If you don’t let me leave, your entire kingdom will be in ruins, and both of your daughters will probably die from the fallout.”
King Nathaniel rubs his chin, considering my argument for far too long. “Fine. I will give you three days. No more. And if those crazed elves haven’t been removed from my lands, I will wipe out your kind, your lands, and you personally .”
“If I don’t succeed, then I won’t blame you for trying.”
Nathaniel narrows his eyes. “Why didn’t you bring Twyla and Wynstelle inside with you?”
“The mage would not let them pass. She asked for me to pick a princess to sacrifice, but I refused and she took my advisors in their place.”
Nathaniel blinks in surprise. “You gave up your own advisors, my daughter’s mates , so that you could talk to me about holding off my attack?”
I press my lips into a thin line. Has he not been hearing what I’ve said?
“I hope that this convinces you of my intentions to stop this war.”
Shaking his head, Nathaniel says, “I hope your sacrifice was worth it and that it doesn’t destroy Wynstelle to lose her mates.”
“So do I.”
With that, King Nathaniel allows me to leave peacefully. As I pass through the castle gates, I notice that Wyn and my entourage are nowhere in sight. The bespelled elves glare at me in nerve-racking silence, but thankfully don’t prevent me from passing by.
After riding past them, the elves say in unison, speaking for the Mage Weaver, “Whatever you have planned, it won’t work.”
I don’t bother to respond. What can I say in retaliation, anyway?
There’s so much that can go wrong. I don’t know if confronting my father will stop all of this madness. Even if I kill my sire, will Mage Idril stop if he is no longer on the throne? Will Commander Turgon stop? Or will they continue to wage war in my father’s memory?
Then there is the fact my father is much more skilled than I am. In a fair fight, I would likely lose. The only thing I have going for me is I have someone to fight for.
I just hope she can forgive me for what’s happened.
I expand my newly awakened psychic senses and feel around blindly for my mate bond with Wyn. The bond hasn’t been as strong since the mark was destroyed on Twyla’s back, temporarily breaking our connection. It’s a miracle that we could reestablish one again.
However, most of the weakness in our link is my fault. I’ve almost completely shut down our connection, trying to protect her from being corrupted by my energy. That tactic has only driven a wedge between us.
Now that our magical reserves are both diminished, our connection is so muted that I can’t sense where she is at all. I can only make out that she is alive. Thank the stars for that small blessing.
I have to find her, apologize for my actions, and then find my advisors. If they die, I will be heartbroken, but a broken mate bond will utterly devastate Wyn.
Using logic instead of magic, I head toward the portal. It’s a safe bet, and as I move farther away from the castle, I observe fresh horse tracks on the frozen ground. From the number of tracks, it appears the human soldiers escorted Wyn and Twyla away from the dangerous Elven soldiers.
Following the trail, I find the others hidden in a copse of evergreen trees not far from the portal.
I hear Wyn before I see her.
“Is that Eldrin?” she gasps and pushes through the crowd.
Jumping down from my horse, I rush to meet her. I snatch her up in my arms and hold her so tight that neither of us can breathe.
Wyn pulls back and glares at me. Then she grabs me by the hand and leads me away from the others. “Please tell me that talking to my father was worth…” Her voice catches in her throat with emotion. “… sacrificing them.”
“I believe my talk was successful. They sacrificed themselves so that it wasn’t you who was taken. But I shouldn’t have allowed any of that to happen at all. And on that note, why would you do something as dangerous as to volunteer?”
“I know it was rash, but I couldn’t allow her to take Twyla,” Wyn explains, looking repentant, her gaze dropping to the cold ground. “Besides, I planned to communicate with Oakes where the mage took me.”
I catch her chin with my finger to lift her eyes to meet mine. “None of us would have let you go that easily.”
Wyn nods, and a tear streams down her cheek.
“King Nathaniel has given me three days to stop my father.” I smile weakly, knowing it’s a poor win. “That is something.”
Frustration bubbles within her. Wyn double-checks that we are far enough away from prying ears and eyes. She grabs at my chest. “But now they are gone! ” she hisses, and then tears pour down her face.
My heart cracks. And I deserve all the pain from her sadness.
“Can you reach out to Oakes through your mental link?” I ask hopefully.
“No!” she snaps. “I’ve tried and tried, but I don’t know if my magic is weakened, the distance is too far, or if our bond is broken.”
I dare to caress her cheek and wipe the tears from her face. “If he were dead, or your bonds were broken, you would have felt it… like before.”
“But what if our bonds aren’t as strong this time? They don’t quite feel the same.” Wyn grabs onto the front of my doublet and pulls me closer, needing me to comfort her. “What if she is slowly killing them?”
I wrap my arms around her body, hoping to soothe some of her angst. “We can’t think like that. They are strong and resourceful.”
“We shouldn’t have gone to the castle,” Wyn screams into my chest. “We should have fought the soldiers when they expected us to go.”
Fuck. I have to make this right. “I didn’t know this would happen. I thought we could appease the soldiers… your father. It didn’t seem Idril was going to kill us the first time we confronted the soldiers. I never considered she’d demand one of us for payment to pass. If I knew…” I gently lift Wyn’s chin again so that she will look at me. “Would you have sacrificed anyone else in our party for our sake? Even a random human soldier.”
“No.” Wyn frowns, obviously hating my argument. “It just hurts…”
“I wish I could fix it this very minute.” I hold her close.
“I know.”
“How is Twyla doing?” I ask, my voice soft and filled with concern.
“The same.” Wyn wipes her eyes dry. “Do you know who can help her? I tried, but my magic but it didn’t work.”
“On our way to Ryven Castle, we’ll go to the mage temple first.” I cast my gaze out toward the portal. “Maybe Neven can give us some guidance beyond healing Twyla. She knows the ways of this Unseelie Mage. My instincts tell me that Neven has kept much from us.”
“Is it wise to go there and trust her with Twyla’s safety?” Wyn asks, then she bites her lip. I sense she wants to believe in the goodness of our magical advisor.
“At this point?” I consider my answer. “The temple is probably the safest place for all of us.”
Wyn holds me around the waist, and finally her breathing evens out.
“Are you ready?” I ask, my voice soft. I wish I didn’t have to push her to travel more. But I’d rather have the safety of the temple walls to rest and not outside in the mortal realm.
Wyn nods and slides her hand in mine and I thank the goddess she finds comfort in me.
We rejoined our three Elven guards, Merlara, Rhys, Twyla, and the host of human soldiers.
“Pack up. We head out now,” I order.
“Where?” Rhys asks, anger not so gently stirring under his skin.
“Elfhame.” I nod to the unconscious princess in the commander’s arms. “It’s probably our only promising course of action to break the spell on Twyla.”
“Not a chance!” Rhys stands up in protest. “How do I know that this isn’t some crazy trick?”
“You don’t,” I agree. “But do you know of anyone who has the magic needed to break the princess out of a spell created by one of the most powerful Elven mages that has ever existed?”
Rhys drops his gaze to the ground where Twyla has been set on a blanket. His shoulders slump, evidently realizing the truth in my words. He shakes his head. “No, I don’t.”
“Then I suggest we go to the mage temple for Twyla’s sake. After we settle her there, I’ll go confront my father to stop this war.”
“Fine,” Rhys grumbles and angrily packs the few supplies he has out. “But we are taking my men as an escort.”
“I’m not sure if it is a good idea to bring in perceived hostile troops into my father’s lands.” As soon as I’ve said it, I realize I can use the extra protection for Wyn and Twyla. “Alright. Just remind them we are on a mission to de-escalate the violence. They can’t attack without my order to do so.”
Rhys considers my demands and then holds his hand out to shake. “Agreed.”
After a long moment, I accept the human gesture and take Rhys’ hand, solidifying our pact.