Hymn of Breath and Bone (The Whispering Sea Duet #2)

Chapter 10

The meeting with the council took twice as long as I’d intended and was about ten times more infuriating than it needed to be.

“The council hasn’t agreed—” Arctos began.

“This is not up for debate,” I interrupted, cutting the old windbag off before he could derail my purpose. “I’m not asking for permission, Arctos. Nor am I asking for your blessing. I’m asking you simply to do it for the good of us all.”

“The good of us all,” Arctos sneered, his lips curling in disgust. “The best thing would be to send her father her head and see the whole selkie line come to ruin.”

“Careful, Arctos,” Hesperus warned, his voice irritatingly calm as my fists clenched in fury. “None of us will step in if you threaten the king’s mate and he decides to kill you for it.”

I nodded slightly to Hesperus, taking a breath and willing my fury to dampen. Hesperus wasn’t exactly an ally, but he wasn’t an outspoken opponent like Arctos.

The old siren had been a staunch supporter of my father, only allowed to live because he bent the knee and swore fealty. He was a headache then and a headache now, and I cursed myself for not killing him years ago like the Stormcrow.

Much good that had done me.

I hadn’t told the council what I’d learned, instead reporting to them that I’d killed the assailants in the library. It was only a half-lie. I had killed at least one of the sirens who had attacked Marina and Ana, although not as slowly as I would have liked.

I fingered the scar on my chest absently, cursing my na?veté. I should have made sure the Stormcrow was dead. I had thought breaking his wings and tossing him in the sea was a fitting execution, the only one I could stomach after I killed my father and—unintentionally—my mother, but perhaps the gods had other plans for him.

Plans that involved hurting my mate.

I couldn’t wait until we were to meet Marina’s father in Nordhavn to deal with the Stormcrow, or whoever was pretending to be him. I needed to go as soon as possible.

Marina would hate me for it.

“I see no reason to wait,” Mesembria said, shaking me from my thoughts as she addressed Arctos in her usual whimsical lilt. “This is not an ideal situation, but the gods have made their choice. Who are we to question them?”

“Indeed,” Eos agreed, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. “We may as well have the deed done. His Majesty will gain power if nothing else, and having control of the Selkie Princess may allow us to bargain with the Selkie King.”

“She’s not a bargaining chip,” I snapped, glowering at Eos. Shrewd and coldly practical, she had been the first to ally with me when I challenged my father. Her support always came with conditions, however, and her deep-seated dislike for the selkies was hard to overcome. I always marveled at how different Ana was in temperament, wishing not for the first time that she was here instead of her mother.

“The vote is yours, Hesperus,” Eos said, ignoring me and turning to the youngest council member. He was impossible to read, practically carved from stone, but he had never actively voiced dissent against me, and he’d bent the knee readily when I took the crown.

“Let it be so,” he replied with a shrug, ignoring Arctos’ enraged spluttering and turning to me. “The people don’t seem to oppose it, and perhaps she can convince her father to yield to your bloodline if she’s mated to you.”

I nodded in thanks as we turned to the work of planning the ceremony, which would be far less ostentatious than Marina deserved. With winter approaching, we had to be careful with our supplies. It would soon be too stormy to safely trade with the Darklands or Nordhavn, and it was vital we have enough for my people to make it to spring if Marina and I failed.

Negotiating the actual ceremony was painfully arduous. Arctos and Eos argued about traditions and wordings and venue and time of day while Hesperus listened in stony silence. Mesembria occasionally tried and failed to interject her opinion, but eventually, the thing was settled in a way that at least didn’t make me want to gouge my own eyes out.

If it were up to me, I’d take Marina somewhere far away and make her mine without fuss or ceremony or nonsense as soon as possible.

But the council needed tradition, the people needed a symbol of unity, and I needed to keep everyone together and alive long enough to meet with Marina’s father.

So a simple ceremony at sunset the next day atop the cliffs it would be. Maybe I could still take Marina somewhere and—

My increasingly filthy thoughts were interrupted as Zephyr stopped me in the hall on my way out to collect my mate.

“You’re supposed to be guarding Marina,” I growled before she had the chance to explain herself.

“I know,” she said with uncharacteristic gravity. “She’s safe, I promise, but—”

“Where is she?” I asked, panic rising at her tone as I moved swiftly down the hall and prepared to take to the skies.

“Your room, but Cas—”

“You’d better have a damned good reason for leaving her unguarded.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Zephyr snapped, matching my pace at a near jog. “I put two of your personal crew on the door. But Cas—”

“What could possibly be so important that—”

“SHE KNOWS,” Zephyr shouted, physically hauling me to a stop at the end of the hall. The wind howled against the stone cliffs beyond the curtain of moss that hid the nearest entrance, but the sound didn’t register as all thought hollowed out. “She knows, Cas. About your father.”