Chapter 4
Loche
With his pulse still thundering in his ears, Loche looked out over the crowd of Fae and humans.
They all remained standing in those neat lines the souls had pushed them into, many faces still blanched from fear, even as the door behind Lessia and her friends slammed shut.
Finding Zaddock’s eyes where he was perched a few feet from the door, having watched as Amalise slipped through with the rest, Loche jerked his head toward the dark fireplaces, and thankfully, his friend understood.
As Zaddock got to work on getting the little light they could back into this room, Loche’s eyes drifted to Iviry’s blue ones, and the intensity of them rushed over his skin until he looked away.
She was so composed. At least that’s how she looked to Loche, standing straight-backed and with her shoulders lowered as her sharp gaze swept through the room. Her features were relaxed, yet not weak, as she gave one of her men a whispered order.
Loche didn’t doubt she could hear his heart still beating against his rib cage when her eyes trailed over him, and he was about to make a quip about adrenaline being necessary, when he caught himself, swallowing the words she might take the wrong way.
He’d already messed up enough with her the night after the battle…
Loche moved to watch Zaddock work on the second fire, his thoughts refusing to let him escape the memory of Iviry approaching him on the ship after they’d finally captured all the prisoners and tended to injured and frightened soldiers.
The scent of blood was still harsh in the air, and Loche angrily wiped at his face when a tear escaped as he thought of how many of his men he’d lost today—when he thought of the house calls he’d have to make, the hearts he’d have to break when they returned to Asker, where most of their families lived.
Fuck. It had been one day of battle, and he was already sick of it.
He didn’t want this.
He’d fought his way to become regent to make Ellow a better place. Not for this… Not for bloodshed and pain and death.
A presence sidled up to him, and he turned his face away, knowing there would be streaks down his cheeks betraying his weakness and that his eyes would surely tell whoever it was too much—let them know he wasn’t ready for this.
Because that was the truth, wasn’t it?
He wasn’t ready to be regent if this was the cost he’d let his people pay.
He’d allowed too many to die—too many to lose friends and family.
“Empathy isn’t a weakness, regent.”
Loche had no idea how he could recognize Iviry’s voice so quickly, how it resounded within him like a bow quivering after an arrow was released. But he did. It was as if he’d always known it, and he wasn’t sure what to feel about that.
“Empathy might not be, but not being able to protect my people is,” Loche responded, keeping his eyes on the cliff where several of those Faelings sat with their legs dangling.
Apparently, one of the older ones had managed to find a narrow path into the cliff, and she’d ensured they were all kept safe during the battle, together with several of his people who weren’t equipped to try to fight those damned shifter-birds.
“You did all you could,” Iviry replied softly, and he could tell her eyes wished for his to land on her blues.
Why he fought the urge to look at her, he didn’t know, but it just… it would be too much to see the kindness he expected within them, so he stared ahead until the world blurred.
“We all did,” Iviry continued. “And you did protect your people. No one entered Ellow’s waters, not really, and while men and women died today, they did so for what they believe in—which is you.”
A scoff flew from his mouth before he could quell it.
“I doubt they believe in me. The son of the rebel leader. A halfling. It’s only a matter of time before the council calls for my stepping down.” He blinked hard against the dimming light behind the dark island as he thought of those bastards.
They’d fought for years to find something on him, just as he had on them.
Now? Now they had all they needed.
He jerked when Iviry laid her hand on the one he had resting on the railing, and before he could stop himself, he turned toward her, the shock of how blue her eyes were hammering into his chest.
A side of her mouth quirked, and he wondered once more just how much she felt from him, but if she knew what he was thinking, she didn’t say. Instead, she squeezed his hand, and her eyes sliced for a moment toward the people still working all around them before moving back to his.
“I’ve been down there. They believe in you, Loche.” Iviry’s smile hiked higher. “They’re talking of a new era, and perhaps that’s just what Havlands needs.”
Loche frowned at her. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen war before. The time immediately after is crucial—when it’s still fresh in people’s minds. Maybe it’s time for a new council, one led by elected people, maybe even a council that spans Ellow and Vastala, to avoid this happening again.”
A council that spanned both nations?
Loche’s eyes held on to those ocean-blue ones. That’s what he’d spoken of for years. That’s what he’d hoped to bring to Ellow—to make both lands prosper again.
“Maybe it is time,” Loche said slowly. “I thought… I had hoped that with Lessia and me we could achieve that… That’s why I offered her to rule beside me… But maybe I can do it alone.”
The light in Iviry’s eyes flickered for a moment, and when her hand left his, an emptiness he’d never felt before trickled across his skin like cool rain in the summer.
The Fae drew two breaths before she nodded, her tone shifting into a more formal one. “The Fae have asked me to take interim leadership of Vastala, and I also believe we need more collaboration to avoid this in the future. I shall help you set it up, regent.”
“Iviry,” Loche started, but his voice faded when something like hurt touched his mind.
Fuck. Was that… was that her pain?
“Iviry,” he tried again. “I… I know we haven’t spoken about the mate bond, but…”
Lessia walked onto the deck at that moment. His eyes flew her way when people parted for her and Merrick, fear and awe mingling in their gazes as they whispered her name.
When he forced his gaze back to Iviry, she’d straightened, her smile so alluring it took his breath, even though he could tell it wasn’t real.
The Fae had put on a mask—one he was entirely too familiar with.
“You love her,” she said in a monotone.
Loche winced, and that appeared to be enough for Iviry.
“Just my luck.” Iviry threw her hair back, her tongue wetting her lips. “Somehow, I always stumble upon the unavailable ones.”
“I’m so—” he started, but she cut him off.
“It’s all good.” The Fae winked at him. “Happens to the best of us. I’ll find another to distract me, don’t worry.”
With that, she spun around and approached two enormous Fae males Loche had seen her talking to earlier, and she was true to her word: Iviry laced her fingers with the one closest to him, dragging toward the stern of the ship, where others had gathered to get some food and wine.
Loche shook his head as he watched the flames Zaddock had finally managed to ignite, forcing his mind back to the present and to the room with the cracked walls and missing windows, where Iviry’s and his people waited in silence.
The memory from that day did little to calm his racing heart…
especially after having his own people come after him.
Loche didn’t believe that they’d truly hurt him, but they were afraid of the Fae—they were afraid of the sparks of magic that flew through the room, of their tall frames and their otherness.
He could see it in their eyes.
“Regent.” Iviry’s voice was as detached as it had been when she’d spoken to him over the past few days. “We should probably begin before they forget all about why they’re nearly pissing themselves right now.”
Right.
He appreciated that Lessia had realized so quickly that they needed to get their people aligned before they could tackle the prisoners’ fate—that she’d given them the time to figure this out.
Maybe he should have been as worried as she was about the people in those dark cellars—especially with his mother down there—but right now he had people to take care of, and he needed to do what he could to ensure they would be comfortable collaborating with the Fae.
Nodding to himself as if it might give him strength, Loche made his feet walk to Iviry’s side, and even though Lessia had been fucking terrifying, he was glad that she’d been able to calm everyone down.
Tensions had run high ever since the battle, and he’d just been waiting for a clash of wills—or fear—to happen.
Even if the air was still thick with emotions, it remained quiet when he ordered, “What just happened here cannot happen again.” His eyes flew across human and Fae, meeting as many gazes as he could as he continued.
“We have an army of Fae coming this way, and they’re not a threat just to us humans. ”
Loche waited a beat to see if anyone would call out that he wasn’t just human—not really—but the room remained silent, so he kept going.
“Like Elessia said, we need to stand together now. Everyone in Havlands needs to stand shoulder to shoulder, kind by kind. It doesn’t matter if we’re human or Fae or even shifter, because if we don’t… we’ll die all the same.”
“He’s right,” Iviry called out, her voice bouncing against the walls.
“Fae of Vastala! Your king tricked you so that he could remain on the throne. He was planning to sacrifice so many of you to kill these humans… and because of greed! Rioner is the cause of the army coming our way, because he turned down our brethren—another race of Fae—when they were in need!”