Chapter 14 Khiona #2
“Do you have any idea what she plans to do?” Lord Taedo asked.
Andar sighed. “Honestly, my lord, I believe we are only here because she is preoccupied with revenge and finding out if Prince Bylur is a threat to her.”
“Ah.” Lord Taedo’s voice lifted in the tones of a smile. “Well, hopefully Prince Bylur proves to be a bigger threat than she expects.”
Andar sipped from his mug. “Can you tell us anything of his plans?”
Lord Taedo answered. “Prince Bylur has made some interesting propositions. He’d like to organize a council to rule Kalshana.
I suspect he’ll be able to rally enough of our nobility to defeat the queen.
She is powerful, but everyone has their limits.
One person, even a queen, can only manipulate so much magic before she is exhausted, and if enough of us are ready for that moment—” He huffed a small chuckle.
“Maybe we’ll get lucky and those cursed dragons will take care of her for us. ”
Andar tensed, the hand on my arm stilling.
I lifted my head to see what was wrong, but Lord Taedo caught my eye.
He stood up and nodded at me. “Regardless, you are welcome to take refuge in the city from the dragons. Or the queen, though I’ll confess that our forces as they are may not be enough to keep her out. ”
Oh, he thought he was so clever. He would keep me out? He invited me in! I nearly stood up and brought down an icy death on them all, but Andar’s hand on my upper arm kept me seated. And harmless.
Andar’s voice tightened. “Thank you, my lord.”
* * *
I kept my head down and snatched the mug of steaming chamomile when Andar stood to escort me back to our room. The two guards remained in position—apparently Lord Taedo didn’t trust us entirely—but as soon as the door closed behind us, I wanted to scream.
Instead, I hissed a whisper at Andar. “Can you believe him?! Telling me to my face that he will keep me out of his city?!”
A slow smirk lifted Andar’s eyes. “I thought you’d be more offended by him hoping the ice dragons killed you.”
I squeezed the mug of chamomile, letting ice gather around my fingers and the cup. “Right?! The insolence! And audacity!”
A silent chuckle shook Andar’s chest. “It’s almost like he was baiting you.” He set his mug down on the table next to our empty stew bowls.
My indignation dried up as I considered that. “Do you think he was?” That would have been incredibly clever, much more devious than I’d expect out of any of the city lords in Kalshana.
Andar’s face turned serious. “No. I do not think he knows who you are.”
I pointed at the door. “He left his soldiers.”
Andar shrugged. “A precaution. He doesn’t trust us, but he doesn’t think you are the Snow Queen. He would not have been so relaxed or confident if he did.”
His reassurance calmed my concern and annoyance.
I sipped my chamomile tea and nearly melted in satisfaction.
“You were perfect,” I said, before I talked myself out of giving him the credit he’d earned.
“You kept his focus deflected and got all the information I hoped for. I—” I stopped, shocked at myself for nearly uttering the unfathomable.
I’d almost told him I owed him a debt. Instead, I settled with, “I am impressed.”
He took a step closer to me and let a smile stretch across his face. “You are impressed that I did what I told you I would? Am I not fae?”
The mug I held felt heavy and awkward as he loomed closer. I set it on the table and reached an unsteady hand to my waist, again missing the blade that used to hang there. That hilt had always been the perfect place to release nerves—something to grab while sending an intimidating message.
But I hadn’t had it for years. Of course, I hadn’t been flustered like this before either.
Andar stepped closer again, close enough that I could have lifted my hands and pushed him away. He slid his mug next to mine, but he didn’t touch me. “Did you expect me to agree to your charade and then sabotage it?”
Instead of touching him, I spread my hands to my sides and whisper-shouted back. “What do you want me to say? That I’m grateful for your help? That I appreciate you? That I am in your debt?”
He gripped my upper arms—gently—and stared at me, his bright blue eyes burning and his voice low and gravelly. “I do not want you to feel indebted to me. I am glad that you are pleased with the information you heard.”
My stomach flipped. He did not want me to feel indebted to him? Even with all the extra things he’d done for me? “That is not normal. Fae always want to be on the favorable side of a debt.”
He tipped his head. “Not always. Not among friends and family.”
I stepped away from him and folded my arms. “Especially among friends and family.”
He eyed me for a moment, as if unsure of himself for the first time all day, but then he extended a hand.
Eyeing it suspiciously, I met his gaze. “What is that for?”
He flicked his fingers in a “Come” gesture, and I crumbled. How was I supposed to resist such an invitation after the performance he’d just done for me? He might claim not to want a debt, but I owed him.
I set my hand in his, and he tugged me to the bed. I stopped right in front of it. “What are you doing?”
A light flush ran across his forehead. “I just want to talk, and this seemed like the most comfortable place. It’s either here or the wooden chairs at the table. Or the floor, I suppose.”
My brows popped up. “Just… talk?”
“Yes.” He climbed onto the bed with all the grace of an ice acrobat and pointed to the far side of the mattress. “Just talk.”
“Fine.” I sat as far away from him as I could. “What do you want to talk about?”
He picked up a pillow and set it on his lap. “I told you my story—my family and how I was trapped. I would like to know yours—your family and how you were trapped.”
I copied his idea with the pillow, clenching it between my hands. “And if I tell you this, our debt will be resolved?”
He shook his head and his eyes filled with that burning glow again. “There is no debt.”
I didn’t believe him. I didn’t know how his fae nature allowed him to say the words, but it was not possible that he wouldn’t want the Snow Queen to owe him. Unless he wanted to save the debt for something bigger later. “Admit it,” I demanded.
One of his brows popped up. “Admit what?”
“Say the words—that sharing this will eliminate my debt to you!”
He shook his head again. “I already told you—”
I leaned into my pillow. “Then I’m not talking.”
“Shh.” He pointed a finger at the door, reminding me to stay softer.
I folded my arms and lowered my volume. “If you want to know my story, I need you to say that it will satisfy my debt to you.”
Andar sighed, deep and slow, and then leaned across the bed with a hand stretched out to me, as if he wanted to make a bargain.
Curious, I set my hand in his. As he spoke, a wave of magic carried an air of truth deep into my soul.
“You do not owe me any debt. But, if you did, telling me the story of your family and how you came to be imprisoned would certainly satisfy it.”
He let go of my hand, and I straightened up, backing to the edge of my side of the bed again. I wasn’t sure what he was doing to my heart, but the longing it felt when he touched me was terrifying. I needed as much space between us as the bed allowed.
I wrapped my arms around a pillow and checked my voice. I wanted to tell him my story—I wanted it to balance the debt I owed him for the charade he was giving me. But I did not want anyone else to overhear.
Andar raised a finger, and then waved it in a circle.
“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that earlier,” he muttered.
Louder, he said, “I’ve created a silencing ward.
Nobody can hear anything we say.” His brows furrowed.
“Someone with the right magic or experience could detect it though—would you like me to remove it?”
“No.” I settled into the bed. “If someone recognizes it, I think they will accept the idea that I am stressed and anxious and don’t want anyone listening to me.”
He stacked the pillows and blankets nearest him and leaned into them.
I took a deep breath. I had never told my story to anyone. But he had told me his—he could claim I owed him mine.
But he hadn’t.
I set that thought aside for later and focused on what he wanted to know.
My family and my downfall. My eyes fell to the bed.
“I was born into a ruthless game of power. My mother’s cousin was the king for my early childhood, but my parents killed him and his wife and took the throne.
They taught me that if you had enough of the right kind of power, you could have or do anything you wanted. ”
I risked a glance up at Andar, but his expression revealed none of his thoughts, so I dropped my gaze again and continued.
“What I really wanted was to be acknowledged, wanted for who I was and not how much power I could command. But the only way my parents would see me was through my power. The only true way to earn their respect was to defeat them. I found extra power in structuring my magic into crystalline patterns, guarded my vulnerable feelings, destroyed my parents, took the throne, and united Kalshana under my crystal banner. Nobody dared to defy me.”
Because I killed anyone who dared, like I’d nearly killed the musicians—musicians he’d convinced me to keep alive.
He did not seem to like murder, despite claiming to have started more wars than I had.
How did I tell this next part without appearing more cruel than he liked?
I squeezed a pillow, squishing the air out of it.
What did it matter if he thought I was cruel?
He said he’d done similar things. And he was only helping me because I’d freed him.
Eventually I’d destroy Prince Bylur and demand the noble lords submit to my rule again.
The kingdom’s power would be mine. One summer fae’s opinion of me did not matter.