Chapter 50
FIFTY
ALLERIA
It takes me a moment to understand that the horse I’m riding is no longer moving.
It’s been three days since Nella betrayed me, and Brennan took me away.
Three days of trying and failing to reach Cairn.
The sound of horses hooves has become such a constant that it continues in my head even after the horse has stopped.
I blink, lifting my head to look around, and my breath freezes in my lungs. Ahead of us, the gates to the palace rise.
Home.
The word used to mean safety once. The place where I grew up, where my father rules, and I know every hallway, courtyard, and hiding spot. Now I look at those familiar walls and feel nothing but dread.
With a soft sound, Brennan spurs the horse forward again, and we head toward the gates.
I don’t know why I’m surprised that nothing has changed. The king's banners still hang from the parapets. The guards at the gate still wear the same colors, and nod as we pass through.
Everything is the same as it was when Cairn stole me away. The only thing that isn’t is me.
Brennan reins in near the stables and dismounts. When he reaches up to pull me down, I don’t fight him. There’s little point. There’s nowhere left to run. He draws the dagger from its sheath at his hip and cuts the rope binding my hands together.
“This way, Princess.” His hand curves around my elbow.
I pull away from him, and take a step forward. My thighs are aching from the days of being in the saddle. My back is a solid knot of pain, and the skin on my wrists has been rubbed by the ropes until it’s red and sensitive.
But I will hold my head up and walk into the palace like the princess I was born to be. I will not let anyone hold me up like I’m weak and frail.
Brennan’s hand finds my arm again, steering me toward a small door set into the side of the stables. A servant’s entrance, which means Brennan is avoiding the main halls and keeping me out of sight.
The servant passages are narrow and dim. We climb stairs I’ve used maybe twice in my life, and emerge in a hallway near my father’s private chambers. Brennan stops outside the study door and speaks to one of the guards in a low voice. The guard disappears inside.
I stand silently beside Brennan, and try to prepare myself. But my mind feels stuffed with wool. I’m tired, sore, and scared of what might be coming.
The door opens again.
“Bring her in.”
My father’s voice. I know every tone of it. The warmth when he’s pleased, the steel when he’s angry, and the careful formality when he’s holding something back. This is none of those. This is something I’ve never heard before.
Brennan guides me through the doorway.
The study looks just as it did the last time I stood in it. The heavy desk is cluttered with papers, the shelves are lined with books. And my father is sitting behind his desk, writing. When he sees me, the quill slips from his fingers.
“Alleria.”
He’s around the desk and pulling me into his arms before I can speak. His hold is crushing, his hands fisting into the back of my tunic.
“Thank the gods! You’re alive.” The words come out ragged. “When the days kept passing, and there was no word, I thought—”
I wrap my arms around him. “I’m all right.”
He pulls back eventually, his hands framing my face. “You’ve lost weight. You need food, a bath, and rest.” He glances toward the door, raising his voice. “Someone fetch the healer, and have a bath drawn in the princess’s chambers.”
A servant scurries off, and my father’s arm settles around my shoulder.
“I don’t need a healer. I’m not hurt.”
“Humor your father.” He turns us both toward the door. “Come. We can talk later, once you’ve rested.”
As we pass Brennan standing just outside the doorway, my father pauses.
“Wait here. I want a full report once I have my daughter settled.”
Brennan nods. His eyes meet mine for a moment, then we’re past him and out into the hallway.
“Take the princess to her chamber,” he instructs one of the guards, then squeezes my shoulder. “Rest. I’ll come up as soon as I’m done here.” Then he’s gone, back into the study with Brennan on his heels.
“Your Highness?” I turn to the guard waiting for me, and nod, following him through the familiar hallways. He keeps glancing at me, but doesn’t try to make conversation.
When we reach my chambers, he stops in the doorway. “Your bath will be ready shortly. Is there anything else you need?”
“No. Thank you.” He bows and leaves, pulling the door closed behind him.
I walk to the window and look out at the gardens below. The roses are blooming. They weren’t blooming when Cairn spirited me away.
How long has it been? Weeks? More than a month? I’ve lost track. So much has changed in that time.
I should sit down. My legs are trembling, and the ache in my thighs has spread up into my hips. But I keep standing at the window, watching the gardeners tend the rose bushes. I can’t make myself move.
Somewhere below me, Brennan will be telling my father what he found. He’ll explain how Nella saw him in the common room of the inn. Then they’ll question Nella too. She was with me. She saw everything. Me training with fae, eating with them, living among them willingly.
What will my father think?
My hand drifts up to my throat and the marks Cairn left there. Brennan didn’t mention them on the ride here, but he must have seen them. Does he think they’re marks of violence or can he tell they’re bites of passion?
My fingers drift down, seeking out the chain around my neck. My heart stops. My breathing stills.
It’s gone.
Spinning, I hurry across to the mirror and stare at my reflection. The collar … the chain Cairn turned it into … it’s gone. Is that why I couldn’t reach him? Does the collar have something to do with the connection?
No. No, he said it was the blood bond … and the Nightwild magic. It has nothing to do with the collar.
A knock at the door snaps me out of the thoughts spiraling in my head, and I turn as servants file in with buckets of steaming water, filling the tub in the corner.
Another brings a tray of food—roasted chicken, honeyed parsnips, fresh bread, and a slice of spiced apple cake. She sets it on the table by the window.
“Cook wanted you to have your favorites, Highness.”
“Thank her for me.”
They leave as quietly as they arrived. I stay where I am, thinking about Cairn.
Is he looking for me? Or has he decided I’m not worth the trouble?
If it’s not because of the collar that I can’t reach him, is it because he’s given up on me? Maybe I would deserve it if he had. Vel was shot because of me.
I force myself to move to the tub, unlacing my clothes as I walk, letting them fall to the floor, and climb into the water. The heat stings my skin, and I sink lower, rest my head back against the rim and close my eyes.
The water is cooling before I move to wash, scrubbing my skin until it turns pink. My hair is tangled, and I don’t have the patience to work through them, so I yank the comb through, ripping out knots, not caring when it hurts.
Once I’m done, I climb out and dress. The silken material feels strange against my skin, the skirts swirling around my legs making me feel oddly undressed after wearing tunic and pants for so long.
My eyes move to the untouched food, the chicken congealing in its glaze, and my stomach turns. I can’t face food right now. Not when I need to know what they’re telling my father about me.
I’m sitting in front of the mirror when the knock comes.
“Your Highness. The king requests your presence.”
My stomach drops.
“Give me a second.”
I look in the mirror. My hair is damp, hanging loose around my face. The neckline of my dress sits low enough that the faded marks on my throat are visible, even with my hair down. There’s nothing I can do about it. I will just have to face whatever is coming with my head held high.
I stand and open the door. The guard straightens. “Highness.”
The walk to my father’s study has never felt so long, and when we reach it the stony-faced guards open the door without a word. I step inside.
My father is behind his desk. Brennan stands to his right, arms folded across his chest. Beside the window, there’s a man I don’t recognize, clad in gray robes, with his hands clasped in front of him.
My heart leaps into my throat.
A mage.
“Please, sit down, my daughter.” My father’s voice is gentle. “We need to talk about what’s been done to you.”
“Done to me?” I stay standing, my hand on the back of the chair. “The only thing that’s been done to me is Brennan tying me up like a common criminal!”
My father exchanges looks with Brennan.
“Please sit down.” His voice remains soft. “Let us talk about this.”
I don’t. My father sighs.
“Brennan told me that you fought him when he tried to bring you home. Trying to escape alone on the road, Alleria? What were you thinking?” He leans forward. “That’s not like you. You know it’s not like you.”
I don’t answer.
“And Nella … She told us about how you were treated by that … that thing. How scared you were. And yet, later when one of them collected her to bring her to you, you were living with them, treating them like they are human.”
“Father, they are—”
“It’s all right.” He holds up a hand. “I understand. Whatever they did to you, whatever magic they’ve used to turn you into this … it’s not your fault.”
“They haven’t done anything to me!”
He nods slowly. “That’s what Nella said you’d say. She told me that you would defend them, and you believe you’re acting with free will.” He looks at the mage. “That’s how it works, isn’t it? Fae enchant humans to make them think their thoughts are their own.”
“Often, yes.” The mage steps forward. “If you’ll permit me, Princess. I can determine what’s been done to you, and begin the process of removing it.”
“There’s nothing to remove.” I take a step back.