Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Aurelia
The guest suite was carved into the side of a coral bluff—rounded walls, a window like an eyeless lid that looked out over the glowing underwater streets.
I sat on the edge of the bed and made a list in my head of what we needed and how little time we had to get it: passage upriver, a way into the camp, a way out again with Lesha alive.
Every minute we spent here was another minute she remained in Heliconia’s hands.
I could feel the clock ticking behind my ribs.
A knock sounded—four notes, rhythmic and light. Not a guard’s rap. I stood and palmed a conch shell displayed on the dressing table.
“Come,” I said.
The door opened without a sound.
Princess Naliadne stepped in.
Her dark blue hair rippled like water where it fell over one shoulder and hung to her waist. Iridescent scales glittered faintly along her temple and the line of her collarbones when she moved, catching the light the way fish did before they darted away.
Her eyes were sea-deep and knowing. When she smiled, it was with small, sharp teeth she didn’t bother to hide behind her full lips.
Three males trailed her, perfect and varied in a way that said she’d chosen them carefully: one tall and ash-blond with shoulders built for throwing spears; one with copper skin and a mouth made for trouble; the third dark-eyed and quiet, the kind who noticed every exit in a room. He reminded me of Rydian somehow.
They fanned out without being told—one at the door, one at the window, one setting a lacquered trunk on the low bench at the foot of the bed.
“Nali,” I said, genuine warmth filling my voice as she strode toward me.
Her smile lit the room. “Aurelia,” she said. Her voice was sultry and melodic—made for singing an unsuspecting fool closer to the water’s edge. “It’s been too long.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “It’s been at least a week,” I said, taking her offered hands in mine and letting her press an air-kiss along my cheek.
She spotted me setting the shell aside and gave me a knowing look.
“Beneath, we find that time stretches differently,” she said. “But need does not.” Her gaze flicked over my travel-worn clothes. “And you, I think, have need. Specifically for something to wear to dinner.”
“Among other things.” I looked at the trunk. “Is that a bribe or a gift?”
“Both? Though, not from my father.” She nodded to the dark-haired male, who flipped the clasps and opened the lid. Inside lay silk and river-linen, pearl hooks, bands of nacre, colors like deep night and bright reef and the inside of a conch shell.
“Nali,” I breathed. “It’s beautiful.”
“You will be expected to dress for court,” she said. “We take beauty seriously here. I took the liberty of sending suitable options to your friends.”
I reached in and touched the edge of a gown the green of riverweed at dusk. The fabric slid between my fingers like silk. I tried not to like it, but gods, it was lovely.
“That color is perfect for you,” Nali said. “Oh, and I saved the best for last.”
Her guard lifted a second, smaller trunk onto the table and snapped it open: jewelry—thin chains, delicate hairpins, a set of pearl-studded combs shaped like waves.
“I think it’s only fair that I ask what you want in return,” I said. “Beyond making sure we don’t embarrass you at dinner.”
Nali crossed the room, letting her fingers trail along the carved coral as she went. She took up the window’s view, all glowing lights and flitting mer-tails.
“My father sees hospitality as a tool,” she said.
“This is a test,” I offered, quoting Rydian.
She turned back to me, nodding. “A two-part test, I think. First, he seeks to gauge your mettle.”
“I’ve fought more enemies than he has in the last seven years,” I said.
“And he fought in the Great War.”
I blinked. “Impossible. Fae don’t live that long anymore.”
“Naiad do.” She flicked a glance at me, adding, “Not many of us. But some. My father remembers what it was like, the bloodshed, the loss. He does not march into that again lightly.”
“And the second test?” I asked.
“He wants to see if you respect our values.” She bit her lip before adding, “What he does not value are shadow fae.”
I sighed. “I see your message is your father’s even if the clothes are not.”
“They are all my doing, I swear it. But you should know he will not ally with you while you stand with him,” she said, her voice becoming earnest, her eyes pleading. “Send the shadow prince away.”
“I’ve given my answer, and it won’t change,” I told her as gently as I could.
“You must be very sure about him,” she said, studying me.
“I am.” I met her gaze. “He’s not like Callan.”
Her expression shifted—curious, then faintly amused. “No,” she said. “No, he’s not.” The tip of her tongue touched the back of her teeth. “Callan was a polished blade. Your shadow prince is a knife you sharpen yourself.”
She pinned me with a look that seemed to see right through to my soul. “I imagine you’ve come away with a few cuts from that knife yourself, haven’t you?” she murmured.
I looked away, refusing to let her see the truth of it. “Rydian has saved my life countless times. I cannot—will not—turn my back on a friend like that. Besides, he is no longer a prince. Not since Callan banished him.”
“I don’t speak of his Autumn blood,” Nali said, gentle but pointed.
I didn’t move. Didn’t blink. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Naliadne’s smile turned sympathetic the way a predator looks “sorry” for a smaller animal that hasn’t recognized the danger.
“You do,” she said softly. “You’re not a fool.
He is not some soldier without a court, Aurelia.
Honor runs in his bones just as surely as it runs through a crown. He is an heir, same as you.”
My heart slammed against my ribs. I’d suspected it but told myself it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. Not just because of, well, logistics—how had Duron allowed him to live if that were true—but because he wouldn’t keep that from me… would he?
I lifted my chin. “And if I sent him away, would your father give me what I asked for?”
“Perhaps,” she said.
I studied her, seeing more truth brimming in her enigmatic eyes. My shoulders slumped. “You don’t believe he’ll agree no matter what I do.”
“I didn’t say that.” A delicate shrug, but not careless. “My father does not move for those who cannot move themselves.”
“Then why ask me to cut off my own arm for nothing?”
“Because he will demand it,” she said simply. “And because it’s in your best interest to not refuse him in front of our entire court.” She paused. “Our people are… fond of games at another’s expense.”
“What kind of games, exactly?”
“They like a drama. A prince who swore himself to Summer’s flame before she sent him away to please our king? It sings.” Her gaze softened the smallest amount. “But singing doesn’t save your friend. And I think you came for her more than for songs.”
“Lesha,” I said because speaking her name out loud helped keep me pointed in the right direction. “She is being held prisoner by Heliconia.”
Nali nodded gravely. “We know where she is.”
I stepped closer without meaning to, desperation making my voice rough. “How do you know?”
“Just because we have not pledged our swords to this war does not mean we have buried our heads in the sea,” she said.
“The river people know everything that happens in their waters and on their banks. Your friend is being held at a camp tucked into the Concordian side of the river, just above the north fork, in the shadow of Nygard.”
Nygard Peak was the tallest point in the Concordian Mountains. It sat on the bank of the Osphanis far to the north, the center point that divided the southern regions of Autumn and the Broadlands.
“Is there a way in? From the river, I mean.”
She inclined her head. “There is a sluice there. Our currents touch it.”
“How close?”
“Close enough to get in,” she said. “Not close enough to get out again. I’ve seen what Heliconia has bred there.”
“Obsidians.”
“Yes, and other creatures far worse than those. But it won’t matter. You’d never get that far without my father’s blessing for passage. Nor would your fae lungs survive it without his help.”
My shoulders fell.
She was right; we’d need naiad magic for that. And without Patamoi’s blessing, we had nothing.
“Thank you,” I told her quietly. “For giving me this information, for the clothes, for your friendship. Especially after everything that happened in Grey Oak. The danger I ended up putting you in. I am in your debt for all you’re doing for me and my friends.”
“It is what friends do.” She stepped closer, enough that the scales along her throat caught the light like a net. “Be careful, Aurelia. The naiad play games. Our smiles hide our teeth.” Her voice softened at the edges. “And our teeth are very sharp.”
I shuddered.
But she was smiling again, the foreboding gone from her otherworldly eyes. She nodded at the dress again. The green one. Of course.
Her guard had already untied the laces and unhooked the shoulder fastens. “I had it cut to your measurements.”
“My measurements,” I repeated, arching a brow. “From our first meeting in Grey Oak?”
“From when you walked past one of our mirrors on the way in,” she said, unabashed as she smiled sensually at her guards. “We like to keep track of our favorites, don’t we, darling?”
I pretended that didn’t make my cheeks flush with heat and went behind the screen to change.
The dress slid on like water. It left my shoulders bare and fell straight to the floor, heavier than it looked, with slits I could move in and seams that didn’t stretch when I reached for an imaginary blade.
If only I had one to reach for.
When I stepped out, Naliadne’s smile turned brilliant. “Yes,” she said, satisfied. “If my father refuses you, it will not be because you were dressed like a beggar.”
“That’s almost a compliment.”
“How’s this for a compliment: You look more radiant now than you did for a single second on the Autumn prince’s arm.”