Chapter 26 The Songbird #2
Marked bone? It must’ve been what Skadi mentioned about Hesh and Larsson being the ones who could cross the wards without trouble.
While Tavish dressed the wound, I stepped aside, finding Celine beside Gavyn and Sewell.
“Don’t do that again,” Celine whispered, locking her hands around my shoulders when I embraced her. “We stick together, remember? Can’t be doing that if you get yourself snatched.”
“I plan to never leave a room without a dozen guards, lest another liar tries to steal me away.”
Celine’s eyes glittered. “Trust me, the king will never let you out of his sight again.”
I wasn’t certain I’d mind.
“Glad you found your way off the isle, My Queen,” Gavyn said, his elbows propped like the smug lord I’d seen from afar before our world toppled.
“If I’d known I could force you away by merely peeling all the flesh off your bones, I certainly would’ve done so and avoided a lot of nasty threats from the king. ”
“I’m rather glad you didn’t.”
Gavyn blew out his lips. “It would’ve been a grand adventure.”
“Little fox,” Sewell shoved Gavyn—his son—aside and pressed a kiss to my head. “Strong as the sea.”
“It is good to see you, Lord Sewell,” I whispered against his chest.
Sewell lifted a finger to his lips and slunk back between his children.
“The royal city!” Tait, alive and stern, shouted down from the helm. For a breath, his gaze stayed with me, but as quickly as he looked, he turned back to the sea. Tension knotted over my heart. I needed to speak to him, but what to say, how to thank him, left my tongue wanting.
I leaned into Erik, holding his freshly bandaged waist. Spires of gold, cliffs and coves, the glitter of the pale shores of the royal city gleamed in the rising sun.
Erik pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead. We did not need to have a bond that spoke through our hearts—I knew what he was thinking, for I thought much the same.
We were home.
Merfolk guided the Ever Ship into port. Their orb eyes surfaced every few moments, scanning the laths for a peek at the king and his crew. Frightening and lovely, the merfolk captured the awe of my fellow royals.
Mira gasped when a woman with moss green hair and skin like a storm cloud beamed at her from the currents, flashing her jagged teeth and wailing her sorrowful voice.
Even my father seemed fascinated by their iridescent fins and cunning voices, urging the earth fae to join them for a swim.
“Don’t even think about it, Jonas,” Sander said, gripping his brother’s arm.
“She’s a bit pretty.” Jonas pointed down at a slender mermaid.
“They’ve no interest in your life once you’re beneath the tides,” Gavyn insisted, swinging a heavy canvas sack over the rails into some of the smaller skiffs taking supplies into the city. “They’re enamored by other folk but lose interest soon enough.”
“I’d see to it she wouldn’t lose interest.”
Gavyn chuckled. Strange, watching a bit of camaraderie between my lifelong friends and family, and my new people.
But for two.
Daj kept close to me, always a few paces away, but a clear distance was built between Erik and my father. They would give occasional nods to each other but didn’t speak.
I wanted to know everything—Erik’s journey to my homeland, how they returned, how they discovered the isle. I wanted to know my father’s thoughts about the few times I was certain he’d heard me addressed as queen.
More than anything, I wanted to slip away with my serpent. I wanted to touch him, hold him, tangle arms and legs with him, and for a moment, forget we’d ever been parted. There were conversations to be had. Larsson, Arion, and Fione still had some wretched power over Skadi and her people.
Larsson had been bruised, nothing more, but he would not stop his pursuits for the crown.
Now, we simply didn’t know how he would strike.
Another horn was followed by cheers from the crowds packed along the winding stone road. From the windows of red gabled rooftops, children waved banners of the Ever Ship, and women flailed their white linens, waving their men home.
“So,” Daj said, voice low. “This is the Ever.”
Erik took a step to one side, mutely offering us a moment alone, and pretended to busy himself with the unloading of packs and crates and crew.
Webs of cobbled roads wove around cottages and taverns.
Mighty stone archways marked each curve of the roads, and powerful waterfalls spilled over the rocky ledges.
The verdant hill which embraced the tiered levels of the palace brightened under the beams of sunlight, like the royal city was celebrating the return of its king.
“This is the royal city,” I said, slipping my arm through the bend of my father’s elbow. I let my head fall to his shoulder. “It’s . . . it’s home, Daj.”
He dropped his chin, eyes closed, for a breath. Then took hold of my hand on his arm and lifted my knuckles to his lips. “I know.”
“It does not mean I have not missed you all horribly,” I whispered, mortified by the fearful tremble in my voice. “It does not—nor could it—lessen how much I love—”
“Livia.” My father pulled me into his arms, holding me against his chest. “I know.”
A thousand unspoken words lived in such a simple statement—he knew what it was like to take on the burden of a kingdom. He knew what it was like to give your heart and soul to another.
He knew I was no longer only his daughter.
“Coaches are waiting, love.” Erik’s low timbre took me from my father’s arms.
With a touch of hesitation, the Ever King eyed the Night Folk king, then held out a hand for me.
On the outside, the moment was simple. To me, it was pivotal. A moment where I released my grip on my father, my people, and took hold of the man who’d come to own every facet of my soul.
Erik understood it and squeezed my palm in reassurance as we made our way to the plank.
Daj understood it and kept several paces behind me, joining Stieg and the others, like he’d accepted a new place where he could keep a wary eye on his girl, while letting her step into her own power.