7. The Mist Thief
Chapter 7
The Ever Queen strode past the guard and gave me a small smile. “Hello, Skadi. I hope you don’t mind, but it is customary in our lands for fellow royals to aid fellow royals. We thought we could help you dress.”
Queen Livia had deep blue eyes and her long, dark hair flowed in a loose braid over her shoulder. The gown she wore reminded me of the tides with vibrant layers of different shades of green and blue.
The door had started to close again, but was practically kicked open by two other fae women in silk gowns. One woman had rings pierced along her tapered ears like mine, the other wore a single spike in her only ear.
“If you think I’m not going to take this opportunity to meet her properly, you’re sorely mistaken. I’m Krasmira.” The taller fae leaned against the edge of the vanity table, a sort of smirk on her mouth. “Most folk call me Mira.”
I held her gaze, uncertain if her grin was meant to be friendly, or if she was plotting something more sinister. Mira was taller than the Ever Queen, with amber eyes like the sap on the trees in the wood. A bit of mahogany deepened the brown of her hair when the fading sunlight caught the braids.
“Mira is the heir of the Southern fae realms,” Livia offered. “She also grew up with Jonas.”
Mira’s grin widened. “You realize you’re getting an utter fiend for a husband.”
Panic throttled my throat. Gods, her smile was one of delight. So, my fears were confirmed. The fae folk would take pleasure from my suffering.
“Mir.” Livia frowned. “You’ve got her thinking Jo is some sort of brute.”
“Oh, gods. I didn’t mean he was a cruel fiend. Just a loveable sod who is the most cunning of tricksters. Many bouts of frustration in my childhood came at the hands of Jonas Eriksson.”
“Skadi.” Livia went on, shaking her head. “You’ve met Celine Tidecaller, yes?”
“We have crossed paths in your palace,” was all I said.
The sea fae woman with the spike in her ear flicked her fingers, but did not smile like the Ever Queen. “He’s not cruel, elven. You can stop looking like you’re about to get your throat slit.”
Livia closed her eyes. “Perhaps this was a bad idea.”
Mira waved her hands. “Allow us to start again. All we wanted was to know you a little better. Jonas is part of us, so that now includes you.”
“Is she still iced over?” Celine was horrid at whispering, but the way she leaned in to the Ever Queen, voice low and husky, she made an attempt to be sly.
Mira tilted her head, fiddling with the end of her long braid. “I heard your magic dims your emotions. True?”
I nodded and avoided their gazes. “It is worse if I use my affinity for cruel reasons.”
Mira nudged my shoulder. “You won’t be treated or used cruelly by Jonas. Not like that light elven sod.”
Part of me yearned to believe her, but she was fae, a royal. They all wanted this alliance to keep threats from the elven away from their lands.
“I wouldn’t lie,” Mira went on, as though reading my thoughts. “If Jonas was a bastard who took delight in harming the hearts of women, I assure you, I’d hide you away after I buried him with his own cock shoved down his throat.”
“Gods, Mir.” Livia laughed as though such talk was practically expected.
“Don’t let Livie fool you, she’d be there with me.”
“Whether you believe us or not,” Livia said, working on securing one of the ribbons on my underskirts, “you are vowing with one of the most vicious, protective, and loyal hearts in our lands.”
“Forgive me for believing otherwise,” I said. “I have heard folk call him a nightmare prince.”
Mira snorted. “Oh, that’s because of his mesmer magic. Not because he is a nightmare. Well, not always.”
“You recall the guide I gave you of the alver magics?” Livia looked at me in the mirror. “Jonas is an Anomali. Everyone in the royal household is, actually. His ability is fueled by creating the emotion of intense fear of an individual mind. What might frighten me, wouldn’t frighten you. His magic knows that.”
All gods.
“Sander, his twin, is similar,” Mira explained, wholly focused on securing a blue jade pin into my hair. “But he uses pleasant memories and twists them into something horrific. Together the twins can manipulate minds into a bit of maddening terror where folk no longer know what is real. They’re both a good tangle of their mother and father.”
“What do the king and queen do?”
“The alver queen steals memories.” Celine leaned forward, grinning like a wolf. “She can make folk forget how to breathe.”
“She’s quite lovely, though,” Livia said with a warning look at the sea fae.
“Uncle Kase—the king, I mean–uses fear,” Mira said. “It’s fascinating. Anything that is a fear of someone he can grant it. Think of it—most folk fear dying, right? So he can kill with it.”
I blanched. “Truly?”
Livia clicked her tongue, glaring at her fellow royal. “They do not use their abilities unless threatened, like all of us.”
“Right, of course. They’re lovely, Princess. A little broody and tricky at times, but lovely,” Mira said quickly.
Discomposed as I was, the conversation was becoming easier. “Elven have simple summoning affinities; they are powerful but normally peaceful. Ljosalfar summon light and fire through the smallest gleam or flame. Dokkalfar are known to summon healing. But I take. My affinity does not summon or give, it steals and destroys.”
There was a drawn pause for a breath, and I wished I had not spoken. I gave up too much, and I did not truly know anyone in this room.
Not really.
For a time we were quiet. The women painted my lips in a rosy shade, braided small strands of my hair, and smoothed the gown I was to don.
Mira nudged my shoulder, a signal to stand for the dress. “You’re a different sort of elven. Maybe that’s something you have in common with the prince and his house. They are all different.”
Strange, but there was a bit of comfort considering they might call me one of their Anomalies, only elven.
The three women set about telling me secrets of the prince—he enjoyed carving wood into little shapes, he preferred being out of doors, he had a silver tongue that charmed the surliest of folk.
“Jonas is the man who will laugh away his frustrations and fears instead of admitting to them,” Mira said. “My father does the same, and it’s aggravating.”
“I am certain even if the prince wished to confess unease, it would not be said to me.”
Livia frowned in the mirror, but said nothing, merely finished settling the silver chain around my braids.
“You have a lifetime to find out, I suppose.” Mira helped me fasten the back of my gown. “This is stunning, by the way. Are these crystals?”
She pointed at the bodice coated in glimmering gems along the bust, designed to appear like branches of a tree.
“They are called heart glass. Traditional stones used for Dokkalfar vows. It is said a man will see the joy in his bride’s heart on their vows.”
“Rather romantic.” Livia beamed at me, like she wanted me to feel some sort of gladness.
For others, perhaps. I asked that no heart glass be on my gown. Like my other requests, it was ignored, another slight to remind me my heart was cold and darkened by cruel magic. It was a subtle way for my people to show my new husband the truth of his bride.
My folk were brilliant at never allowing me to forget who I was.
When Livia tucked a woven band over the crown of my head, she lowered her voice. “Skadi, battles are behind us. I know this vow was brought for a purpose, but it does not need to be a wretched thing.”
“I was always destined for arranged vows, Queen. I hold no ire and no joy for this day. It merely is.”
“I admit, I did not see Jonas gaining the title of husband, at least not so soon.” Livia placed her hands on my shoulders. “But I have known him all my life, and he will never harm you.”
My jaw tightened. “I harmed his brother.”
“He does not do this because of Sander. This isn’t some grand scheme of revenge. He wishes to keep your folk and ours safe.”
“From me.”
Livia shook her head. “No. From Arion and any more feckless schemes he might make to overthrow fae and elven lands.”
I almost believed her.
“Beautiful things can come from arranged vows.” Mira pressed a hand to her heart and bowed at the waist. “Me, for example.”
I arched a brow. “Your folk?”
“Yes.” Without a word, Mira helped herself to a rouge lip stain in front of me and dabbed her own lips in the mirror. “My mother and father were arranged to stop wars, curses, and all manner of mayhem turns ago.”
Curious. “I suppose heirs are produced even without affection.”
“Oh, I assure you, my parents are affectionate. Ridiculously so. They’re beautifully devoted to each other. Love came, even with arranged vows.”
“Could be you, elven.” Celine didn’t look at me, her gaze was trained on a loose bead on her own gown.
Mira nodded. “Celine would know all about romance?—”
“Earth fae.” The sea fae snapped her head up. “Don’t speak it.”
“What? Speak of your new lover?” Mira wiggled her brow. “Why? All I want to know is every bleeding detail, is it so much to ask? What has it been like with such a burly man in your bed?”
Red flushed Celine’s dark skin, but she faced Livia. “Why do you bring her?”
The Ever Queen laughed. “Because Mira has ways to get folk talking.”
“I do. I am the Ever King’s favorite besides you, Liv.”
I almost grinned, almost wanted to join in the taunts. The Ever King had no care for much of anyone beyond his queen.
Celine flattened her palms on the vanity table, sneering at the fae princess like a challenge. “What would happen if I turned it on you, earth fae? You’ve looked more than once at Heartwalker.”
Mira heaved a sigh. “My greatest failure. Where I have befriended the wicked Ever King, alas, his cousin is as hardened as stone. I fear I may be forced to concede.”
I studied my fingers, a curl to my lips. “You could always draw a blade against him. Before you know it, you might be taking vows.”
The room hushed, and I bit the tip of my tongue until the heat of blood filled my mouth. Gods, why did I speak?
Then, they laughed. Even Celine.
“You might be onto something, Skadi.” Mira held up her hands as though displaying a thought in the air. “How to snare a husband—threaten to kill him.”
This was odd. Not . . . horrible, but odd.
And it ended too soon. A heavy knock came to the door with a deep, urgent voice of the guard, insisting it was time to find our places.
The vows were about to begin.