12. The Mist Thief
Chapter 12
From the black helm, Celine’s nobleman brother shouted commands for his crew to aid the alver passengers on their land.
Sea fae could dive the ships through a watery barrier to earth fae realms. It was the reason Arion attacked the sea realms first, the hope being that by conquering the Ever Kingdom, it would open the way to the other fae and alver lands.
I looked back at the dark strip of a current that marked the barrier. Once it had been violent and crushing, filled with a spell to divide the fae folk. As a show of good faith, my affinity had stolen the maelstrom away, leaving gentle seas, smooth enough even mortals could journey between earth and sea fae realms.
Gentle as it was, it still felt as though worlds now stood between me and Natthaven.
Gavyn Seeker nodded a curt greeting my way once he returned his grip to the helm.
Tall, with rich brown skin, dark hair and eyes, the man was a lord over one of the noble houses in the Ever Kingdom and spent more time in his own territory. I did not know him as well as others.
Unfamiliar shores came into view through soupy mists. My insides fluttered against my heart. What would I find in my new lands? I no longer knew what to anticipate. Already, these vows were not going according to plan. Where I imagined indifference, I could not stop thinking of the actions of my damn husband.
Even as drunken as Jonas was in the hall, there was a deliciously sincere threat in his voice when he asked for a name to slaughter.
Then with his sharp words toward Cian . . .
I curled my fingers back into fists. No one had stood for me in such a way.
Jonas, without a pause, pulled me behind him and showed his own darkness. Like mine was welcome, even . . . admired. My head was spinning in the oddities of the damn man. The only reason we were vowed was fear of my affinity.
Why would he defend it, encourage it, welcome it?
The ship shuddered when Gavyn dropped his anchor, knocking me against the rail.
“Gods, Gavyn. Were you trying to toss us overboard?” Jonas’s shout reached the upper deck, as though he knew his features consumed my thoughts.
“Take your complaints elsewhere, Prince,” the sea fae returned. “I am not a passenger ship. In fact, I am too noble blooded for this. It’s insulting.”
“You’re a snob.”
Gavyn laughed. “I am that too.”
Air was heavy and wet with a coming storm. Each breeze carried salt and smoke and damp wood from the dark edges of a shoreline.
The Eastern shores of the earth realms were not mountainous but for a few foggy peaks in the distance. In the haze of the sea spray, outlines of townships revealed most of the trade had to be placed directly on the sea front.
Alver lands were made of longhouses and tenements on the edges of narrow, serpentine roads that disappeared into the mists.
Stomach in knots, I made my way to the stairs leading to the main deck.
“Best of luck, Princess.” Gavyn leaned onto his forearms between the handles of his helm. “Don’t kill each other. We’re tired of fighting.”
Before I could respond, one of his crewmen lifted me onto the gangplank leading to a wide dock below.
Crooked shops with slanted rooftops were made of three to four levels. Tenements lined the roads with green and orange moss spotted laths. Some roads were cobbled, others were made of mud and clay, but even this early in the morning, all were stuffed with hawkers and traders.
“Rather different than Natthaven, Lady Skadinia.” Dorsan, one hand on the dark pommel of his elven sword, took in the port of the land with a wrinkle to his nose.
“It is.” One corner of my mouth curved. “Perhaps different will be interesting.”
Unflappable most days, Dorsan’s grimace deepened. “It does not seem altogether . . . tidy.”
Inner roads on Natthaven were made from polished stones and homes were pleasantly whimsical. Forests were lush with meadows of silken blossoms and the Night Market was rife in sweets and sugared scents, not this new air of brine and smoke.
Alver lands seemed to keep a chaotic sort of order. Dark and mysterious, the kingdom did not gleam with pleasant greetings. No. Alver lands came with jagged edges and sharp teeth.
Laughter and taunts rolled over the dock. I drew in a sharp breath when the silver eyed guard shoved the king—the damn king—in the shoulder, mocking like he might toss Jonas’s father into the water.
In Natthaven, such a thing would be cause for the rack.
Here, the king merely muttered something that had the silver-eyed man laughing, the sort where his head fell back with utter glee.
“How was the journey for you, Princess?”
A familiar face approached. Not the prince, but his brother. The one who nearly met the gods by my blade.
I froze.
The second prince smirked. “Ah. I get it. I’m all healed up, swear it. I’m not going to toss you into the sea.”
“Sander is annoyingly logical.” A deep, throaty whisper blew against my ear. Jonas drew his face alongside my cheek. One tilt to my head and my lips might brush his. “My brother let bygones be bygones the next morning, Fire.”
Fire. I forced a scowl at the ridiculous name, hoping he would not catch the flush in my cheeks.
“It was pleasant enough,” was the only answer I could give.
“Good. Welcome to the royal city of Klockglas. Thoughts?” The gleam in Jonas’s eyes was filled with true pride as he took in his homeland.
Until he looked at me. Buried beneath his arrogance and delight was something uncertain. As though he might truly care for my approval. Like he wanted me to see a home as much as him.
To buoy up my new husband wasn’t an expectation. I could tell him his lands were strange and uninviting, but a cinch tightened in my chest, cracking the shield against this land, this man.
“It’s beautifully mysterious.”
Jonas’s grin widened. “You can’t see from here, but there are groves and forests and old ruins not more than a few lengths away. Then other trade markets in other townships, of course. Oh, and the hunt arena hosts a days’ long festival at the end of the frosts. I think you’d find it exciting.”
I took a step closer to his side. “Perhaps someone could show me about.”
“I will.” Jonas readjusted the pack on his shoulder, holding out a hand for me to take. “There are better ways to move about Klockglas, you see. I’d hate for you to be shown wrong.”
For a heartbeat, I hesitated, then slipped my palm into his. Unbidden, my top teeth dug into my bottom lip.
His delight was contagious. The prince did not see the crooked stoops or the unsteady structures. He merely saw home.
My new home.