21. The Mist Thief
Chapter 21
Jonas kept his word. I saw little of the prince in the days after the Ljosalfar attack. The only sign he remained in the palace came from the sound of his door opening and closing, his steps on the stone staircase that took him to some mysterious place I dared not investigate.
My nights were haunted with dreams of me never reaching the great hall in time to stop Jonas from drinking the sweet venom leaves.
Each morning I woke drenched in sweat, gasping, with a damn near insatiable desire to pound on his door, all to ensure my husband was alive.
For his sake, it was better to stay away. Those I let inside my soul never made it out the same. There was something that twisted them into darker pieces of themselves.
And some never made it out alive.
Near the window, I stirred a tin of herbal tea aimlessly. My quill had paused on the parchment. I’d yet to hear from my grandfather about the attack, so I began a missive describing the event.
Whenever I attempted to write how close the prince and his folk came to ingesting the sweet venom, the ink blotted and I couldn’t go on. And when the sun rose today, I admitted a truth I’d dared not face—I missed the prince.
I rather enjoyed the heat he brought to my blood, a reminder I hadn’t forgotten how to feel. I missed his snide looks, his cunning grin. I even missed his overuse of the name Fire.
My self-imposed exile was dull and loathsome. To make it all worse, I’d yet to recover my trunks of books and had given them up for misplaced or left behind on Natthaven.
The three tales I’d packed in my personal satchel had long since been read, and there was little else for me to do but write letters.
Now, with Jonas plaguing my mind, I could not even do that.
My forehead fell to the edge of the table. I was a damn fool.
“Lady Skadinia.” Dorsan entered without a knock. “You have a visitor.”
I snapped my head off the desk, swatting at the parchment sticking to my skin, and spun in my chair.
A woman in a woolen dress and curled hair tied behind her head followed him into the room. She faced Dorsan and returned a wobbly bow. “Thanks, my good man.”
Dorsan sniffed, his sharp features furrowed. Alver folk befuddled him as much as me.
Once he was gone, the woman faced me, a crooked grin on her full lips. “Remember me?”
I tilted my head. She looked familiar. “Lady Frigg.”
“Lady?” She made a sound like a gag. “I’m no lady. Frigg will do just fine. I’ve come at the order of the queen. She wants you out of the palace.”
My throat tightened.
“Oh, gods.” Frigg held up her hands. “Not like that. I just mean, Mal is fully aware you’re rotting away in here, and she asked me to take you around to get some air, maybe some sunlight. Or do you shadow folk not like the sun?”
“The queen asked of me?”
“Yes?” Frigg spoke the word like she wasn’t certain if she should respond. “Think she’s starting to get a little worried about you. So, can you tolerate the light?”
“Uh, we like sunlight fine,” I said. “Dokkalfar summon healing from blood or foliage, but we are named shadow elven because most of our plants and herbs bloom in the moonlight. It is when summoning is strongest.”
“Huh. Interesting. Sander mentioned something of the sort earlier.”
“The prince is learning about Dokkalfar?”
“Trust me, Princess, he’s been fascinated by elven culture since the battle.”
I was glad Prince Sander did not harbor resentment, but I could not cease with the hope that his brother might do the same and ignore my demands, see through the lies, and barge into my room. Possibly put his hands on my skin again.
Frigg scratched her head. She truly was lovely. Without her straw hat, her light hair was full and wavy and her features were fair save for a few freckles on her nose.
She swung her hands by her sides. “The queen asked me since, if you recall, my maj was seeing to it you had a gown. It’s ready, so Malin figured it might be a good opportunity for you to see a bit more of Klockglas.”
An unmistakable thrill rushed in my blood.
Frigg must’ve seen the shift in my features for her grin widened. “I swear, there’ve been no sightings of murderous elven.”
I swallowed. “How are those littles?”
“With their aunt in Furen. Fed, clothed, and a little heartbroken they can’t be with their mother and father. But they are resilient. No matter what fate rests in the hands of the wicked Norns for Nettie and Teo, the littles will be well looked after.”
She spoke in a way to ease my guilt. In my mind, I knew I could not have foreseen such an attack, but I still held a cruel ache of guilt over Pavva and his sisters.
I reached into a wooden box near the side of my bed and removed three chains. “Do you suppose someone could help me post these? I gave them some elven silver and promised to send them chains so they could wear them.”
Frigg placed the chains into a small pouch on her thin belt. “I’ll see it done. Shall we go?”
There was merit to learning the land, and it was gods-awful dull in this room.
“Yes.” I forced a smile and took hold of a thin, diaphanous cloak from the wardrobe, wrapping it around my shoulders. “I am beginning to rot.”
“Does he just follow you around?”
I bit down a laugh and looked over my shoulder. At the end of the market road, Dorsan still strolled along, a satin wrapped gown draped over his arms, casting dubious looks at the merchant stands.
Frigg’s mother had to have a bit of magic. The gown was stunning. Simple enough to be worn on any occasion, but when the light struck it seemed made of shattered stars. Fit for a royal ball.
Dorsan paused when one of the merchants stopped to gawk at him, eyeing his weapon belt and the gown in hand, like my guard might have a few more hidden valuables tucked out of sight.
“It is his duty to look after me,” I said.
“Well, his duty is annoying.”
My smile widened as I tipped my head and bit into the end of a cream roll. The stand had been the first stop on the market path, and Frigg insisted it was a coveted sweet of the region.
We ended up going back for three more when the berry filling made me nearly sob with delight. I licked my thumb and tucked the parchment wrapping into the satin coin purse on my belt.
The Klockglas market was boisterous and filled with scents of leather, smoke, and fish. Vendors bartered from windows of their crooked shops, or from behind rolling carts with canvas tops.
Knives adorned everyone, even the littles ran about armed and wild.
I tried to guess who was alver and mortal—their ears were the same—but it was impossible.
There were fae here, mostly sea fae with their golden skin, bright eyes, and fluttery voices. Since sea fae were the only ones capable of ferrying people from the earth realms to the Ever Kingdom, many had taken up residences throughout the different earth fae realms.
Frigg tore off down a cobbled path leading deeper into the township.
Homes were made of small cottages or longhouses. Most had goats or hogs behind rickety fences. Some were larger estates with small gardens.
I paused at a totem made of black granite. A remembrance totem. Names were etched into the stone and at the bottom were crossed blades with the saying of the Kryv: Fight to the end.
“How do these lands seem . . . so loyal when it is made of self-proclaimed crooks?”
Frigg’s face pinched like she was confused. “Because we are willing to reach into our depravity to protect our own. We will place goodness aside and be the worst sort of folk should our people be threatened.”
It was frightening and beautiful all at once.
“Come on.” Frigg linked her arm with mine again. “We ought to be returning before dark. Dockers and such get rowdy at taverns, and br?n has a way of making folk forget their better qualities.”
The road cut down the back side of the slope, lined in more trees that weren’t seen from the shore. Along the edges of the path, thick trunks twisted and tangled together like a ballroom of giants. Limbs with thick oak leaves crafted a canopy overhead that only let in a few beams of pale sunlight.
The air was cooler and fresher, like damp soil and moss rather than the heavy salted winds near the shore.
Frigg chatted about life in Klockglas, how most folk were good and honorable unless they were crossed, then they would plot against you to get even. “The king and queen view the consequences of disputes a little differently than other kingdoms.”
“Different how?”
“Well, if someone finds their goat missing, only to turn up at another house, they can cry thief and bring a fine or punishment upon their neighbor. Or it can be handled another way.”
“Like what?”
A dark gleam flashed in Frigg’s eyes. “The one who was robbed can craft a heist against the first thief. Bring evidence you were wronged, and you are free to restore your belongings with interest.”
“Meaning?”
“The heist better make off with not only the goat that was stolen, but some penge coin or a few hens. No killing is allowed, no blood is to be drawn. Stealth is the key. If successful, the royal house will give the second thief a banner stating ownership of the entire haul.”
It seemed like madness. “What’s to stop the first thief from retaliating?”
“The banner.” Frigg paused at a small, wooden gate that led to the back paths toward the Black Palace. “If the first thief chooses to retaliate they do so knowing the Kryv and the Black Palace will make their own moves against them. No one wants to go against the royal house.”
“How did they come up with such laws?”
“I think the way the king and queen see it is if you are foolish enough to thieve and get caught, you earn what’s coming to you. And if you’re even more foolish to thieve, get caught, then have your haul and more taken in return, they find you embarrassing and stand against you.”
“And does it work?”
Frigg nodded, balancing on a fallen log on the side of the path as she walked. “There is actually very little crime here. Squabbles, sure. You heard my own father do the same.”
“Well, your father doesn’t seem the type who’d get caught.”
Frigg’s palm pressed to her heart. “Good hells, that was awfully nice of you to say.”
Her eyes burned in sincerity, as though I’d stumped her with such utter praise she didn’t know what to make of it.
What a strange place this was. Schemes were dealt with greater schemes, and honor was brought to house names by who pulled off the cleverest moves.
I kept close to her pace until we rounded a bend, and my blood turned to ice. Even Frigg let out a gasp of surprise.
On foot, four men approached from some of the lower townships that speckled the hillside of the palace. Silver-eyed Raum stood next to a man with wavy red hair who held the hand of another man with a scar through his brow.
I didn’t pay them much mind; I was too lost on the sharp, shadowed stare of the form in the middle.
The alver king stopped where the paths converged, practically drinking me in with his dark gaze.
“Ah, hello.” Raum waved. “Didn’t see you, which never happens. I see everything.”
“Profetik,” Frigg whispered, as if sensing my confusion. “Heightened senses.”
Gods, could he really see anything? Through clothing? I folded my arms over my chest, and Raum laughed, muttering something to the king I couldn’t make out.
The king took a step forward, shifting a few rolls of parchment between his hands. He stood nearly two heads taller than me, black coated him from shoulder to toe, and his dark chestnut hair was kept tied at the sides, but a little tousled—like his sons’.
What was I to say? Should I say anything? Was I to bow? Did I hold out a hand?
All my body managed to do was tremble like a damn hummingbird when he stopped three paces away.
Say something. Anything would be better than this . . . silence.
Frigg took a step closer to my side. “Maj made her a gown.”
The king glanced at the woman, his expression unchanged. “Good.” His voice was a rasp, deep and dark. It faded and he returned again to his scrutiny of me. Surely he must expect me to speak.
“We’ve all been rather keen to thank you for stopping us from dying by tea. It would’ve been a horribly embarrassing way to greet the gods after all the bloodier things we’ve done,” said Raum.
“No thanks needed.” Gods, my voice trembled. “Forgive me for being distant, I . . . I haven’t been feeling well.”
Raum laughed and nudged the king’s arm. “More like she’s avoiding Jonas.”
Cold damp coated my palms with a flush of embarrassment. No, no, gods, no.
My affinity often presented when I was discomposed, like it wanted to tear me away into the mists to hide me. To show it here, in front of the king, might be seen as a threat.
I clutched my skirt, willing the frigid magic to fade. “I apologize for being so absent.”
The king took another step toward me, glancing at my palms. Did he see the darkness? Was he threatened?
When he lifted his chin again, his expression was softer. “You’ve my thanks for your quick thinking. Saved my family.”
I froze. “Of course, sire”
“Has he mistreated you?”
“Pardon?”
“My son. Has he mistreated you?”
“No, Highness.”
The king grimaced for a breath, then took a step away. “Good.”
Without another word, he continued down the path, toward the main township.
“Isak.” The redhead paused by my side, a hand to his chest. “Good t-t-to finally meet you.” His stammer was heavy, but he spoke with confidence and gestured at the other man. “Fiske. My husband.”
Fiske nodded a greeting.
I thought I might’ve smiled, but in truth I still reeled from the strange interaction with the alver king.
Once Fiske and Isak followed the king, Raum leaned in, a playful glint in his pale eyes. “Steady on, Princess. I think your fears are showing.”
With a wink, he followed the others.
Frigg snickered and threaded her arm through mine again. “Breathe. You survived a Kase stare.”
“I thought he was looking straight through me.”
“Oh, in a way, he was. Don’t worry, you’ve won over the king.”
I pressed my palms to my cheeks, hoping to cool the flush in my skin. “That was me winning him over?”
“No, that was done when you snatched poison out of their hands. Right then, he was proving it. He gave you a look of concern, inquired on your happiness with Jonas. All signs Kase cares. The way he looked at you though, something in your fears must’ve spoken to him.”
“My fears?” Thoughts spun wildly. What fears was I holding? Fear of the king, of alvers, of my own affinity. My heart dropped. I’d thought of the prince and the way I feared drawing close to him. “He can truly read them?”
“Feels them, tastes them, I don’t really know. He can use our fears against us, or in your case, likely read your heart a bit. We keep our true fears in our hearts, after all.”
Good hells.
“Come on. Don’t worry so much about folk despising you here. We don’t.” Frigg tugged on my arm, urging me toward the back courtyard of the palace.
Voices from the bustle inside the palace walls filtered down the path. The day was surprising. A day where no one cast me wary glances, where I laughed with another woman almost like we might be friends, and through it all I forgot to be on my guard.
I forgot to hide away and keep the distance I demanded of my prince.
“You ever going to talk to Jonas again?”
I coughed against a rough swallow and met Frigg’s gaze. “Pardon?”
She sighed and paused inside the gates. “We know you fools argued before the attack, but I thought with you being a damn warrior maiden and saving his ass, you lot might’ve cleared the air, but you’re not talking. I can’t figure it out. He’s like my annoying younger brother, but Skadi, he is one of the best men I know.”
“Why do you say this?”
“Because you have a look on your face that I noticed the first time you stepped foot on Klockglas. It’s how you looked at him, and I’d take a guess you’re thinking of him now.”
My shoulders slumped in defeat. “Before I was tossed into alver clans, I was quite skilled at hiding my expressions.”
She chuckled. “We have ways to pull out the truth here, I suppose.”
“I told the prince it was better if we kept a distance and didn’t make this more than duty.”
“Gods, that sounds miserable.”
I winced. There was a festering absence I noticed when the prince was not close, and I did not understand how—through all my attempts to shield against him—the man still managed to sink his claws into me from the first kiss.
“He is merely honoring my request.”
“Well change your request.” Frigg’s brows flicked twice. “He’s been sulking as much as you, so I’d say Jonas would be more than willing to shave some of that distance away.”
What if this doesn’t need to be nothing? The prince had asked the question before the attack, and I rejected it. No one looked deeper than the affinity in my veins, but what if Jonas meant what he said?
Risk was there. To trust another with a piece of my heart was a chance I never wanted to take. Not again.
With a sigh, I made my way toward the gardens. “You might be right, I?—”
My voice cut off. In front of the door that would take me to the staircase of our wing, my nightmare prince stood with his back to me.
He wasn’t alone.
Head lowered, I could just make out a woman with her hands on his chest, her body close. Jonas shifted, and I noted the way her fingers fell to his belt without shame.
Gods. I asked for distance, but I did not anticipate the man flaunting his lovers for all to see.
The ache in my heart took me from behind, sharper than I imagined, and hot like a molten spear. I wanted to fade, to forget, to hide in the coldness of apathy. My affinity would shield me for a time, but the deepest indifference required cruel acts.
But there were other ways.
I spun on Frigg before she reached the top. “Actually, I have one more request, if you’re willing.”
She canted her head. “What’s that?”
“You mentioned these taverns. I hear all the time of alver revelry. Care to join me?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Princess.” Frigg glanced over her shoulder. “It might be best to do so with your hus?—”
“Suit yourself.” I drifted around her side. “I’ll have Dorsan take me. Thank you for today, it was wonderful.”
“Now wait a damn moment.” She took hold of my arm again. “If you’re determined to try br?n and not wait for the prince, I’ll be required to go with you. It’s a fool’s choice to toss back that ale without a Klockglas native looking out for you. And as a woman who enjoys a fair amount of revelry, I should tell you, I think this is a reckless idea.”