28. The Mist Thief
Chapter 28
There was a shift after the mesmer fever. As though a new sort of trust had formed between me and my nightmare prince.
I joined the alvers at meals, interacting with the guilds, learning more of their customs and histories. Jonas spent most mornings with Von and Sander working in upper corridors. A rope was kept over the stairwells as a clear sign only the trio was welcome.
Someday, perhaps, he’d tell me what went on up there, instead of kissing me until I forgot to care.
His kiss became a part of my dreams. His touch a craving. More than trust, the fevers and our intimate bath, pulled back pieces of my new husband I didn’t want to see before. The man knew how to threaten and frighten, he knew how to kill well enough, but I was beginning to see the heart his fellow royals and friends kept insisting was inside.
Jonas was gentle with the staff, well-loved by the household of the palace.
He treated his mother with the highest esteem, always seeing to it she was seated before him and speaking with her with levity but respect.
The prince did the same for brisk Ylva, for women and men in the township or dockyards. He cared for his people, even those he did not know well.
But by the hells, the man knew how to irritate.
I thought he took a bit of pleasure in trying to flush my face in annoyance. Last night, I’d nearly tossed him into my affinity when he tried to spoil the ending of yet another book.
Sander saved the tale, and practically tackled his brother for the sheer audacity of it, then stood watch by my door until I sent the signal I’d finished the story.
Jonas rejoined me on my side of the bedchamber, begging for my forgiveness. His consuming mouth, the taste of his tongue against mine, the touch of his wicked hands teasing my body, earned him the invitation to stay at my side.
He held me close, stroking my hair, merely listening while I repeated how the tale impacted me even though he already knew the ending.
I studied my features in the mirror of the vanity. My fingertips touched my lips, still swollen from when he’d kissed me after the morning meal before setting off to his mysterious room in the upper levels.
In the past, my heart led me astray. Most of my people thought me to be cold and unfeeling. There was a bit of truth to it, for I’d learned soon enough it was better to freeze the heart than feel the agony of it breaking.
Unbidden, my nightmare prince was claiming the heart I vowed never to give, and I thought he might be giving his.
Dorsan entered my chamber, a piece of parchment in his hand. “Forgive the interruption, My Lady. You’ve received a missive from Natthaven.”
My stomach dipped. Since the Ljosalfar rogue tried to slaughter Jonas and his household, correspondence was typically kept between king and king. Or so I was told. My grandfather had not offered any word to me on Gerard or Arion.
I made quick work of schooling my curiosity and held out my hand. “Thank you, Dorsan.” A quick scan of the missive gave up the author. “Oh, it’s from Cara.”
Stern as my lady had been, Cara was a constant in my life, and there were days I missed her haughty words and huffs when folk did not live up to her opinions of propriety.
Lady Skadinia?—
I write to you with some trepidation. This inquiry borders on indecent, and I beg your forgiveness, but I do hope you’ll soothe this woman’s mind.
His Highness, King Gerard, and the Crown Prince Arion, were present in the palace these last days. I was troubled to learn of the attack from the rogue Ljosalfar, but am relieved to hear of your safety.
It is this topic which brings this letter. Although, the Ljosalfar appeared regretful for the attack, their belief is that your safety would be better suited with your own folk. Your new vow was enough of a concern, the disgraced prince approached me to hear of your wellbeing. He was quite remorseful for his part in pushing you toward this alliance. He insisted he intended to prove his contrite heart in the hopes you might choose him again before the turn is finished, per the alliance condition.
I am not prone to palace gossip, but I had to ask. It was confirmed this alliance can be returned to the Ljosalfar should you be dissatisfied with your new husband within the first turn.
Due to this, I would urge you to respond and tell me if you find a degree of peace in alver lands. I am hopeful you do, for my heart remains soured toward the Crown Prince at this time. Do not think little of me for speaking so plainly.
I will watch for your reply, and do hope the feral prince is doing what he should to keep you content. I have no doubt he would not want to lose the prestige of this alliance either.
Your lady,
Cara
Return to a betrothal with Arion? I knew if I had not agreed to the alliance with Jonas, my only choice would be to secure the legacy of the unification of the two elven clans with Arion.
But I was vowed now; my choice was made.
“Dorsan, may I ask you something?”
“Of course, My Lady.”
I hesitated. “Do you know anything about a condition of the alliance that states I might return to an agreement with the Ljosalfar prince?”
Dorsan clasped his hands behind his back. “I believe it is a standard condition to allow you a voice in your household. Should you be discontented with your new vow within the first turn, as I understand, you may choose to realign the two clans of elven. Either legacy is satisfactory for the king.”
Breath tightened in my throat. “So, if Jonas is not pleasing, it will be left to me to rescind the vow?”
“I believe so.”
Skin heated under my collar. “No doubt, the alver prince would want to do all he could to keep me content.”
Dorsan’s mouth tightened. “I imagine the prince would.”
“Thank you, Dorsan.” I flashed him a bright smile to hide the shock of pain in my heart. “I think I’ll go to the gardens. If you don’t mind, I would like to spend the afternoon alone.”
The guard frowned, but after a long pause, dipped his chin and abandoned the room.
I clutched my fist around the missive and for the first time since I took vows felt the first frost of my affinity numb a bit of my heart.
I desired to be anywhere but here.
Gods, was I still so bleeding desperate for my heart to be cherished that I’d been duped by another man?
Tears burned behind my eyes. I would not live a ruse, but I would not return to Arion.
Jonas, even if his motivations were to keep me blissfully content, was kinder than the Ljosalfar prince. My observations of him and his people were fair, light, and laden in mutual respect.
Maybe we would not develop a love match—not like I’d hoped—but I would strive to keep similar respect between us. Only after I soothed my cracking heart and gathered my thoughts on how to speak to him about what I knew.
Reckless. Stupid.
My bruised heart had fit the prince inside so well; he filled the spaces that were left in pain from old words and actions. I’d let him in, let him touch me, hold me. We burned through a fever together, laughed, and teased.
But he’d done it to keep his new wife appeased and an alliance strong.
Perhaps, I could settle for friendship. I could not so easily dismiss how much I’d come to care for the prince, and if it was not as lovers, I could not deny the desire to still find a place in his life.
Still, the tears came. I hurriedly entered the stables on the other end of the gardens and started to prepare a bridle on the head of a palace mare.
“Skadi?” From one of the stalls a face too similar to my nightmare prince peered out.
“Prince.” I dipped my chin when Sander approached, a thin ledger tucked under his arm.
“What’s the matter?” Sander leaned a shoulder against one of the stall posts, studying me.
I forced a grin. “Nothing.”
“Not sure you realize, but you’re part of a household of schemers trained to spot tells and lies written on the face.”
I blinked rapidly, desperate to bury the emotion, and pulled myself onto the back of the horse.
Sander gripped the bridle. “Did Jonas do something to distress you? He does mean well, I promise, but sometimes speaks before he thinks.”
“No. Of course not.” I prayed he could not hear the tremble in my voice. “I simply received some unsavory news from home. Nothing so wretched to fret over, merely upsetting. I wanted to be alone for a moment.”
The prince glanced toward the open door to the stables. “I don’t know if that’s wise, not after the elven?—”
“Have you forgotten that I can devour men, Prince? If another Ljosalfar attacked me, he would fall into the Nothing for eternity.”
Sander eyed me with what seemed sincere concern. “Skadi, Jonas is my brother, but you’re my sister now. If something is troubling you, I’m known to be a decent listener.”
“Thank you, but I’ll return shortly.” I sat straighter. “I simply must gather my thoughts before I speak to him now that I know the truth.”
“Truth about what?”
Dammit. My mind was reeling too swiftly that my words were too free. “I am told Arion still vies for my affection and your brother will try to keep it. I never wanted to be a prize, Sander. I simply wanted a home.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you do have a home here.” My brother-in-law released the bridle. “If you think Jonas does not care for you, forgive me, but you’re wrong. His mesmer attacked him over thoughts of you. That affection cannot be fabricated.”
My pulse thudded in my ears. All at once, the conversation and stable were too suffocating. “Are you going to prevent me from riding? It was a calming activity for me on Natthaven.”
Sander’s jaw went taut, but he stepped aside. “No. This family will never hold you prisoner.”
His words held meaning, a bit of a veiled promise that might lend way to hope. I gave him a nod of thanks and nudged the mare toward the back wood beyond the palace gates.
When trees blotted out the sun, a new tear fell. I swiped it away in a rush. What the hells was wrong with me? The prince had never offered his heart and instead promised the opposite. There was no reason to take offense to his kindness, despite the motivations.
Was there anything wrong about taking pleasure from each other? Our hearts would remain our own, but we were husband and wife. Perhaps, we could come to an agreement of friendly interactions, with a bit more if desired.
An ache burned in my chest. Truth be told, I wasn’t certain I could remain close to Jonas Eriksson and keep my heart safe.
Better to return to duty and distance.
The decision was wrong, and felt horrid in my mind.
Sander had more reason to despise me and bring me misery than anyone, but he offered up a truth about my husband’s nightmares.
Jonas only fevered with fears of losing those he cherished.
Dammit. I did not know what to think.
Near a dark pond, I slid off the horse and allowed her time to drink. After a few gentle strokes to her neck, I left the mare and wandered along the water’s edge. Trees were tall and made of dark trunks and limbs. The wood did not smell of blossoms and sweet honey like on Natthaven. Here, it was like clean mist.
I’d felt accepted here, valued. Now my mind battled to convince me it was all a ruse to meet the condition of the alliance.
The horse whinnied across the pond, plodding her hooves with impatience. No wonder. Through the gaps in the branches, a tumult of darkened clouds rolled across the sky. I let out a sigh. If I wished to beat the storm, I would need to confront the prince sooner than later.
I kept walking around the pond, already halfway back, but on my next step, the ground gave out and I fell into nothing but empty black.