33. The Mist Thief
Chapter 33
My knees were tucked against my chest, a woven wrap was around my shoulders, and half-eaten on a plate on the table was a honey cake with spiced cream.
The morning stole Jonas away with his mother, Sander, and most of the Kryv to see to a shipment from the Southern shores. I woke to a note on his pillow and a bawdy list of all the things my nightmare planned to do to me once he returned.
Tomorrow we would leave for our first visit back to Natthaven.
I would miss the laughter, the chaos, the moments where it was so simple to forget we even had royal duties. Still, I did look forward to introducing Jonas to the isle in a different light other than battle.
All week my body ached for more of the man. No mistake, I would never sleep soundly again if he were not curled around me. My core throbbed merely thinking of the wonderfully torturous ways Jonas Eriksson used his tongue, the way he twisted me up and commanded my body until I felt like I would split in two from heated pleasure.
I blew out a breath, rubbing the flush of heat off my neck, and forced my focus on the pages. The tale was a fae saga. A symbol of Mira’s realms was embossed on the parchment, then again Von gave up they’d spent the first week of our tentative vow gathering tales from across the fae realms.
I had Night Folk stories, sea fae legends, twisted stories of fate from the Western lands. The tale in my hands spoke of two boys who grew as brothers and took different titles—a lord of heart and a lord of war.
It was an eerie tale, one of fate, betrayal, and the love of a woman.
The tale ended with a curse delivered from the lord of hearts over the lord of war. The warlord was forced to wander the lands, poisoning and twisting loyalty of the people until they took to battle—father against son, wife against husband—while he searched for his lost lover.
There was something about the story that felt almost too real to be myth. Brutal and a little tragic, still I could not stop reading.
Until the door kicked open with a soft curse.
The book tumbled to the ground, and I nearly spilled over with it. The alver king filled the doorway, utterly transfixed on a stack of sealed missives in his hands. He would squint one eye, then switch to the other, studying the symbols printed on the front, curse again, and do the same with the next one.
I wasn’t certain he even knew I was there.
Jonas’s father was broad and tall like his sons, and on my first glance at him in the negotiations, I thought him to be a cruel man. He did not smile, and seemed ready to lash out if too many folk spoke to him at once.
Time in Klockglas proved otherwise.
True, the king did not chatter endlessly, he observed. Quiet and stoic, but there was no denying a light filled his eyes at the sight of his queen and his sons and those he considered his family.
He did not raise his voice or his hands.
I took him to be a man who merely watched the world around him, a gentle shadow.
“Highness, good morning.”
Kase looked up from the missives. “Didn’t realize you were here. And stop calling me Highness, girl.”
Much like his temperament, if I had not observed his words in these weeks, I might tremble beneath his gritty, low voice.
He spoke like that to everyone.
“I feel strange calling you by a given name, so what would you have me call you? Father-in-law?”
“Bit of a mouthful.” He stepped into the room, making his way to the desk near the window. “Call me whatever you like.”
“Except royal titles.”
Kase jabbed the air with the missives. “Exactly.”
I clasped my hands behind my back, pulse racing. “Would it be strange if I called you Daj? My own is dead.”
The king stalled his hand from placing the missives on the desk. For a breath, he didn’t move, and I wanted to flee. What a foolish thing to say. It was not as though I was some beloved child of his, not like his sons.
Yes, we got on all right. Yes, he had given thanks for aiding Jonas during the mesmer fever, but . . .
“I like that,” he said, voice rough. “That’ll do fine.”
A small smile curved in the corner of my mouth.
“Unfortunately, I have been charged as the post deliverer today.” The king lifted the missives. “One has an elven symbol, so I think it is addressed to you.”
He thought? I went to the desk and rifled through the stack. One was to me from Natthaven, another from the Ever Queen, but the rest were not mine.
With a touch of hesitation, I handed the other letters back to the king. “Um, these are for others.”
He took them back without a pause. “Not my fault. I’ve said countless times, I am the last sod in this palace who ought to be delivering official missives.”
Could the king not read? “I-I can tell you to whom they’re addressed. If you’d like.”
“Certainly would save some time.”
One by one, I told him the names. Kase arranged them in a way that seemed like he was assigning a name with the position he was holding it in his hand.
Most were for him and the queen, some for the palace staff and the inner circle of Kryv. Jonas received one from a man named Silas, who Kase told me was the fate king in the westernmost region.
“Silas helped Jonas through the fae battles when he was a boy. They’ve been close ever since.” Kase tucked the remaining notes by his side. “I can read, if you’re wondering.”
“Oh.” What was I supposed to say? “Good.”
The king scoffed. “Malin calls them dancing words. Everything shuffles about, so it takes me much longer to read a simple note.”
“Oh. Now, I see why the queen read the vow alliance.” I smiled, a bloom of respect for the queen taking hold. She had made no great to-do about it, had never ruffled under my grandfather’s scrutiny, merely took a burden away from her husband without a word.
“My sons began reading official documents likely much younger than the other heirs, but they were all fools today, leaving me to handle the post. As if they don’t even know me.”
Doubtless because the Black Palace would not require a staff to do such a menial chore, the royal house saw to their own post.
I chuckled. “Well, I am here now if they do the same on the next post.”
The king dipped his chin, but hesitated at the door. “Once, I would’ve been ashamed to ever admit that. I would hide it. There are some things that don’t need to be hidden.”
I fiddled my fingers by my sides, unsettled. “I feel like you’re telling me something.”
“Have you ever enjoyed your power?”
Not the question I expected. Words fumbled over my tongue. “I, well, I suppose I enjoyed the day we all sparred.”
“Was that the first time you ever used it for entertainment?”
“It isn’t a lovely magic.”
“Why? Because that is all you’ve been told your entire life?” The king stepped back into the room. “Has anyone not feared those thieving mists of yours?”
“Not until . . .” My voice faded and an unwelcome sting of emotion burned behind my eyes.
“Not until when?”
I held the king’s stare. “Jonas. The vows. I thought he wanted to chain me like Arion, but something he said as we were leaving made me think differently.”
I suppose it is a good thing she goes to a realm of nightmares then. She’ll fit right in.
Perhaps it was that moment when my heart cracked and let in my nightmare prince little by little.
Kase set the missives down, destroying his carefully placed order, and perched on the arm of one of the chairs. “Look, girl, when words and fear are pushed into your mind over and over, it becomes a truth. Magic might even shift to fit the words. Sometimes it causes our true selves to retreat to some dark place inside us.”
“You sound like you speak from experience.”
The king gave nothing up, simply stood again and strode for the door. “Follow me. Others might fear your power, but as it happens, I have need of darkness such as yours.”
“Where are we going?” I knew better to refuse a king and followed him into the corridor.
On the final step before landing on Jonas’s wing, the king paused, a crooked, sly grin on his mouth. “You’re about to become a true thief.”