41. The Mist Thief
Chapter 41
We were at the docks before the mists of dawn faded into the trees. The palace was quiet and sleepy when we made our way through the trees and waited for Nightseer to arrive by the first light.
Dorsan had seen to it a few servants would be awake to help us carry our packs, so Jonas and I took several to keep our departure quiet. Even Cara still slept. I left her a note of farewell.
My heart had been split in two. The man I thought cherished me was willing to stand aside and allow a cruel prince to use me and entrap me. To Eldirard, I remained a political pawn, and it sent my mind into an endless spiral of wondering if he ever loved me.
“There he is.” Jonas nodded toward the thrashing tides in the distance.
The sloop’s bow ripped through the surface of the sea, bobbing in the surf until it righted again, and small figures of Nightseer’s crew shuffled over the deck.
I blew out a breath of relief. We could be free for a few weeks. Already, we had determined no less than a dozen alvers would join us on our forced return trip, perhaps several sea fae; my folk seemed to still hold a touch of fear for Bloodsinger and his people.
Jonas took hold of my hand and walked toward the end of the dock.
“Skadinia.” The king strode briskly from the trees, more disheveled than normal. He wore a simple tunic, no doublet or gambeson, and his circlet was not atop his head. Behind him, royal guards formed a line.
Jonas searched my features, as though waiting for a sign regarding what I wanted to do. I rose up on my toes and kissed him, then faced the water as Nightseer sailed alongside the dock.
“Skadinia,” Eldirard tried once more. “You will bid a proper farewell.”
I didn’t turn around and accepted Nightseer’s hand onto the deck.
“Thank you,” I said with a nod. “I’d like to leave with haste if possible.”
The old sea fae watched the elven king with a bit of trepidation. “At your word, elven lady.”
Jonas and Dorsan joined me on deck. There was nothing but unbending loyalty written on my husband’s features. He didn’t tell me to face my home, didn’t look over his shoulder. Where my eyes were aimed, so too, were his.
“Nightseer.” Jonas handed the sea fae a folded piece of parchment. “After we’ve returned home, will you bring this to your king and queen? I’ve included all the praise for your service at the end.”
Nightseer took the parchment greedily. “Aye. Many thanks, dark prince. Many thanks.”
Jonas glanced at me. “Felt the sea fae ought to be on their guard.”
Violence was brewing in the air, and I wasn’t certain a whole turn would pass before blood spilled between elven and fae again.
“Skadinia, look at me.” The king moved in the corner of my gaze, striding out on the dock. His voice lowered. “Granddaughter.”
My chin trembled. Jonas took my hand and offered a gentle squeeze. I didn’t turn around. Nightseer shouted for his crew to catch the wind and take us below the tides.
“This was always for your future, your kingdom,” Eldirard shouted, but when I did not turn, the last word was a soft, half-broken, “Please.”
I closed my eyes, letting my head fall to Jonas’s shoulder when he held me against his side, bracing as the sea tumbled over the deck, drawing us out of the far seas, taking us home.
This was the dreariest I’d witnessed the Black Palace great hall.
The center table was lined with men and women who looked less concerned, and more murderous. The king slouched in the far seat, flicking a knife back and forth in his grip, eyes shadowed as much as his son’s.
Ash kept sharpening the curved blade of a curious knife with a hole at the end of the hilt. The rest of the Kryv were equally locked in furious rage. Tova rocked a sleeping K?re with a strange collision of motherly comfort and bloodlust in her cat eyes.
Kase stood at long last. “This falls on me.”
“Daj,” Jonas started, but stopped when his father held up a hand.
“It’s true, but it’s done. No sense wasting breath blaming ourselves. We do what we always do, keep sight of our mark, and we watch their backs.” The king pointed toward us. “They will try to sabotage you.”
“Why do you say that?” I tightened my hold on Jonas’s hand.
“If Jonas retold the tale as it was, they said repeatedly it was only a matter of time before he failed. I urge you to be on your guard.”
Gods, a sickening burn turned my insides. If the elven clans succeeded, the alvers would lose their lands they’d fought for long before this alliance.
“Stop it.” The king’s rough rasp broke my spiraling thoughts.
I faced my father-in-law. “Stop what?”
“Stop being afraid that we’re only worried for our kingdom. It’s not going anywhere, and that is the least of our concerns.”
“Is that what she’s fretting over?” Raum chuckled in the back of the room. “Ack, as if anyone could actually steal this land from us. Rather arrogant thinking, if you ask me.”
Malin stood next to her husband. “I will send word to the other kingdoms and inform them of the intentions of the elven clans.”
“I already sent word to Bloodsinger,” Jonas said.
“Foolish, Jo.” Sander scrubbed his hands down his face. “Erik is just waiting for a reason to lose his damn mind and slaughter Arion. He could piss crooked and the Ever King would use it as a call to war.”
Jonas waved the thought away. “He has Livia to keep him grounded now.”
Sander’s brows raised, gaze pinned on the floor. “I don’t know, I think some of the king’s wickedness has twisted up our sweet Livie. She might join him.”
A few chuckles rippled through the hall.
Malin approached us, placing a hand on each of our shoulders. “Keep a wary eye, we’ll play their games for now. But they will lose in the end.”
A week after letters were sent across the kingdoms, days grew calmer with each sunrise. Some mornings, when I woke curled tightly in Jonas’s arms, I would forget the truth for a moment.
I’d forget my grandfather loved me more for what I could be for Natthaven—a threat to enemies—and not for the heart in my chest.
I’d forget Arion emerged from his exile, set to take back what he lost.
I’d forget the secrets I still kept from a husband I never planned on loving so fiercely.
It was good to forget. To pretend all was well, it left me time to laugh with the Kryv when we sparred on the field. It left me time to work with Von on ideas for young ones across the realms. I even received a missive from the wife of the Night Folk First Knight in the North. She wanted to meet when Jonas next visited Rave camps to hear ideas about apprenticeships for older children, and books or writing lessons for the littles.
Von and I spoke enough it landed me next to his shoulder, pretending all was well, watching the staff in the cooking rooms.
“This is your chance.” I nudged his ribs. “She’s alone.”
He blew out a long breath, raking his fingers through his short hair. “She’s busy. I don’t want to distract her.”
Brunhild was a gentle beauty. Long hair the color of autumn that reached her waist. Features that were soft but radiant, and a voice that was calm as a summer morning. I wasn’t certain the woman knew how to speak louder than a heightened whisper.
“You are being an utter coward.” I pinched his arm.
He swatted at my hand. “Watch yourself, Princess. I live with the Falkyns, you might find your bath salts replaced with boil powders.”
“Coward.”
“I am not.”
I fiddled with one of the silver rings on my center finger. “Does it smell a little cowardly in here?”
“Gods. I’m damn glad you’re Jonas’s pest.” In a huff of frustration, Von stalked toward the stone oven where Brunhild crouched, inspecting a platter of oat cakes.
I covered my mouth to muffle my laugh when Von ungracefully announced himself, startling poor Brunhild, and nearly toppling her into the soot-soaked hearth.
Unintentionally, she was entangled in his arms when he caught her. I considered it a success.
To pretend, meant I spent days folding silks and satins with Frigg for her mother’s shop, snickering about the princes or trading gowns.
Pretending left plenty of time to lose myself in my library, though I was rarely alone. Most days, Sander would read in a chair, trading questions about my elven lore while I would ask about the fae tales.
I pretended there was no need for unease until I found Jonas sitting on the edge of our bed after the sun faded on the ninth evening, a missive clutched in his hands.
“What is it?”
“The first attempt.” He handed me the letter, then pressed his fists against his mouth, staring at the wall.
Skadinia,
I hope you will do me the honor of considering my words.
To the alver prince, you will always be a threat before a wife. We, too, were arranged, but we have known each other most of our lives, does that count for nothing? Do you not recall the warm months riding together, swimming in the falls? We were friends, Skadinia.
I am regretful how the attempt to secure my throne impacted you, and I hope you can forgive me.
I hope you’ll consider the idea of returning to your own people and choosing me. If you do, I will let you help the young houses like you always wanted. I will elevate your first familial name to nobility.
Don’t forget, the alver prince does not really know you. Not like I do, and after knowing it all, I still want you.
Can he say the same?
—Arion
I crumpled the note in my hands, fury, fear, a bit of violence, collided in a tangle of barbs in my chest.
Jonas pulled me onto his lap and buried his face in the crook of my neck, kissing me there. “You are not a threat at all, Fire. I hope you know that.”
“I know. Arion is not who I want, Nightmare. Close, but not quite. I did swoon a bit when he told me he would let me help the young houses.” Jonas chuckled against my skin. “Oh, and this part, how he would elevate my familial name to nobility. My parents would wail in the Otherworld. They were treetop folk, the land was their palace.”
He laughed a little more and kissed my shoulder. “On the day of our vows, my father told me you were my choice, no matter what brought us together, by taking vows I was making you my choice. He was right.” Jonas tilted my face toward him. “I will choose you every day, Wife.”
Each word pierced my heart. He needed to know the truth. Arion was right about one thing—Jonas did not know everything about me.
I traced the line of his jaw with my fingertips. “There is something I must tell you.”
The chance to tell the most wretched of truths was robbed by the door bursting open and Sander shoving into the room. “Jonas. Oh. Sorry to interrupt, but I thought you should know we’re being invaded.”