Chapter 3 #2
Her brows rose so subtly, he almost missed it, but her Third certainly didn’t.
“Princess, if you do not wish for this, he can make a proper appointment,” Renly cut in quickly.
“It is fine, Renly,” she said, clasping her hands in front of her. “You can leave us.”
This time it was Renly’s brows that rose. “With all due respect, Princess, I cannot, in good conscience, leave you alone with a rival Court.”
“Are we at war with them, Renly?” she asked, her tone still light but the air in the room stirring.
“Of course not,” he answered.
“Do we have reason to believe the Water Court wishes to start a war by harming me?”
“No, Princess, but you have been—” He cut himself off, glancing at Briar. “I would advise against this.”
“Your advice has been noted and taken into consideration,” she answered, papers rustling on the table, and pages in books turning. “Renly, if you please,” she added, gesturing for him to leave.
Renly’s lips were pressed into a thin line, his shoulders tense. Briar couldn’t blame him. His Court had acted the same way when Ashtine had visited last week.
“I am not going far,” Renly finally conceded.
“I would expect nothing less, Ren,” she said with a small, reassuring smile.
“If you need anything …”
“I will send word.”
With a final hard stare at Briar, Renly turned and left the small room, the wood door creaking as it shut behind him.
Then it was just Briar alone with the Wind Princes, who was staring at him expectantly. His gaze dropped to the floor, finding her feet in the wool socks again. Her dress was a heavy material too, which only made the lightness of his own clothing that much more noticeable.
“It is cool down here,” Briar said, wondering just how awkward this conversation was going to be. He deserved this for being so impulsive in coming here.
“The sensitive matter you wish to discuss is the weather?” Ashtine asked, her brow furrowing.
Briar’s lips twitched. “No, Princess. It was just an observation.”
“Did you do well in your academics as a child, Prince?”
“Very well,” he answered, more than curious about where this line of questioning was going.
“And your studies included geography of the realm?”
“They did.”
“Then one would assume you would know the climate differences of our two Courts and not find the chill of the Shira Cliffs surprising,” she concluded.
“My trip here was … unplanned,” he said, unable to hide his smile now.
“So it would seem,” she replied. “Would you like to sit?”
“If you would be more comfortable.”
“I would,” she answered, moving back to the sofa and sitting once more.
Briar opted for a chair near the table, pulling out the cushioned one with armrests and taking a seat. “Again, I apologize for the unplanned visit.”
“And the purpose of it?” she asked.
“I did not like how things were left after your visit to the Water Court.”
Her head tilted, Briar assuming the winds were speaking to her, but she quickly turned and started gathering the various papers scattered around her. “I appreciate you not speaking of that visit to my Inner Court.” She glanced up at him. “Unless you did speak of it?”
He shook his head. “That is not my place, Princess.”
She nodded, stacking the papers atop each other. “If I offended you for how I left you that day, I apologize.”
“You did not offend me.”
Her movements faltered, but she moved on to organizing books. “Forgive me, Prince, but I do not understand what you are asking of me then.”
“I am not asking anything of you.”
She sighed, clearly exasperated despite her pleasant tone when she said, “Then I do not understand the purpose of this visit.”
“You had concerns when you visited me. I do not think you were afforded the opportunity to adequately express them,” he answered.
She cleared her throat lightly. “My Court feels those concerns are unfounded. I should not have troubled you with them.”
“Do you feel they are unfounded, Ashtine?” Her gaze snapped to his, and he winced. “I apologize for the use of your name. Again.”
“No one uses my given name. Only Talwyn on occasion.”
“I apologize.”
“I find I do not mind when you say it,” she replied.
He wasn’t sure what to say to that.
“Would you like me to abstain from using it?”
“No. I do not think I would like that,” she said in her usual lilt as she returned to straightening her books and papers.
Briar looked around the room, noting the untouched tray of food and full glass of water on a small cart that had been shoved into the corner. “Can we return to the earlier discussion? Do you feel the concerns you came to visit with me about are unfounded?”
“I wish I could say yes, but it would not be a truthful answer,” she replied, still not looking at him.
“Then tell me of them,” Briar said, settling back into the chair and resting his temple on his fist. His hope was she would relax more if he did the same. “Tell me why you wish to increase your weapon stores.”
Her movements had stilled once more, and she finally lifted her gaze to his. “If you are asking this to simply placate me, I do not wish to discuss this with you.”
“I would never disrespect you in such a way, Ashtine.”
Her stare swept over him, and she subtly nodded as if in agreement to something unheard. “The winds are restless. More so than I have ever experienced.”
“The sea doesn’t speak to me, so I need you to expand on that,” he said, using these quiet, private moments to study her.
The way she nodded to herself as she processed his words.
The way she continued to fidget with the books and papers while they conversed.
How she would steal glances at him, a worry in her eyes that he didn’t understand.
“The winds carry secrets of the past and present,” she said, her lilt softening. “They speak of things long past and paths of the future. They speak nonsense and truth, riddles and facts.”
“That is a heavy burden to bear,” Briar said gently.
“My mother did it with grace. Or so I have been told. I often wish she were here to give advice because …”
He waited, but when she didn’t continue for a full minute, he pressed, “Because what, Ashtine?”
Her eyes lifted to his again at the use of her name, and for the life of him, he couldn’t understand the reaction. Unless she was speaking literally and that no one other than Talwyn used her given name.
“I would ask if they spoke the same way before the Great War began,” she whispered.
“The winds speak of bloodshed. They speak of a prince falling. They speak of beginnings and endings and the balance tipping. And I am expected to understand it, and I cannot. Despite my days spent in this room among texts, I do not understand.”
“It is often said the winds know everything and nothing,” Briar said. “How can you be expected to understand everything they whisper to you?”
“Is that not my role as their princess?”
“Your role is to make the best decisions for the betterment of your people. Not to decipher ramblings that may mean nothing,” he countered.
She shook her head in disagreement, but she said nothing.
“Does your Inner Court expect you to know? Does Ermir? Renly? Sion?” Briar demanded. He tried to keep his tone neutral, but if they were placing such expectations on her shoulders … It made him irrationally angry.
“No,” she said. “Quite the opposite actually.”
“You stated they feel these latest concerns are unfounded.”
“I did.”
“And you disagree.”
“I do not know, and I find that aggravating,” she answered.
“And you are down here seeking answers?” Briar asked.
“I spend much time here, but yes. I am seeking answers.”
“Then I offer my assistance.”
She went preternaturally still in the way only the Fae could. “Why?”
“Because if you believe we have reason to be concerned, then I owe it to you, my own Court, and this realm to look into them,” Briar answered, standing and moving to sit beside Ashtine on the sofa. He reached for a book on the table as he said, “Show me where to start.”