Chapter 7
Briar
Abrax shook his head, water from his mane spraying with the motion. His white coat glimmered in the hot summer sun, and Briar was thankful for the water that flowed as his mane and tail. The mist was a welcome reprieve from the heat.
He’d come out here when he’d seen Abrax running along the rolling waves.
The sea was choppier than usual today, the sweltering sea breeze a little more haphazard, and Abrax seemed to be enjoying the chaos as he ran.
Abrax wasn’t alone, however. A silver hawk was soaring in the air above him, swooping down and brushing the tips of her wings along his mane and coat.
And where Nasima was, the Wind Princess usually wasn’t far behind.
He hadn’t seen her in weeks, and shortly after that, she’d stopped responding to his sporadic correspondence.
Not that Briar could blame her. After his conversation with Sawyer, he’d made the wise decision to distance himself from the princess.
If Sawyer was noticing, her Court was noticing too, and the last thing they needed was to incite rumors or suspicion.
He could still aid her from here. Or that had been his thought until she’d stopped replying to him.
That wasn’t the only part of his plan that had failed, though.
Despite his best efforts, his mind wandered to her multiple times a day.
When she’d stopped replying to his correspondence, he’d forced himself not to send a water message to Ermir or Renly to check on her wellbeing.
More than that, he’d forced himself not to go to the Wind Court himself.
Showing up unannounced once had been suspicious enough. To do so again would make things worse.
What things?
Things he tried not to think about.
Things that had made him keep himself busy, running himself ragged and trying to keep from thinking thoughts he had no business letting enter his mind.
Yet when he saw Nasima, he had known. He’d immediately gone to one of the shallow dishes of water, drawn a quick enchanting Mark, and found her exactly where he knew she’d be: walking along the shore in the same place where they’d sat and spoken in the early morning hours nearly a month ago.
He’d felt her cross into the Court, of course, but it was only a matter of time before others noticed her presence as well, especially if the wind continued to increase.
Nasima swooped down again, the tips of her wing brushing Briar’s cheek as she did so.
Then she circled before coming to settle on his shoulder moments before Ashtine came into view.
She was no longer walking among the waves, but lying flat on her back in the sand.
The closer he got, the more of her he took in.
Her gown fluttering in her winds; her silver hair blowing across her face.
Her hands rested at her sides, swirling vortexes at her fingertips.
Her eyes were closed, but he knew she was aware of his presence.
“Princess,” he greeted, stopping several feet away.
She didn’t move. Didn’t even bother acknowledging him.
He took a few steps closer, then faltered.
This close, he could see how pale she was.
Her complexion was fair to begin with, but this was …
not that. She looked frail, as though she wasn’t getting enough sleep or eating properly.
It was rare for a Fae to fall ill. They were not plagued with sickness like the mortals of the realm, and while they didn’t need as much food and rest as a mortal, their power reserves depended on both to remain at their strongest. The more powerful one was, the more maintaining those things was crucial, and yet the Wind Princess was lying on the shores looking as if death himself was courting her.
It wasn’t until Nasima took to the air once more, a soft cry coming from her, that Ashtine blinked her eyes open. She appeared almost startled.
“You came,” she lilted. “I did not think you would.”
Guilt gnawed at him, but he didn’t let it linger. “Are you well, Princess?” he asked, taking a few more steps until he stood right beside her. Peering down, he held her stare as she mulled over his question.
“Is anyone ever truly well?” she finally countered. “Or do we all simply mask our ailments?”
“I …”
“I do not require an answer,” she continued, her eyes falling closed once more.
Movement in his periphery had him turning to find Abrax making his way forward. He bent his head, huffing into her hair, and Ashtine smiled. Or tried to. It certainly didn’t reach her eyes when she blinked them open, stroking a hand down Abrax’s muzzle. He huffed softly into her hand again.
“Would you like to come up to the House of Water?” Briar asked, crouching beside her.
“That is not necessary.”
Except that it probably was. This area of the beaches was close enough to the House of Water it was patrolled regularly. She would be discovered soon. If not by his guard, then by his Inner Court.
“Please come with me,” he said gently, extending a hand to her.
“It is not necessary,” she repeated.
He smiled softly. “Please come join me for the midday meal. Or at the very least, come out of the sun. Your fair skin will burn quickly here.”
“Fae heal just as quickly.”
“Ashtine.”
Something in her eyes cleared a little at her name, and he reached for her hand.
When she didn’t resist, he curled his fingers around hers before pulling her to her feet.
A moment later, he guided her through a water portal directly into his private rooms. They were less likely to be interrupted here, and he was certain Ashtine didn’t want others to see her in this state.
He sent a request for a light meal to be prepared before he said, “I am going to change quickly if that is all right with you?”
“It will not bother me if you change.”
“Would you like different clothing?”
Her brow furrowed. “Do you have female clothing in your rooms?”
He stifled his huff of laughter. “No, Ashtine, but I could have some procured for you.”
She waved him off, moving to pull the open window closed before examining the ledge that ran along the perimeter of the room.
The ledge was halfway up the wall, and the top of the ledge was shallow, allowing water to pool and flow.
It was for aesthetics as much as it was security.
The more water around the Water Prince, the more powerful he would be.
Briar let her be, going to his bedchamber to change into a set of fresh pants and tunic that weren’t damp from the spray of the sea.
When he returned, he found her on the other side of the room, far from the windows and balcony doors.
She was studying a large map of their continent that was mounted on the wall, a hand raised and her finger tracing along the western edge of the map.
“Food will be delivered shortly,” Briar said.
“I am not hungry.”
Briar shrugged, moving to her side and clasping his hands behind his back. “That is no bother. I can eat, and you can tell me what brings you to the sea this day.”
Her finger paused, head tilting to the side. “I do not always know where I will find myself when I walk among the winds.”
“Are you saying the winds brought you here?”
“No. It was simply a statement.”
“What is the most obscure place you have found yourself?”
She stepped closer to the map, her finger sliding along until it hovered over the mortal kingdom of Toreall and the Dresden Forest.
Briar’s brows rose. “We cannot access our magic in the mortal lands. The enchanted wards prevent it.”
“The winds forewarned me that I would need Talwyn’s ring,” Ashtine replied.
“Her Semiria ring? You stole it?”
“Is it stealing if an item is returned before someone realizes it is missing?”
He couldn’t stifle his laughter this time, and Ashtine finally turned to look at him. She eyed him for a moment, looking at him as though she’d never heard such a sound.
“You find amusement easily,” she murmured, turning back to the map.
“Do you not laugh on occasion, Princess Evermorn?” he asked in a teasing tone.
“I do not remember the last time I found something joyful enough to produce such a sound,” she answered. Before he could comment on that, she asked, “What if history is wrong?”
“That is …”
He was going to say an odd question, but that wasn’t necessarily true.
He just needed to work out what she was trying to say.
Their times in the Citadel catacombs had allowed him to slowly start learning to converse with her, but it still took a conscious effort to understand what she was truly saying.
So instead, he studied her for a moment.
Watched her bring her focus back to the Edria Sea and trace along the left side of the frame while rolling her words around in his mind.
Finally, he asked, “What history do you question?”
“All of it,” she replied. “Some texts I have read suggest there is power that once walked our lands, but no longer does. But does that mean it left our world altogether? Or does it simply mean it has been trapped somewhere else?”
He watched her trace the edge of the frame again, understanding finally dawning. “You speak of Avonleya.”
“You lived decades during the war.”
“Yes, but I was born long after the Avonleyan Wards went up. I was born well after the wards around the mortal lands were erected. I remember my parents trying desperately to keep the peace with Deimas and Esmeray,” Briar answered.
“And yet their blood was still spilled.”
He swallowed thickly as the memories flashed in his mind. Standing stoically beside his brother and Sorin. Hidden among the crowd and glamoured. Forcing himself not to react, not to make a sound. Slipping a hand over Sawyer’s mouth to keep him quiet when he couldn’t stifle his cry.
“Yes, it was,” he finally managed to say, just as a knock sounded. “Leave the food outside, please,” he called.
“I apologize,” Ashtine said. “I did not mean to stir such memories.”