Chapter 11 – Vale #2
“That’s what they call me.” I might no longer identify as an Aaberg, but the nickname was better than being called the Warrior Ice Spider.
“You’ve built a career fighting with the king’s army. You must have made friends with officers. Or just loads of regular soldiers.”
“Of course.” As a prince, I’d never gotten too close to most of them. That would have been inappropriate. However, I had a few officers I called friends.
“How many would switch sides and fight for you, if you asked?”
Aleksander’s question hit me like a blow to the chest. I’d often thought of having to fight the males and females I’d stood with in the army, but to ask them to risk their lives and turn traitor?
“You’re asking that risk of the great houses and their armies,” Bac pressed. “Why not those you know from battle?”
“Unlike the lords and ladies of the great houses, regular soldiers and officers do not have thick castle walls to protect them.”
Should anyone who remained loyal to House Aaberg find a letter I sent by raven, its recipient would face a swift and brutal execution. Likely at the hands of the king.
“A war amongst noble houses puts them in danger anyway.”
It was true. No matter which way the wind blew, those fae were about to be thrown into a war. Perhaps it was better to give them a choice as to which side to fight for.
“It will be difficult for them to find us outside the battlefield,” I murmured. “We’d have to face them and offer them sanctuary right away. No questions asked, otherwise, it’s not fair to risk their lives.”
“I think it’s a good idea,” Isolde said. “There has to be a good number of them that will switch sides. You’re loved among those in the army, Vale.”
“And if we can sway House Virtoris, they will bring the Nava,” Qildor added. “Have you contacted Vidar?”
“Not yet. Though Saga said she wrote to Sayyida on her journey south to tell her that she’d left court.”
Qildor cleared his throat, an indication that he did not approve. “A raven should be winging their way to the island right now.”
We’d planned to seek the alliance of House Virtoris in person, though to do so would cost us time. Weeks, if not a full moon. Sending a raven, though not traditional, would be faster. And if I sent it to Vidar rather than the Lady of Ships, he’d be far less inclined to see it as a slight.
“How much do you think they know?” I asked.
Qildor had been a Clawsguard before deserting. He’d lived at Frostveil and was in proximity to lords and ladies and their gossip.
“At least that Isolde is standing against the king,” Qildor said. “And since they’ve left the mainland, it’s safe to say that their own family has done so as well.”
“Do it, Vale,” Isolde whispered. “A letter isn’t the best way, but it saves time. We need all the help we can get.”
I slipped my fingers through hers. “Once I’m done here, I’ll send a few ravens to army officials and trusted infantry. And to Vidar.”
Isolde beamed at the others. “Good ideas, you three.”
“We should get back to training,” Qildor smiled at Isolde. He’d never been one to linger in praise.
I nodded. “I’ll join soon.”
They were about to leave when my mate spoke. “Bac?”
He turned.
“Have you talked to anyone in House Balik yet? Sian or Filip?”
He shook his head. “It’s not the right time.” A pause passed between us. “And I’m nervous.”
“Would you like me to? Or would you like to join Thyra and me at the library? Lord Balik might not grant our other requests, but I can’t see why he wouldn’t let us into the Great Library of the Southlands while he makes up his mind. We planned to request leave soon.”
Bac’s face lit up. His mother had been a librarian at that very house of knowledge where she’d met his father, Tadgh Balik’s brother. “I’d like that. Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
They departed and pride welled inside me. “I love how you always consider others.”
She let out a soft laugh. “I don’t always.”
“More often than you think.” I squeezed her tight, and when I released her, she let out a contented sigh.
“I guess I should get back in the ring. Maybe Bavirra and I—”
“Princess Isolde?”
A well-dressed servant had slipped into the facility and was striding our way, flanked by two faerie guards. The servant was a dryad with black, bark-like skin and eyes the same color as gold autumn leaves. Most notably, he had three arms, the third sprouting from just below his right arm.
“Yes?”
“Lord Balik would like to speak with you, Princess Isolde,” the servant said. I was willing to bet that he was Tadgh’s personal butler. “And your sister.”
“Great. I bet she’s in her room.”
“She’s not.”
Isolde’s eyebrows pinched together. “You’re sure?”
“I checked the rooms before coming here. No one was there, and I thought you might know where she is.”
“Did you check the den near our suites? She had planned to stop by and see our friends.”
“She’s not there either.”
Isolde let out a soft hum before the confusion left her face, and a sly grin replaced it. “I might have some idea of where to find her.”