Chapter 21 – Isolde
ISOLDE
Luncheon was fast becoming my favorite time of day. In those short, midday hours, I got to see my love and my friends as we collectively broke from researching, training, or other tasks. To top it all off, the Baliks had a habit of ending lunch with a delicious, gold-dusted chocolate.
Thyra and I had spent the morning first practicing with our shadow powers, then taking turns with the Fr?r Crown. Even with Saga’s information, we had made no headway with the Hallow, which frustrated us to no end.
The shadows, though? Things were moving along there.
Before lunch, Thyra had shifted my bed across the room with her shadow tendrils, and I’d gotten my tendrils to serve me a cup of tea without spilling a drop.
These menial tasks we’d accomplished were likely nothing compared to what King érebo could do, but progress was progress.
“Whatever we’re having, it smells amazing,” Thyra said as we entered the dining room.
“The kitchens prepared pork.” Filip waved us over. Already sitting with him were Vale, Bac, Sian, Saga, and Aleksander. The spots near the head of the table, closest to Filip, remained perpetually reserved for Thyra and me.
“Wonderful.” I smiled at the next Lord of Myrr. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Thantrel, Caelo, and Prince Thordur are still in the training room, taking on your Valkyrja,” Vale said, amusement plain in his tone. “Others wanted to watch.”
Of course they did. Considering Halladora and Sigri had escorted Thyra and me to lunch, I assumed that Tonna, Astril, and Freyia were the ones sparring.
“Is Livia in on the action too?” I asked.
Livia had sworn her blade to Thyra and me until we took our thrones, but had chosen not to be a Valkyrja. After the war ended, she hoped to open a shop and live in peace, rather than wield a sword.
Filip smirked. “Four on three, against those ladies? They’d never stand a chance. They asked Livia to moderate.”
“Best of luck to the males.” Thyra took her seat. “They’ll need it.”
Vale kissed my cheek as I settled in and, one by one, we caught each other up on small matters of our day.
I was discouraged to learn that there had been another tussle between the rebels and the fae of Myrr.
We’d known that housing the rebels would be difficult for the Myrranese to accept, but I hadn’t expected violence. How foolishly optimistic of me.
I’d devoured all my pork and most of the vegetables and was considering requesting another full plate—practicing magic of any sort gave me a hearty appetite—when sharp and heavy footsteps sounded from somewhere down the hall. The others caught the noise too because we all turned to the door.
“Sigri?” I asked the dwarf standing guard outside.
She stared down the hall, at the person coming our way. “It’s Luccan, Princess Isolde. He appears to be in some state of stress.”
Chairs pushed back as we rose. Vale and Aleksander were already at the doorway when Luccan rushed through, chest heaving. No one spoke as he caught his breath, but when he did, his words made my heart sink.
“Someone has passed through one of my gateways.”
“From where?” Vale asked. “Can you tell?”
“If I’m paying attention. But in those occurrences, I’m waiting for someone to arrive. This time, I just felt an opening, but I believe they’re here now. Proximity helps me sense sometimes.”
“What if someone got through without Riis blood?” Aleksander asked. “What if they’re from Avaldenn?”
“The one in my home in the capital is gone,” Luccan reminded me. “I’m fairly certain the one in the Warmsnap still exists, but that would mean a gatemaker with greater power than me forced someone through. It didn’t feel like that.”
“Should we go find out who it is?” Thyra asked. “The brothel isn’t that far, right? And if your father is there, he’ll apprehend them.”
Of late, Lord Riis had been scarce. I suspected his distance was due to my anger towards him.
“Down the street,” Filip confirmed, and then, realizing how he’d sounded, his cheeks flamed red. “Not that I’ve been there. I’ve only heard from visiting lords and ladies.”
“Sure you have,” Vale teased his squire. “I’ve seen you in a brothel, Filip.”
“The tavern part! And I didn’t realize that server was also a fae of the night!”
Vale burst out laughing. I got the sense that a story lingered there, and it wasn’t the first time my mate had teased poor Filip about it.
“We won’t tell Papa Balik. Don’t you worry.”
“Let’s go.” I took pity on Filip because Sian appeared seconds away from joining in on the fun. “I’m dying to figure out who it is.”
We walked as fast as was appropriate for lords and ladies and princesses to move through the castle, and when we made it outside, we were met with the smiles of two friends.
“Sayyida!” Saga picked up her skirts, and nearly knocked Aleksander over when she sprinted for the younger Virtoris sibling. Vidar laughed, hanging back with Lord Riis and a young faerie with red hair and no small amount of mischief in her eyes.
“We wondered when you two would show up!” Vale shouted as a wide grin cracked his face in half. “Didn’t expect it to be in this manner.”
“Neither did we,” Vidar replied.
The groups came together. Saga wept as she embraced her best friend, and Sayyida, tough as she was, looked near to tears too.
My heart squeezed. I’d always had a hunch that there was more between them, a romance they never allowed to bloom.
Or perhaps they had never acknowledged those feelings.
After all, what would be the point? Before her father broke the engagement, Saga had been betrothed to Vidar—who seemed none the wiser that his fiancée preferred his sister.
“You came from Grindavik?” Luccan asked as he embraced the red-haired faerie.
“Vantalia, actually. Father has me stationed there to intercept the sea serpents.” The redhead met my eyes. “I’m Yrsa, Lord Riis’s daughter.” She curtsied, hinting she knew who I was.
“Princess Isolde,” I replied with an incline of my head. “And this is my sister, Princess Thyra Falk. I presume you’ve met the others?”
Yrsa scanned the group. “Not those four.”
Of course not. Why would she know rebels? Bac, Aleksander, Sigri, and Halladora had not been included in the wider society. Even now, they hung a few paces back, not quite part of the group.
The introductions were made. All the while, I sensed Lord Riis’s gaze upon me. Wanting my thanks for bringing the Virtoris siblings here? Or did he simply desire an acknowledgment?
He’d get neither.
“So, the snow is gone here too,” Yrsa commented. “Seems like the entire kingdom is free of it.” She craned her neck to peer at the mountains framing Ramshold. “Well, maybe not up there yet.”
She couldn’t understand that this was a sore spot, so I merely nodded. “We were finishing lunch. Would you all like to join us?”
“I need to be getting back to the tavern.” Lord Riis bowed shallowly. “I only wanted to make sure Sayyida and Vidar got here.”
“Hmmm. Well, the rest of us should head inside,” I said flatly.
Sayyida shot me a confused look. I’d been friendly with Lord Riis the last time I’d seen her.
“Yrsa, you too. Fill your belly before traveling home,” Luccan put his arm around his half-sister.
“Oh, yes. Traveling via gateway is so taxing!”
“I don’t get to see you often enough.”
“True, and don’t worry, I’m staying. It’s rare that I get to eat castle fare.”
“We have excellent desserts,” Filip offered. “Not for lunch. We usually just have a truffle, but I could have some of the better desserts brought out.”
Yrsa smiled at the young lord. “You know how to woo a girl, don’t you, Lord Balik?”
Filip swallowed loudly. “I didn’t mean for that to come off as—”
Luccan laughed. “Yrsa is the realm’s biggest flirt, Filip. Take none of what she says seriously.”
“I’m serious about some things.” Yrsa winked at Vidar.
The Virtoris heir looked away, and I pressed my lips together to hold in a laugh. I’d have to ask Sayyida what that was about later.
The others bid Lord Riis goodbye, and we returned to the castle, intent on finishing our lunch. Or beginning it, in the case of the newcomers.
Along the way, the Virtoris siblings caught us up on what had happened to them since I’d last seen them, and what was happening elsewhere in the kingdom.
As they’d fled to their island home soon after the king betrothed their young brother to a lady of the midlands, it turned out they’d heard little more than us.
My shoulders were beginning to relax again when we turned the corner, and I caught sight of a figure waiting before the doors of the room that we’d been taking our lunch in. The dwarf appeared young. Nervous too.
He spotted us and darted towards the group. When he reached us, he bowed low.
“I have a message for Princess Isolde.” With trembling fingers he handed me a small tube, the kind that fae tied to ravens’ legs for transport.
“Thank you. Anything else?”
“No. I mean, no, Princess Isolde.”
“You may go.”
The youngling ran off, and I opened the message to pull out the rolled-up paper.
“That’s King Tholin’s seal,” Vale said from where he stood at my side.
“It is.” I cracked the seal, unfurled the paper, and read the short plea that made my stomach drop to my knees.