Interlude
PRINCE RHISTEL AABERG, HEIR TO WINTER’S REALM, HOUSE OF THE WHITE BEAR
The heir of Winter’s Realm wrinkled his nose as he stepped on to the dock.
“By the dead gods, what is that smell?” Rhistel asked no one in particular.
“Grindavik is a port city. Fae fish here,” the king replied dully, as if he were sick of his son’s attitude.
Rhistel bristled. Days ago, they’d left Avaldenn, and his father had been testy throughout the voyage. Likely because the king had left his capital in the hands of Lord Roar.
Or perhaps his father had noticed that, after their rough first meeting, érebo and Rhistel actually got on quite well.
Two pages of the same book, or so Rhistel thought.
There was really something to be said for an ally who had seen so much.
Knew so much. Rhistel could not help but respect the ancient male.
Currently, however, the Shadow Fae king’s existence remained a secret known to only Rhistel, his father, Lord Roar, and others of the royal high council.
Those who commanded armies. But soon, after they released the news of Isolde and Thyra wielding shadows, King érebo would have to out himself too.
When he did, how would the people of Winter’s Realm take it, small-minded as so many were?
And after they’d defeated the Falks, would érebo try to take what belonged to the King of Winter as he and his queen had done millennia ago? Like the shadowy fae though he did, the heir thought such deception very likely. Perhaps it was that which had his father in such a foul mood too.
But instead of worrying, Rhistel waited. Considered. Learned more of their new ally. And most important of all, he kept to the plan.
If his father was smart, he’d do the same. Pity that, Magnus Aaberg, for all the tales and rumors told about him, had never been known for his intelligence. He was smart enough, certainly, but Rhistel and Saga had inherited most of their intellect and their powers of the mind from their mother.
Speaking of Mother.
Rhistel took in the queen, trailing behind them, walking next to the Shadow Fae King dressed as one of their Clawsguard until they entered the Ithamai’s castle and revealed his true name.
The queen’s face was blank, her eyes empty.
Shackles wrapped around her ankles, placed there moments ago specifically so the fae of Grindavik would see them.
The prince had been vigilant when it came to containing his mother.
He would never forgive his mother for what she’d done to him. How she’d made him impotent and would have stolen away his birthright. How she’d faltered and forsaken family and duty all because of guilt.
“What do you think of the smell, Mother?” he asked even as he gave her the command of how to respond.
She locked eyes with the nearest sailor, who appeared stunned that a queen was even breathing the same air as him. “Disgusting.”
The sailor’s face fell, but he didn’t deny it. Just nodded and bowed his head. Weak, like so many that Rhistel came across were.
Beside Rhistel’s mother, the Shadow King’s lips twitched upward ever so slightly.
“Stop,” the King of Winter muttered loud enough for Rhistel to hear.
No matter his growing annoyance, the prince did as the king commanded. If only because Lady Ithamai was approaching, and they needed the might behind her house.
Mother, Rhistel commanded. Look repentant.
“Lady Vaeri,” the king said as they met with the Warden of the East.
“Welcome to Grindavik, Your Grace. Your Highness.” She curtsied to the king and her prince, but Rhistel did not miss when the high lady’s eyes narrowed upon the queen.
Lady Ithamai still did not know that Queen Inga was a whisperer, but thanks to Vale’s proclamation of their parentage, she had heard of the queen’s infidelity with Lord Riis.
When Lady Ithamai asked, the king had confirmed the betrayal, though not addressed it publicly.
Soon that would have to happen, but not until Rhistel’s plan was completed.
“You did not have to meet us at the docks at this early hour.” The sun was only just rising at their backs.
“It was the least I could do, Your Grace,” Lady Ithamai said. “After all, you allowed me to return home to see that my daughters were safe. My sleigh awaits us.”
“Many thanks,” King Magnus replied.
Not bothering to listen to the chatter that began as they walked to the sleigh, Rhistel wondered if the brothel that he’d visited last time was still open. Should their visit here go on longer than expected, he might patron the establishment again. See if that nymph was still around.
He began dreaming of slipping between that lovely fae’s legs when a shout from a nearby crowd drew his attention.
Two males, a faerie and a dryad fought with their fists.
A crowd gathered nearby and took bets. Rhistel snorted at the debauchery taking place when most had barely broken their fast, but his amusement faded as one fae drew his attention.
A petite red-haired female lingered off to the side, watching the fight.
She must have felt him staring, for the female looked over and caught the prince’s eye.
She grinned and there was something so wild and untamable in the smile that Rhistel’s cock twitched.
Maybe not a whore tonight. The prince waved over the closest legitimate Clawsguard.
“My prince?” the knight asked.
“See that fae over there? By the fight with the copper curls?”
“I do.”
“Learn who she is. And where I can find her, if I need to. Then meet us at the castle.”
The knight nodded and went to do as his prince commanded.
“Clawsguards are not meant to make it easier to wet your cock,” King Magnus grumbled lowly.
“They seem to do that for you.” Like his father was one to talk with his ever-growing harem.
The king did not respond, and all the better. They had reached the sleigh.
One Clawsguard and the false one took up standing positions on the back of the sleigh.
The others were commanded to walk to the castle.
Once the nobles were situated on the dark purple velvet, the king began speaking of his plans for the armed forces the Warden of the East had left in Avaldenn.
Rhistel half listened. When they still had said nothing of note by the time the sleigh arrived at the castle, Rhistel put on a charming smile and leaned closer to the Warden of the East.
“You have cleared an appropriate cell for her, no?” he asked.
“Right after I got your raven,” she replied. “It did not take long, mind you. Our cells have all the regular enchantments upon them. We added a few for her magic, though it’s the ice spider silk in the walls that makes the real difference.”
“So I’ve been told. A good thing too. She’s as powerful as ever.”
“The shackles are keeping her docile?” Lady Ithamai mused.
“The shame too. She thought she’d never be caught.” Rhistel had to agree. When you could lie like he and his mother could, the world was ripe for the picking. Or his picking, at least.
“Let’s show her to her room first,” Rhistel said. “Just in case.”
The High Lady of the East needed no convincing. “This way.”
Their party followed Lady Ithamai through her castle sparsely adorned with splashes of purple and stone lions, and down, down, down, down into the deepest, most impenetrable dungeons. Ones no prisoner had ever escaped from.
“Will this do?” Lady Ithamai stopped before a small, dank hole in the wall far from the other occupied cells.
“It’s perfect,” the king replied, and the Clawsguard and the Shadow Fae shuffled the queen into her new home.
“She’s already quite secure but as you asked for the best, I will send the warder down to activate their protections. Now, shall we move on to business?”
“On to business.” The king gestured for the Warden of the East to lead and, as a pair, they left the dungeons. The true Clawsguard followed.
But the Shadow King and Rhistel stayed and stood before his queen’s cell.
“Burn this moment into your mind,” King érebo murmured. “Even the strongest among us fall at times. Make sure she cannot get back up.”
“I intend to,” Rhistel replied, and lifted his hold ever so slightly.
She gasped and gripped the bars. The prince sensed a pulse of magic that was not his, but felt similar. The queen was trying to access her magic, but none struck him. None would either.
“Soon, we’ll send forth the rumors,” Rhistel whispered.
“What rumors?” the queen asked. Her tone was hazy, for she was still not herself. Nor would she be ever again if he had his way.
“Of where you are, Mother.” Rhistel sneered. “Why would we waste time searching for the vermin destroying our kingdom when we can get them to come to us?”