Chapter 29 – Isolde
ISOLDE
Upon returning to my room, I found Vale snoring soundly. I lay down in bed, and bells passed as my thoughts alternated between Thyra’s vision and worrying about whether Lord Balik was still an ally. Finally, the sun spread across Myrr and we rose.
Looking at the bigger picture, I should have been happy. Thyra and I were close—loved one another as sisters should. We would not fight over a throne but share. Side by side, we would bring Winter’s Realm back to peace and fruitfulness.
None of that will happen if we do not win, I told myself as I tightened my sword belt around my waist. We have to win to share a throne. And for that, we will need the Baliks. Likely the Armenils too.
“Vale,” I said. “Has a raven come from Morial yet?”
He’d been pulling on his boots, but at my question, he looked up, his lips a straight line. “Not yet, but it’s a long flight. And I expect Connan will have to confer with advisors.”
Vale didn’t mention Lady Orla Armenil, who had recently lost her mate and, from what I’d heard, would be unwell for moons to come. I believed it too. Just the thought of losing Vale was unbearable. To go through that—I shuddered.
“I see,” I said.
“Don’t worry, Force. Things are coming together.”
“And unraveling at the same time,” I muttered.
Vale pulled on his other boot and crossed the vast room to stand at my side. “Lord Balik will honor his vow. He needs time to understand what he saw.”
Vale had grown up at court. He was used to the games of high lords and ladies and how long things took.
“I hope so,” I said. “You’re training today?”
“Eireann and Baenna approached me yesterday. They wish to spar with us.” Vale arched an eyebrow. “A good sign.”
I hadn’t seen my friends since I returned from the battle, but if they went to Vale . . . maybe he was right. Was there hope that Lord Balik had made a choice and not yet told me?
“We’re practicing shadow magic after breaking our fast,” I said. “But save me a sparring session. If I don’t get back into it soon, my muscles will shrivel to nothing.”
Vale laughed and pulled me into him so that my backside pressed against his front. I twisted, offering my lips, and he took them in his. Fire rushed through me, potent and hot.
My hand snaked up, tangling in his long black locks. The shaved side was freshly trimmed and scratchy, but the longer part was as silky and touchable as ever. I tugged at his roots, knowing how much he liked it, and a low growl traveled up his throat as he gripped my hips and ground into me.
Stars, losing myself in a morning with Vale would be such a sweet distraction, but Thyra would be at my room soon.
As if on command, three rushed knocks came at our door. Vale groaned.
“Your sister has the worst timing.”
I kissed his jaw. “But waiting will make it hotter later, right?”
“You’ll be waiting until quite late. I have something planned.”
“Oh?”
“Of course. With your nameday dinner party tomorrow, I need my own time to celebrate with you.”
My nameday dinner party. In all that had happened, I’d nearly forgotten that Saga had planned it for tomorrow.
“Helloooo!” Annoyance settled into Thyra’s every syllable. “Isolde, I’m not here for practice. There’s something important, so if you’re not too busy, stop making me wait!”
“I’m coming!”
“Not soon enough,” Vale murmured, his mind still on what might have been.
I rushed to the door and opened it. Thyra took me in, shared a pointed glance with Livia, who had taken over the morning guard, and smirked. Tonna was nearby, having relieved Astril at dawn, and behind them all hovered Valintin, Lord Balik’s butler.
“Oh hush.” I waved a hand at her even as my heart pounded at the sight of the dryad. Was this a good or a bad sign?
“About what?” Thyra teased. “That your hair looks like you were about to be ravaged?”
Valintin looked away, his cheeks reddening.
One hand shot up, and I found that, indeed, my plaited hair was not as neat as ten minutes prior. “What’s so important?”
“Lord Balik has summoned us,” she spoke in an oh so holy tone that didn’t suit her, and judging by the way her lips twitched with amusement, she knew it. “Hence why Valintin is still standing here, dying of embarrassment.”
“Why didn’t you say so right away! Let’s go!”
She grabbed my wrist. “Skies, I’m serious when I say your hair is a mess. Fix it first. Make a good impression and all that.”
I rushed to the mirror. Vale was standing by the window, his face lined with mirth.
“Did you hear her?”
“I have ears,” he said as I set to tucking wayward strands of silvery-white back where they belonged. “Do you want me to come?”
“Only us.” Thyra leaned against the doorframe. “That’s what the warden said.”
“You know where to find me if you need to talk afterwards.” Vale crossed the room and slipped out. Fixing the last strand of my hair, I followed a minute later, heart racing.
My sister and I didn’t speak as we made our way through the castle to a quieter wing of Ramshold. Unlike the first time, I recognized it as Lord Balik’s personal wing.
Valintin led us to the Warden of the South’s study. The guards at the door moved aside, allowing the dryad to knock, and when Lord Balik acknowledged the interruption, the butler poked his head inside.
“The Falk princesses, my lord.”
“Let them in.”
It was all I could do not to run inside and beg the High Lord of the Southlands not to leave us.
Somehow, I exhibited restraint, as did Thyra, and together we glided into the study.
This time, instead of sitting behind his vast desk, Tadgh Balik sat in one of the four chairs before his roaring fire.
“How are you not sweating?” Thyra asked, probably trying to lighten a moment that felt as heavy as an avalanche rolling over my shoulders.
“I’ve been chilled from within for days,” the lord replied. “But if you’d rather I snuff out the flames—”
“No,” I said. “It’s not like we’re wearing furs. We’re fine.”
I was a little warm, but in no way did I want to make Lord Balik more uncomfortable than he already appeared.
My twin and I sat opposite the lord. He offered us wine. Usually, I’d say it was a bit early in the morning for such libations, but today I accepted for the sake of my nerves. After he poured three goblets, he leaned back in his chair, and a gusty sigh left his lips.
“We’re so sorry,” I blurted, unable to hold my words in any longer.
Thyra shot me an incredulous look, but I didn’t care. For days, I’d been dying to speak with Lord Balik. To apologize.
“We should have told you,” I continued, “but we were terrified of what we might be able to do and how others would perceive us.”
“I cannot blame you. Especially given my reaction after you saved my son’s life.”
My throat tightened. “How is Filip?”
“Well. And furious at me.” Lord Balik’s face softened when he spoke of his heir. “The moment he woke, he wanted me to find you two. To assure you I was still loyal, but I forbade it. I could not stop seeing those shadows. Could not stop wondering.”
His gaze drifted to the fire, and he sipped once more.
“Wondering what?” Thyra asked bluntly. “We will answer what we can. This relationship is important to us, and we don’t want to lose it.”
“You have not,” Lord Balik replied, and I swore my heart stopped from relief.
“I considered it, of course, but I made a vow, and I intend to see it through.” He shook his head as though remembering something baffling.
“Also, Filip threatened to reject his role as heir if I broke our alliance. Unnecessary, but the steadfastness in the lad lit a fire under my arse.”
Bless Filip. Loyal, noble, sweet Filip.
“Thank you for saving him,” the high lord added.
“Of course,” I replied. “Filip is dear to me. Not saving him was never an option—not even before we made our promise to you to watch over your children.”
“However, your saving of my son doesn’t mean that I don’t have questions,” the high lord added, his honeyed gaze turned to steel. “I have many. And I expect them to be answered openly and honestly.”
Thyra replied first. “You know our darkest secret, and we won’t hide anything else.”
“Have you always had this magic?”
I exhaled. “No. Let me explain.”
And explain I did. I took Lord Balik through that day in the mountain tunnels, the day of discovery and darkness I wished had never happened.
Any time I glossed over something or forgot a detail, Thyra supplied the information.
Together we worked to paint a vivid portrait of King érebo and how he had violated us, how the magic felt being broken open and how it roiled within us.
By the time we finished, the Warden of the Southlands had paled.
He set down his drink with a trembling hand. “That day we went to the library, you wished to learn more about him and his kind. And your magic, I assume?”
“That’s right,” Thyra said.
“When did you practice?”
“Any time we were not in public spaces or sparring,” Thyra replied. “We were either trying to practice—for a while the shadows didn’t come on demand—or studying.”
“Do they come on demand now?”
I cringed, and the motion did not go unnoticed.
“I’ll take that as a no?”
“Better than before, but saving Filip, while I am happy it happened, wasn’t exactly planned.” I pressed my lips together before continuing. “If I could have used any other power to do so, I would have, but that day the shadows acted so fast. On instinct.”
“However, I did create shadow figures,” Thyra said. “During the scuffle in the city.”
Lord Balik frowned. “I heard about that.”
“We’re hoping it was a turning point,” I said and meant it. Violence had bloomed yesterday, but hope had too. It only needed to be nourished, just as Marit said.
“Are the figures like those in your sword?” Lord Balik asked.
“Yes, although I’d say those are both more reliable but also riskier to use.”
Thyra nodded. “We might not want this power, but it has been useful a handful of times.”
Lord Balik blinked. “You don’t want the magic?”
“No,” my twin and I answered in unison.
“We’ve grown somewhat used to it,” I added, “but we didn’t want such a thing then, and we still don’t want it now.”
“Even if that magic is the only way to defeat the Shadow King? And perhaps by extension King Magnus?”
That gave me pause.
“You might be right there,” I allowed.
“We could win the war first, then rid ourselves of the shadow magic. You know, if we had a choice,” Thyra said sarcastically.
“You might.”
I sat up straighter. “Pardon me?”
Lord Balik leaned closer, as if he were about to share a mighty secret. “My grandmother hailed from the Autumn Court. They do things differently there. Long ago, when the fae in the south committed an unspeakable crime, the punishment would be to rip their magic from them.”
Thyra sucked in a breath. “Barbaric.”
“It brought shame to those it happened to and their families. Eventually, the Crown of Autumn put an end to that particular punishment. Nowadays, if the crime is bad enough, the fae is killed, as is customary in other kingdoms.”
Like Rhistel and Queen Inga would be killed if others learned of their magic. Or at least, that was the current law. In no way would I put it past the king to end a long-standing practice to save Rhistel.
“Do you think we could rip the shadows from us and leave the winter magic?” Thyra asked.
“We cannot rule without winter magic.” Not only that but I would die before I let someone take my winter magic.
I’d been magic-less once. Incomplete. Never again.
“Kings and queens of this kingdom might wield varying degrees of power and smaller magics, but they always have the magic tied to the land. Enough to use the Ice Scepter and temper the worst of winter.”
These past decades showed what happened if the ruler didn’t possess the Scepter. I did not like to imagine what would happen if a winter king or queen didn’t have a drop of winter magic in their veins.
“I don’t know.” Lord Balik set down his empty goblet. “If you wish, I’ll send a raven to my kin in the south. See if they have knowledge of the matter.”
“Is it too much to ask that your grandmother or anyone in her generation still lives?” Thyra asked.
“Not my grandmother, but others with the knowledge might.”
Fae lived a very long time, but eventually, they perished. Whether by violence, illness, or by their own choice.
“If we ask, they will want to know why,” Thyra mused.
“Certainly. But I need not tell them about the shadow magic. I can say this is for another power. Whispering, or something similar.”
“Thank you,” I replied. “We appreciate it.”
Lord Balik gave a single nod. “I think that, given what you’ve shared, our alliance is strong once more. Do you two agree?”
“Yes,” Thyra said, and I echoed that sentiment.
Our ally placed his hands on his knees and stood up. “Then if you’ll excuse me, I have a raven to send on a very long journey.”