Interlude
PRINCE RHISTEL AABERG, HEIR TO WINTER’S REALM, HOUSE OF THE WHITE BEAR
King Tyra and Rhistel’s father spoke the oaths, binding two kingdoms with a dozen witnesses present.
An hour earlier, Tyra had presented Rhistel with a lineup of over twenty females born to House Odarin.
Some had been far too young for his taste.
Two were forty turns. He’d nearly chosen one of them for her beauty, but then he’d spotted the ink smudges on Noni of House Odarin’s hands.
He’d asked her what they were from, and she’d replied that she was writing a book.
If anyone were to suit him, it would be another intellectual. At the very least, if there was never love between them, he hoped they might have something to talk about. They could find love and lust elsewhere, but to be wed to a stupid female was abhorrent.
He supposed he simply should have been pleased that Noni, born to King Tyra’s third wife, wasn’t one of the fae high ladies his father had been mulling over.
None had stirred anything more than superficial lust in him.
No one ever had, save for one female, and he could never have her as his wife, anyway.
So he pushed away thoughts of auburn red hair smelling of ink and mint, and smiled at his raven-haired wife.
Dutifully but not wholeheartedly, Noni returned Rhistel’s smile. She, like Rhistel, was under no delusion that this arrangement was anything other than political. Like many other marriages between royals or nobles within Isila. “We’re sailing soon then?”
“Tonight,” he answered lowly as the oaths continued. “We must return to Avaldenn swiftly. The army awaits us there.”
“Father is sending mages he uses on long journeys. They can funnel wind into the sails. I suspect we’ll arrive much faster than you anticipate.”
Fae such as Rhistel could possess air magic, but to help guide a ship for that long? Rhistel did not know any fae who could do such a thing.
The benefit of being able to use enchantments and spells in addition to natural magic, he thought.
The oaths ended, and magic sealed the promises of two kings. The sailors who had been brought in as fae witnesses left, and the mage lords followed suit, until finally only the kings, the princes of Winter’s Realm, Noni, and Thantrel remained.
“Much to be done,” King Magnus said. “We should get back to the ship and prepare.”
“I wanted to speak to your son first.” King Tyra turned his dark gaze onto Rhistel. “Your magic is powerful, and I’ve decided I wish to see it.”
Rhistel shrugged a shoulder in the direction of Vale and Thantrel, standing docile on the other side of the room. Since they had arrived in Kuro, he’d kept them dangling on taut strings.
“You’ve seen the reaches of my power.” Rhistel waved a hand in Thantrel’s direction. “The red-haired one has not been so quiet for even a day in his life, and he’s said nothing but what I’ve permitted since stepping into your home.”
King Tyra chuckled. “I was hoping for something a bit more dramatic. A show of your brother’s strength? Convince me that you’ll be able to use the Warrior Bear to our required ends.”
There was already a plan of how to use Vale. When the Warrior Bear reached the shores of Avaldenn and they positioned him before an army, he would be completely convincing.
“I was going to begin a transition of my brother’s mind on the ship, but if you insist on an earlier showing.”
“Make me believe it.”
Rhistel heard the words the High King was not saying. He wanted to witness total domination.
Who was Rhistel to say no?
The heir looked around the empty room, more opulent than the den they’d first been shown to. “Might you have an enemy lingering in your castle?”
“What king doesn’t have a quiet enemy or two?” King Tyra strode to the door and opened it to speak with the soldiers outside. When he joined them again, it was with a smug smile on his handsome face. “Lord Tyrili is a champion of the people, and they’re getting too many ideas for my liking.”
“How annoying,” Rhistel said, as if he weren’t about to witness this lord’s murder at the hand of his twin.
In no time at all, the guards had returned and shoved a mage into the room. The male fell to the ground, his hands catching him before his nose scraped the floor.
“My king! What is the meaning of this!” The lord rose from the ground, his face red with outrage.
“I told you to stop giving people ideas. As of this morning, I learned you did not listen.” The High King of the Mages smirked. “So I will warn you no more. Prince Rhistel?”
Magic spiked in the room, only to be joined by King Tyra’s own power and a visible whip of magic binding the lord.
“You’re sending a fae to teach me a lesson? Pathetic!” Lord Tyrili spat.
“There are no more lessons.” The king chuckled. “Proceed, whisperer.”
The lord’s eyes went round. Rhistel thought he expected his mind to go blank. For a fae to infiltrate it.
Instead, Rhistel spoke into Vale’s mind, loud and clear and powerful.
Behead him. Make sure everyone knows you’re doing it for me.
A faint press of defiance came from Vale. Rhistel’s neck tightened. He’d allowed his brother to keep a few secrets, allowed him also to believe that Rhistel was not in total control. The time had come to shatter that illusion.
His mental fist tightened, and the pushback ceased. Vale strode over to the bound mage, his meaty hand on the hilt, the sword emerging from the scabbard.
When Vale was but two paces from the mage, he spoke as his brother commanded. “I take your life in the name of my brother, Prince Rhistel.”
The sword swung, blood sprayed, droplets spattering Rhistel’s face. His nose wrinkled.
“Ugh,” Noni muttered. “My gown is ruined.”
Rhistel’s eyebrows arched. He expected any daughter of King Tyra to be cold, but that—that was positively glacial.
King Tyra stepped through the blood continuing to pool on the rug. “To the ships then?”
Rhistel lingered on the upper deck. Below, sailors scurried about, preparing to hoist the anchor. Something about them reminded the prince of rats, and he thanked the stars that he didn’t have to sail often.
“Where is your new wife?” érebo appeared and leaned over the railing, the wood groaning beneath his weight.
The heir scanned the king, seemingly in good health. Vital and vibrant even. How had the fae maintained his muscle mass when he had not been able to move for so long? Had the Drassil sustained him?
There was so much Rhistel wanted to ask the Shadow Fae, but he held his tongue. Too much curiosity could be taken advantage of.
“In a cabin,” Rhistel answered. “Settling in, I expect.”
“And you’re not eager to get to her? She’s a beauty.”
The prince shrugged. He could have many beauties, could take what he wanted, however he wanted, but he only ever truly wanted one fae.
“I have work to do on Vale and Thantrel. My new wife and I will not be sharing a room until we’re back in Avaldenn.”
“Political marriages can turn to love. Mine became one of respect, not love, but some do.”
“You loved Sassa Falk?” The question was off the prince’s tongue before he could stop it.
“For a while. We were mates and that sort of bond can be infatuating indeed.” érebo smirked.
“Come to think of it, you shouldn’t be taking advice from me on the matter of love.
I had a stunning wife. One I started wars for because we both loved power—if not each other.
And then I had a mate who I loved until she showed her true colors. I’m not the best at picking females.”
Rhistel snorted. “We’re similar in that regard.”
“Who is she, then?”
“Someone out of my reach.” He’d always been determined never to take away her dreams. Now that he was wed, what would be the point?
“At least you’ll never want for distractions. Princes and kings have them in great supply.”
“Did you have a harem?” Rhistel asked, allowing himself another question. A glimpse into the world of the Shadow Fae.
“I did. The practice was common when I ruled.”
“Not so common now.” His father was among one of the only remaining rulers in Isila who kept a harem. “I’m unsure if I’ll keep it. Of course, it could be fun, but . . . other things excite me more than females just waiting to be laid on their backs.”
Intelligent conversation and a partner with wit.
True domination.
The two sides of Rhistel warred. Always.
“Have you put other thought into what kind of king you’ll be?”
It was not often that Rhistel was taken aback, but the Shadow Fae’s question made his spine straighten.
“Of course I have. I’ve been training and learning how to be the king of Winter’s Realm since I was a youngling.”
“Not in this world. Not how it is or will be in the future.”
If and when érebo brought his people back. Was it possible? The heir didn’t know, but the Shadow Fae seemed confident he’d find a way. Or rather, a person capable of doing such things. What did he know that Rhistel didn’t?
What a stupid question. érebo had learned to use the Drassil network.
A web that not only saw the trees’ surroundings, but also heard the confessions and prayers of living fae and could give one access to the accumulated knowledge of the dead.
Of course, érebo knew far more than Rhistel.
The fact annoyed the prince as much as it made him want to ask a million questions.
“I think your father hasn’t considered how our realm will soon change,” érebo continued. “He will not welcome a return of my kind, no matter what he says to me while he needs me.”
“He cannot lie.”
“He can lie to himself and uncover the truth of how he feels later. When the war is over.”
“What are you getting at?”
The king looked him over, assessed him, more like. “I allied myself with Winter’s Realm. I mean to keep my promise, but the more I learn about the kingdom, the more I see how it could benefit from a new kind of king. Someone with more curiosity than innate prejudice.”
Rhistel laughed at the dangerous line that érebo walked. “I trust you as much as any other fae.”
“I don’t think that’s true. In me you see yourself, a fae who has hidden for so long. One who wants to show their real face. Their real talents.”
The heir studied the king. A part of him thrilled in not being able to anticipate anything about this male.
So often Rhistel could simply take people at their word.
And on the occasion that they twisted a truth or omitted information, he usually sensed it.
Nor so with the Shadow Fae. He had no idea what deeper thoughts érebo had in his head.
The king pushed off the railing. “Just know, Rhistel, that I’m open to forming new relationships.”
The king walked away, leaving Rhistel to stare after him.