Chapter 7 – Rowan
ROWAN
My eyes trail over Theo’s suggestively arched brow as he awaits an answer to his question. That same familiar laughing expression remains on his face, but he can’t quite hide the weariness around his eyes. Or the streaks of dried blood running down from his temple, and his pale, cracked lips…
I allow my lips to quirk up in a small smile and watch as his eyes widen in surprise. He likely had expected more of a prudish response. I close the gap between us with slow, deliberate steps, holding his gaze as I move.
“Well, that depends.” I drop my eyes, noting he’s wearing just a tunic and breeches.
The armour he was wearing previously sits in a heap just outside the cell.
Although covered in dirt and straw, I can tell the tunic Theo wears is newer.
The stitching is fine, especially along the blue and silver crest of the Kingdom of Kovaria—a sword with white wings— that sits just over his heart.
“What game did you have in mind, my lord?” I mimic his suggestive tone, while batting my eyes a bit too obviously, letting the address hang between us.
The amusement on Theo’s face fades slightly, and he appraises me again, albeit more seriously this time.
“So formal, Your Highness.” I hear laughter in his tone, and he flashes me a bright smile, the kind of smile one shouldn’t find in the dingy, dark, forsaken cells of the castle’s dungeons.
The ones all the way in the back—cells reserved for the condemned.
Rising to his feet, Theo dusts off some dirt and loose hay from his breeches. “I am, but only a humble scout.”
At his full height, he’s taller than Riven, though not as tall as Fel, but he has several inches on me.
I narrow my eyes before reaching my hand through the hidden slit I’d cut in my skirts, watching his eyes track the movement. A second later, I pull out a small flask of water I had strapped there, just below my blade.
“I’m afraid,” I say, twisting the cap off the metal flask, “I can’t play any games with someone who cheats and lies.” Taking a small sip of the cool water I’d filled the flask with, I smile. “Don’t you agree, my lord?” I bat my eyelashes expectantly at him again.
The guards will not have allowed him any food or water while they’re questioning him. And Fel’s men probably did not give him any after they captured him either… Which made my little flask of water highly desirable.
The not-scout gapes openly at my boldness. “You are unlike any fae princess I’ve ever met.”
“And you are unlike any simple scout I’ve ever met,” I say, holding his eye.
His mischievous smile turns curious, studying me again before he finally drops the pretense. “How did you know?”
I tilt my head to the side. “Did you think you were hiding well?” I arch a brow. “Sure, you might have flown under the radar of the general, or even my brothers, because men…” I roll my eyes. “But the truth is in the details—you just have to pay attention.”
He just stares at me.
I sigh, placing a hand on my hip. “The stitching in your tunic is far too fine for a scout, the thread too expensive—too durable—with a meticulous finishing. And your armour alone…” I give him a look. “Since when has any army prioritized the safety of a simple scout with Varrick steel?”
I suspected earlier, but now that I’m closer, I’m able to confirm the armour dropped unceremoniously on the floor is, in fact, Varrick steel. One of the rarest metals on the continent, it’s found and forged only in Skye, and a luxury very few can afford.
Theo sits back on his heels, crossing his arms with a slight nod. “Well played, Princess, well played…”
“Thank you.” I smile back at him politely, inclining my head. A second later, I take another step forward, tossing the flask at him between the cell bars.
Displaying quick reflexes, Theo catches the flask before looking back at me in shock.
I just give him a shrug back.
A little goodwill goes a long way.
I wait as he untwists the cap, taking a long drink.
“Why pretend to be a scout?” I ask after a few moments.
He takes another drink, shaking his head. “I didn’t pretend to be anything. Your men caught me and labeled me as such.” The corner of his mouth ticks up. “Who am I to correct them?”
Fair.
I consider him. He appears to be telling the truth, but who can really know? I decide to press my luck.
“What are you doing in Sitara territory?”
“Sitara territory?” He lets loose a clipped laugh, and I don’t miss the way the corners of his bright eyes darken. “This is Rosecliff, is it not?” He steps closer, closing the gap between us.
I hold my ground, although my instincts scream at me to take a step back and remove myself from his reach.
“This land belongs to the Kingdom of Daekhar.” Something flashes in his eyes, but it’s gone again before I can put a name to the emotion.
“And Sitara claimed it.” I lift my chin as I state the fact, not like I need to explain this to him.
When the Blackwing Court fell, the bordering kingdoms snatched up small pieces of it.
The rest was left to the wild fae, dangerous rogue raiders found at the center of most border skirmishes.
“It’s not like Daekhar was making any use of it.
” My tone is sharp. The taunt bold—even for me.
Theo eyes me with a look that’s much colder than before, taking another drink from my flask. Kovaria and Daekhar were close allies before the fall. But Daekhar’s own king is solely responsible for his kingdom’s destruction.
“If you say so.” He takes another drink from the flask.
I frown at him. Surely he knows this, though, because Kovaria is human-led, its interactions with the fae are limited.
“The Daekhari king was driven mad by his own demon queen. He destroyed his own court, killed his own children, and thus ended the royal bloodline. Without a blood heir, no fae can ever claim the crown. The tethering won’t allow it.
And so the land is left to ruins. What does it matter if Sitara lays claim to a tiny strip of land on the edge of a kingdom that can never rise again? ”
After the Great War, in order to fight back the demon hordes that threatened to overrun the realm, the six fae kingdoms forged a blood covenant to restore balance and maintain peace.
The ruler of each kingdom must be a blood heir to the original six royals who completed the tethering.
Without a blood heir to rule, the land would fall to waste. Cursed. As Daekhar now was.
“It matters,” Theo mutters before draining the last of the water from the flask.
Bristling with irritation at the direction our conversation has taken, I fold my arms across my chest, intent on bringing it back on track.
“You never answered my question.”
Theo’s smile is back and once again full of mischief. “Ah, Princess, you see,” he moves closer, leaning up against the bars, and I take a discreet step back, “I never intended to.”
I release a huff of frustration.
Without warning, Theo tosses the flask back.
I fumble to catch it. The empty metal canister drops against the stone floor, the cavernous space echoing the clanging sound even more.
I snatch it back up with a scowl.
Commotion sounds at the dungeon’s entrance. A soldier appears in the doorway, likely having heard the clatter. His eyes scan the space, and when they land on me, standing in the middle of the dungeon, his mouth drops open.
I wince. So much for not getting caught.
The soldier shouts, his hand finding the hilt of his sword as he hurries toward the two of us.
Before I can back far enough away from the bars, Theo flies forward, his hand reaching out and grabbing hold of my wrist, tugging me back to him.
His voice is low enough for only me to hear. “Be careful, Princess. This game you’re playing—it’s far more dangerous than you know.”
And then I’m released from his grip. Just as quickly as he grabbed me. His hands are held up in surrender as he backs away from the bars as the guard closes in.
I scramble away from him, my eyes wide at the threat—or was it a warning?
Questions swirl in my mind, but the soldier has already reached us, quickly putting himself between me and Theo before hurriedly ushering me out of the dungeons—this time through the main entrance—and back upstairs.
To face the consequences of my actions.