Chapter 25 – Vale #2
I inhaled. “It would be an insult to your brother’s memory for me to say that I am sorry. We both fought for things we believed in, and while my own beliefs have changed, I cannot alter the past. As much as I wish to, that is impossible for us all.”
The pixie opened her mouth, but I held up a finger, halting her.
“But I will say this. I regret that the realm is divided. That it had to come to this and that you lost someone you loved. That I dealt the blow and caused you and your family great pain. Your brother might have been a good male—and I cannot bring him back. I wish I could, but I cannot, and I am truly sorry for that lacking.”
Seconds passed in which she stared at me, wide eyes glowing.
Though she was still, two feet solidly on the table, mentally, the pixie appeared as though she stood on a cliff’s edge, and she did not know whether she wished to step off or jump back.
I was not sure her mind decided as much as her heart did, but when a sniffle escaped her, she softened ever so slightly.
“To be honest, he was a scoundrel, and we weren’t close. Still, I loved him all the same.”
A chuckle left me. “I’m related to a scoundrel, so I understand.” I didn’t look at Thantrel, but heard Luccan smothering a laugh and an incredulous whisper that definitely belonged to the youngest Riis brother.
“I see the world differently now,” I continued. “I would not act the same as I did in the past. What I consider just and right has changed.”
She stared at me, and I wasn’t sure she knew what to make of my apology. I wasn’t entirely sure either. But it had felt right and from the heart and it was the truth. The best I could do.
The pixie went so still and silent that had I not seen her lungs fill, I would have thought she stopped breathing.
Finally, though, she spoke. “I accept your apology and you. We were on different sides, and, from what I’ve heard, now we’re not.” She stuck out a small hand. “Don’t make me regret this.”
I gave her a finger, and she pressed her skin to mine as murmurs once again flooded the dining hall.
The pixie snorted and tossed her sheets of long, white hair over her shoulders. “Fates, we’ll be all the gossip tonight.”
“I expect we will,” I said with a soft smile. “What’s your name, anyway?”
“Xillia.” She looked beyond me. “I think some others wish to speak with you. I’ll leave them to it.”
She fluttered off as fast as she arrived, and I twisted to find a line of at least twenty fae. Some were clearly ravaged by the blight. Others by battle. Some wore looks of anger, others of interest.
“Fates,” Duran murmured. “I’m going to scoot down and give you and . . . all of them some privacy.” He did just that, leaving a sizable gap between me and my friends.
I took another long drink of ale before locking eyes with the first in line. “Shall we speak?”
An hour later, the last person requesting an apology left the table. Their frustration with me, with their king, and with the state of the realm had burrowed deep in my bones.
Of course, I’d known things in Winter’s Realm were not perfect, but to learn how far from ideal the kingdom was for the commonfae rocked me to my core. My plate of food, half eaten, sat before me. The remains had long gone cold for I no longer had an appetite.
At the end of the table, my friends waited. As none had a reputation such as mine, no one expected anything of them. They’d eaten and set in on drinking ale—all the while observing me. Measuring if I was well. Occasionally, I’d give them a nod or a wave, telling them that I was fine.
The truth was, I was far from fine. But I’d needed to do this all the same. To listen to the grievances of the fae of Winter’s Realm. Mostly, I could not fully apologize, and I was shocked to find that many understood my reasoning, even if they did not like it.
We are all people of duty. Of honor and oaths.
“Vale? Should we return to the annex?” Duran asked.
“Yes. I think so. I—”
“Urgent news!” a gruff voice shouted over the din of rebels. “Shut it now!”
The talking in the hall quieted, and all heads turned to where the voice had come from. Near the door, a male faerie with silver hair and wings stood, arms raised.
“What is it, Aleksander?” A female faerie as tall as me and with broad shoulders stood at her table.
“King Magnus and a constituent of Clawsguard have been spotted flying about the midlands. They were not so far from here.” Aleksander roared. “Lord Roar Lisika too.”
I stiffened. The king and Roar? Flying together this far south?
I stood. “Were they on wing?”
Aleksander’s gaze landed on me, and he scowled. “Gryphonback. Though I’m not sure I should say more with the prince about.”
Silence rang through the hall and fae stared.
I left the table to walk over to the male. When we stood face to face, a jolt of recognition trilled through me.
This male had ice-blue eyes. When paired with his silver hair and wings, however, he looked much like Neve. My eyes scanned him more closely.
The same chin and nose too. I suspected I was looking at a Hawk Seed.
“Are you going to run to your father now, Prince Vale? Tell him that we’ve spotted him? Squeal of Valrun?”
I shook my head. “You may not know this, but my wife, Princess Neve, is indeed a Falk. And my mate.” I did not tell this male that I was not an Aaberg anyway.
The time would come for that revelation, but not tonight.
“I stand with my mate. I’d do nothing that compromises her and that includes drawing the king here. ”
The male blinked.
“I only wish to ask how you saw them with such clarity if they were flying on gryphons?” The beasts were very fast. And if this fae had been on wing himself, then he’d already done the job of endangering the camp. “On wing?”
Aleksander sneered. “Do you think me a bleeding fool to fly by a king and his guards? On a night such as this, the winds alone would damage my wings, but the White Bear? He’d hurl me from the sky!”
I did not deny it.
“Then how can you be sure?” The gryphons would bear royal markings, but they’d be too small to see from the ground.
“I’m a fylgjarn. My white hawk, Arla, saw the heraldry of the White Bear and the House of the Snow Leopard. She saw the males too, and I witnessed it all through her eyes.”
My eyes widened. Skin-changing abilities with animals were very rare. It was far more common to shift, or even to be part elven and therefore able to manipulate the animal and speak with it. But to see through the animal’s eyes? To have full control? And this male did so with a white hawk?
The symbol of House Falk . . . and not just any animal. A magical one.
“Putting it together, are you?” His wings spread behind him, a luminous silver.
My early guess was all but confirmed. “You’re of Falk blood?”
“The son of the Hawk King himself. Born twenty turns before his firstborn, Aksel Falk, Fates rest his soul.” Aleksander looked smug. To be a Hawk Seed and have survived this long reflected on his resourcefulness. “Me and your mate, we’re brother and sister.”
Was this the fae that the rebels rallied behind? Was he a threat to Neve?
If so, why wasn’t she meeting with him? Aleksander claimed to have come from outside and judging by the ruddiness of his cheeks and neck, he had.
“You’re the leader here?” I asked.
He pulled back before releasing a booming laugh. “The leader! That’s a good one, Prince!”
“At the attack in the Royal Theater, the rebels claimed to fight for the heir. That must be a Falk.”
“Nothing trueborn about me, though. Well, maybe except my taste in good ale and fine wine. The stuff here is swill, but it gets the job done, I suppose.” He reached to the nearest table and plucked a horn from a dryad’s stand. They didn’t stop him, only rolled their eyes.
“Plus, I have not a speck of Winter magic,” Aleksander added after a long pull. “No Winter magic means no crown.”
“I see.” The next question, one I’d been wondering since Neve left to dine with the leaders, built behind my lips until it spilled out. “So, who is the leader?”
Aleksander popped an eyebrow. “Well, that’s Thyra Falk—your mate’s twin and my half-sister.”
My knees buckled. Neve’s twin.
Fates, I could only imagine what Neve had felt at that revelation. Neve had so wished to know her family and now she had someone close to her, so close they’d once shared a womb.
Aleksander leaned closer, and with ale-soured breath, spoke again. “Any idea where your father is heading? He flew southwest.”
I drew in a breath as I considered. Southwest was the direction we’d come from. There were no great houses in the area, only the Lost Kingdom of Dergia, Vitvik, smaller towns and villages, and mountains. So many mountains.
The king might be going to the coinary from which I’d withdrawn coin and trying to follow me from there, but even that idea sat wrong in my belly.
He’d send soldiers to fetch us, and yet he flew with Roar.
Why would he bring Roar to hunt Neve and me down?
I didn’t deny that Roar would want to see Neve harmed, but the king would do that at court.
He’d wish for an audience. He always did.
“I haven’t a clue,” I admitted. “But I’d also like to find out.”