Chapter 5 – Vale
Chapter 5
VALE
T he sun had risen. Out my window, snow drifted to the ground. Down in the castle yard, I heard wheels rolling, horses neighing, and distant shouts—all signs of fae starting their day. And at my side, Neve slept, her long, white hair cascading around her, and her silver wings tucked close to her back.
My wife.
Moon above, I couldn’t get over it.
Not even after I’d watched her sleep for hours.
I hadn’t slept a wink, but I was relieved that she had managed to find rest. My wife would need her strength today. For when my father called, his fury would be great.
This wasn’t the first time I’d gone against the king’s wishes. What youngling did everything their parents wished?
Though this time was my most severe transgression. Not only had Father claimed Neve for his own, and he’d done it in front of other lords and ladies, but I had wed without his knowledge or blessing. Without concern about how it would make our family look. And, most importantly, without an alliance in mind because with royals, that’s what a marriage was.
The female in my bed, the one with her silvery-white hair splayed out around her face so prettily, could offer me no alliance. Quite the opposite.
Once the Blood Kingdom heard what had happened, they’d demand retribution. As she had taken our name, my family would have to protect Neve, or the vampires might believe our house, our kingdom, fractured. A risky proposition. At the first whiff of weakness in our realm, the Blood might attack to gain territory—to take fae slaves. They had before, many centuries ago.
The threat of them doing so again remained alive and well. It was why we had no vampire representative in our court, nor a fae in theirs, though housing diplomats from other kingdoms was a practice in most kingdoms. Whenever a fae had to deal with vampires or went to the Blood Court, they did so heavily armed. If not, their lives were in their hands.
So my family would have to appease the vampires. How, I wasn’t certain, but Neve should not have to pay for what had happened. She’d been through too much in her short life for me to allow it. She should have never been a blood slave to begin with.
She is a fae of Winter’s Realm. We should have protected her, but we’d failed. No more.
Neve stirred, pulling me from my musings. I turned, facing forward so she wouldn’t see me watching her when she woke, though the sharp intake of breath told me that my presence had still shocked her.
“You’re awake,” she whispered, voice raspy with sleep. Stars, her voice made me want to reach out and touch her. “Has anything happened?”
“Not yet. Any minute now, though, I expect it will.”
She rubbed her eyes and sat up. Last night, servants delivered her nightgown and a few items of clothing from Warden Roar’s old suite. The night gown, though it was hers, was a touch too small, and the top of her full breasts was on full display. As though I were a youngling, my cock twitched.
“I should get dressed.” She pulled aside the covers, releasing a scent that was quintessentially hers from where the covers had trapped it.
I inhaled, savoring her scent. “The bathroom is all yours.”
“I don’t need to bathe, so I’ll be fast.” She chose a dress and disappeared down the hall, shutting the door behind her. My shoulders slumped.
Our marriage wasn’t one born of love, but honor. Yet, the day after we wed, despite all the danger coming our way, I felt even more attracted to Neve than before. The taste of her few kisses had not been enough, but I wasn’t sure she’d ever want more.
To take my mind off things, I dropped to the floor. Exercise always helped me find my center, so I lay on the ground, placed my hands flat, and worked through one hundred pushups. I reached number ninety-one when a knock came at the door. Mid plank, I froze .
The summons. Quick as the gales that often rolled off the Shivering Sea, I rose and went to the door, expecting to find a messenger waiting.
Instead, my mother stood there, her blue eyes wide, her body trembling. Behind her, the Clawsguard on duty wore an expression of terror. No one, not even the strongest knights of the realm, liked to be around Queen Inga when she was in a fit. She was too powerful, her magic too strong.
“Vale.” Mother’s voice was dry, raspy, desperate . “Tell me it isn’t true. You did not wed her.”
So it began.
“I did, Mother. If you?—”
“How could you be so foolish!” Her hand snapped out, and I stiffened, knowing what was coming. The moment her fingers touched my jaw, a pressure built in my skull as my mother ripped through my memories of the night before.
I winced as pain shot through me. Burning moon, she had never taken so little care when examining my memories.
She jerked back as if I’d slapped her. “Your sister. Lord Riis . . . When he learns . . .”
“Father will do nothing to Saga,” I said, not needing her to specify who ‘he’ was. Out of all his children, my father doted on my sister the most. She was his pride and joy. “And Riis should be protected by his status. As will Lady Sayyida, Lady Marit, and Filip.”
I did not mention Neve’s friends, the whores, and certainly not Caelo or Qildor, both commonborn fae who had risen to knighthood. Their lack of a noble birth house put them at risk.
My mother shook her head. “Vale, he’s furious. I’m not sure noble standing will dull his?—”
The bathroom door opened, and Neve stepped out, only to freeze in the hallway. Though many of her dresses the servants retrieved were the Lisika colors of crimson and gold, she hadn’t chosen one of those. Today, she wore a green dress, something simple and elegant. Normally, Mother would have complimented Neve on how lovely she looked. Today, however, the queen’s face grew red.
“ You! How dare you entrap my son!”
A snarl burst from my lips. “She did no such thing, Mother. She?—”
“I saw what happened, Vale. Saw it all . If she hadn’t run, none of this would have happened.”
“You’re right, Majesty.” Neve stomped closer, fury in her violet eyes. “Had I stayed, had I not killed a vampire prince, and had your son not offered his protection, things would be different. For one, it would be someone else coming here this morning. Retrieving me to throw me in the king’s harem!” Her face had turned a livid shade of red. “So excuse me for running, but I was in a situation that you, with all your privilege and protection, could never comprehend.”
“You think I’ve never had to make a difficult choice?” The queen’s voice dipped to a growl.
Though many would have cowered, my new wife did not back down. “I won’t say that, but I will not apologize for my other choices. Not to you, Majesty. Not to anyone . I did what I needed to survive.”
The air crackled with unseen lightning, and for a moment, I was certain Mother was about to order the Clawsguard standing outside my door to drag Neve to the dungeon. That, for the first time, I’d have to defend my wife from my own blood.
But then Mother’s shoulders fell. She swallowed thickly. “You would do well to smother that attitude when you meet my lord husband. Come. He has called for you both.”
“And he sent you?” I asked.
“To confirm what we’d been told.”
My jaw tightened. Would Father allow us to defend ourselves? Or would he hear last night’s events only from my mother’s lips?
“Fine,” I spat. “Neve?”
“Let me get my boots.” She dashed deeper into my suite, emerging again a moment later, ready.
Mother sneered. “I hope you’re both truly ready for what’s coming. Follow me.”
I extended my hand to Neve. She took it without so much as blinking. We fell into step behind my mother, united.
I’d been a part of many teams in the past. Like when I’d played various sports as a youngling and trained my magic alongside other young males and females born into the Sacred Eight. My time in the royal army came later, and those armed brothers and sisters were second in my heart only to those in my cabal .
But this partnership felt different. No one I’d sided with had ever elicited the bodily reactions that Neve did. Never had I needed to go against my family to protect those on my other teams.
We twisted and turned through Frostveil Palace, my home for as long as I could remember, and it didn’t take long until I figured out where we were going. The throne room. Father didn’t use the throne room often. Only when he wanted to impress. To awe.
I’d counted on this interrogation being fairly private, but perhaps I’d been a fool. Nearly every great lord and lady in the kingdom were in Avaldenn for the Courting Festival. Would they all be there?
It didn’t take long for me to learn that it was far worse than I had imagined. Not only was my entire family present in the magnificent white room, but like the night of the Courting Festival’s opening ball, the throne room was filled with members of the Sacred Eight. Even more surprising, lesser jarls and their lady wives were present too, along with far more members of the Clawsguard than usual, and the Grand Staret.
I swallowed and shot Neve a sidelong glance. But she wasn’t watching me. Nor had she seemed to notice others watching us . Rather, her eyes stared resolutely ahead at the thrones.
When I turned to face my father, I spotted yet another person I hadn’t expected to be present.
Sir Qildor stood off to the side, at the base of the steps to the throne. He was not in uniform, but rather, he looked as though he’d been pulled from his bed. My stomach twisted. Not on active duty, so why was he so close to the thrones? And why were other Clawsguards behind him, hands on the hilts of their swords?
“ Here .” Father’s voice boomed through the cavernous throne room. The few people who had not noticed our entrance were paying attention now. It wasn’t lost on me that today Father wore the Crown of Winter. He didn’t wear it often and usually only in the most official of capacities. Some believed that was because Father was not pretentious, but I knew the truth. The crown he really wanted, the Fr?r Crown, had been lost since the Falk reign.
With Mother three paces ahead, we walked through the center of the crowd. Upon reaching the thrones, Mother climbed the steps, joining my family. I stopped and stared up into my father’s bright blue eyes.
“What happened?” Father asked my mother as she sat on her high-backed golden throne. The royal blue cushions took her weight, and she leaned back, seemingly unbothered.
“They have wed. In the eyes and by the hands of the Grand Staret, with many witnesses present.”
“Who?”
Mother’s gaze shifted to Saga. “Our daughter, the ladies Sayyida Virtoris and Marit Armenil. Sir Caelo, Sir Qildor, and Squire Filip Balik. I believe that is more than enough?”
My lips parted. She had not mentioned Lord Riis. Nor Clemencia and Anna.
Then again, Clemencia had remained glamoured. Anna had too, but Mother had never known the human in the first place—just like she did not know the whores from the Warmsnap Tavern.
But Lord Riis . . . was Mother omitting him because they were childhood friends?
Against my better judgment, I twisted and took in the room. Though my scan was quick, I saw no sign of the Lord of Tongues’s giant stature or dark red hair that glinted copper in the right light. The other Sacred Eight families were present. Where was he?
“Look at me, Vale,” Father growled.
I snapped back to the moment to face him, and Neve squeezed my hand.
“And before?” the king asked. “The vampire?”
Mother’s chin lifted. “Lady Neve killed the prince. Our daughter must have foreseen it before it happened and gone to help. Then she got pulled into the wedding.”
“And our son and his friends were trying to help the devious Lady Neve,” Father growled. “Against my command .” Frost crept along the arms of his throne.
Though I couldn’t see them, I felt the crowd pull back. Rhistel and Saga mirrored the motion, leaning away from our father. Only Mother remained unfazed.
“Then you married the whore,” Father continued, as the frost climbed the high back of the throne, turning the gold to white. “Have you got anything to add, Vale?”
My shoulders rolled back. “Only that she’s no whore, but my lady wife. A female who now bears your name, Father. A Princess of House Aaberg and family.”
“Bleeding skies!” Father shot up. “If you think I’ll allow this marriage to stand, Vale, you’re mistaken. You?—”
“It must stand.” The Grand Staret stepped forward, stopping at my side but with a good three paces between us.
“What in the stars?” Neve whispered.
Indeed. Why was the very fae who had not wished to perform our ceremony sticking up for us? And interrupting the king at that?
“What did you say, Grand Staret?” Father’s pale face had turned red, and snow of his own creation swirled at his feet. He didn’t use his winter magic often, but sometimes, when he was angry, Father couldn’t control the magic born of this very land. That never boded well for those around him.
“As I’ve already told you,” Grand Staret Arkyn’s replied, voice level as he was a fae of power in his own right, “I did not want to perform the ceremony, my king. However, there is something else I did not mention before. A sign.”
Father’s moon-pale fingers curled around the frost-covered arms of his throne. “Of what, pray tell?”
“At the end, there was a sign from the Faetia. Perhaps a message from the stars and the dead gods themselves.”
“Which was?” Father growled.
“That their marriage was approved. Fated. Holy.” The staret paused. “Even a king should not be able to undo the will of the Faetia—perhaps even that of the dead gods.”
Blood pounded in my ears. Had that been what the bright light meant? An outward symbol to others of what the Faetia whispered to us? The staret above all others would be able to tell us.
“As I am the highest staret in this kingdom,” Staret Arkyn continued, “I will not allow any under me to go against the will of the dead gods, either.”
“Under you?” Father pushed up from the throne.
“In holy matters—yes.”
A collective sharp intake of breath filled the silence the staret’s words left. For a moment, I thought Father would scream, would roar, would threaten the staret.
Instead, he stomped down the stairs to stand face-to-face with the holy fae.
“ You dare defy me? ” Each word hissed out of the king as if it pained him.
“I will not go against the will of the stars.”
“I can replace you, Staret Arkyn.”
“Might I remind you, my king, that my position is held until death.”
“Easily arranged.”
The old fae lifted his chin. “Not without great issue to the Crown. The Tower of the Living and the Dead holds great sway, and the nobles are not the only ones capable of enacting change in a kingdom.”
Change.
What a polite way to phrase what he really meant: rebellion . Should my father go against what Grand Staret Arkyn deemed the will of the dead gods, the holy faction of our kingdom would start an uprising.
The Grand Staret could manage it too. The Crown ruled, and most cowered before it, but in the hearts of the commonfae, the Tower of the Living and the Dead and the House of Wisdom held significant sway. A king might not survive going up against the Tower. Especially if any of the more devoted houses like House Balik or House Armenil and their people sided with the Tower.
It would not be the first time the greater houses were split. They’d divided during my father’s rebellion too, and that had only been decades ago. We were already dealing with the Falk loyalists. Not very successfully, at that.
If the way the air grew colder and ice particles formed around us was any sign, my father knew that too. He was weighing his options.
Finally, he regained control of his magic and the air warmed again. He twisted and pinned his icy gaze on me.
“Keep your whore wife, but do not think your actions will go unpunished. There’s a death to answer for. The Laurents will demand blood. And they are not the only ones.”
My hand slid up Neve’s arm to her shoulder, and I shifted her behind me. “Remember my promise at the feast, Father.”
Touch her and lose your hands.
“I will make good on that,” I added, my voice dipping low.
Father’s lips spread in a cold smile that promised malice. “Whore and prince killer aside, you’re right. She is family now, bears our name, perhaps will even bear my future line. Might already, for we all know that she spread her legs for you last night. ”
Gasps flew from the crowd, but I kept watching him. He had something up his sleeve.
“I wouldn’t risk harming my blood, son.” He twisted, snapping his long, white fingers. “Bring Sir Qildor here. And find Sir Caelo.”
My stomach fell as soldiers pushed my friend forward, still in his sleep clothes, and shoved him onto all fours. His violet eyes met mine for a moment before he gave a cry of pain. Ice manacles formed around his wrists and ankles, so thick that even a male as strong as Qildor could not break them.
“The whip,” Father commanded and held out a hand.
The weapon appeared too fast, and the king’s fist closed around it, his knuckles white with the pressure. Frost formed on the weapon, which then turned to sharp ice shards at consistent intervals.
“Father, no!”
He glowered at me. “The price for your actions.”
“I will take the lashings.”
“You will not.”
Before I could speak another word, an icy grip formed around my leather boots. Ice shackles froze them, and me , to the ground. Neve gave a little whine, and I twisted to see her smaller boots were also blue with frost and circles of ice ringed her ankles.
“But he will, my son.” Father raised the weapon, then brought it down.
The whip cracked, and a moan rang through the hall as Sir Qildor gripped the ground. At the first strike, a tear had formed in his sheer violet wings, making my throat tighten.
I called air magic, my strongest power, and circulated air, as warm as a son of Winter could make it, around my feet. But it did nothing. No surprise there. Father wasn’t only the king in title. He possessed the strongest winter magic in the realm. Switching tack, I bent at the waist, hoping to force my feet out of my rigid boots, but Neve’s grip tightened on me.
“He’ll freeze you up to your knees,” she whispered. “Then he’ll go longer on Sir Qildor.” The column of her elegant neck bobbed as she swallowed. “Harder.”
How was it she knew my father so well already? Or did she just know the cruelty of kings that well?
I had no idea, but my wife was right. One wrong move, and I’d be stopped, either by ice or by one of the many guards at the king’s command. My father might even kill my friend. I stood still as the whip cracked twice, three times, four. I stopped counting at ten.
The iron tang of blood hung heavy in the air and my friend’s moans, which had started out as loud and gut-wrenching, grew faint. Weak. Still, Neve gripped me tight, and I tried to cling to the belief that he’d stop, that he’d see sense. But when the skin of Qildor’s back was little more than ribbons punctured by ice spikes and multiple tears riddled his wings, my refrain vanished.
I’d opened my mouth to speak when Mother rose from her throne. “I believe that is enough, my king.”
Father froze and turned slowly, his glacial gaze so intense that anyone else would have run.
Not Mother. Full of grace, she descended the steps and placed a hand on her husband’s shoulders. “He’s a Clawsguard—an elite soldier. They take so long to train. Don’t waste that talent.”
“You’re right. I will move on to Sir Caelo,” Father growled. “Where is he?”
Silence hung in the air, heavy and thick and suffocating.
“We cannot find him, my king,” said Lars, an older Clawsguard. He was among my father’s most trusted. “No one has seen him since last night. He was supposed to report to rounds this morning but did not show. He’s not in his room either.”
Snow swirled viciously around the king again. “When he’s found, bring him to me. He, too, will pay for bearing witness to my son’s idiocy. For not stopping it and protecting Vale from following the whims of his cock.”
I began to protest when Father turned his ice-blue gaze on me. “As for you, go to the docks. Tell the vampire’s ship what happened and to leave my port. We will send diplomats to their court later.” Father released the magic holding my feet in place and stormed out of the throne room.