Chapter 10 – Neve
Chapter 10
NEVE
T he sun was peeking out from the clouds when we left Luccan Riis’s home. Vale’s Clawsguards lagged a respectable distance behind us as we made our way down Lordling Lane, bound for the castle hand in hand, putting on a show for the city.
I wished we didn’t have to return to the palace. Today had been surprisingly fun. Sure, I’d be sore for a few days, but it had been empowering learning to use a sword.
And beating Vale hadn’t hurt either. My lips curled into a self-satisfied smile.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Vale asked, his tone light, teasing. “You look far too pleased with yourself.”
“Can you blame me? It’s not every day you best the Warrior Bear at swords.” Through the slits in my cloak, I fluttered my wings playfully.
He scoffed and shook his head. “We’ll see if you can do it again tomorrow. ”
“Tomorrow?”
“You’ll train daily. Early in the morning too,” Vale replied in that commanding tone that made my stomach flutter. “That way, we’ll be less of a spectacle. In the early hours, the castle training facilities are usually empty.”
I groaned but didn’t argue. There was wisdom in his decision. The days and nights were sure to be filled with Courting Festival events and when danger came, I had to be ready. Though I was sure Vale would give his all to protect me, I needed to do so myself too.
“No more sparring at Luccan’s home?” I asked.
“No,” Vale murmured. “We were already outside Frostveil walls today, but it would look too odd, us leaving at the crack of dawn each morning. Plus, who knows what my father has in store for the festival? Best to use the castle facilities.”
I wished we could spend more time outside the castle but understood his reasoning.
Down the snow-lined street, a square opened before us, stalls up and open for business. From them, fae hawked wares, food, and services.
“What’s this?” I had lived in Sangrael and walked the streets of Guldtown but I’d never seen a place quite like this.
“A roving market. They sell in all areas of the city. The best hand pies in the city are from that stall over there—Ragnor’s.” He pointed to a very elaborate stall with three dwarves working away inside. The line was so long it wended through tables closer to the center of the square. One faerie left with her order, a hand pie, her eyes wide with glee. She came our way and passed by us without so much looking at the prince strolling the streets.
And when I smelled the pie, I understood why. It smelled so good that my stomach released a loud growl.
Vale’s eyebrows popped up. “Sounds like you have a white bear in your belly. You’re hungry, I take it?”
“Very,” I said. “But I can wait until we get to the castle.”
Vale shook his head. “It’s been far too long since I visited Ragnor’s. Let’s go there.”
Not about to argue, we approached the stall and got in line. We stood there for no more than ten seconds when the oldest dwarf with a long, blond beard bound with leather ribbons in intervals to keep it out of the food, spied Vale.
The dwarf waved. “My prince! Please, there’s no wait for you. Come up here!”
“We’re in no hurry and fine back here, Ragnor.” Vale waved back.
“You might be fine.” A sly grin spread across Ragnor’s bearded face. “But I’m not so concerned about you, my prince. Your new princess, however, I’m quite interested in. Bring her up here!”
Over the course of their exchange, those in line had turned to stare at us, most looking pointedly at me. The young fae right in front of us waved us forward. She was a tall dryad with bark-like skin and four arms that resembled branches more than arms. During my time in Winter’s Realm, I’d seen few dryads and wondered if having four arms was common, or if this was yet another result of the blight hitting this land hard.
“My prince, you saved my sister’s village. Please, go ahead.”
Vale allowed the dryad to usher him forward, but it didn’t stop there. Fae of all races gave up their place in line. All of them had a reason to thank Vale—most having to do with fighting orcs and ogres around smaller villages in towns where their loved ones lived.
When we reached the front of the line, Ragnor smirked. “Why even fight it, Prince Vale? A brief wait for a sumptuous pie over the sword that protects us all? Even the lowest born of Avaldenn knows how to be proper.”
The prince smiled. “Of course they do. I would never assume otherwise.”
“What can I get you two?” Ragnor pinned his steely gray gaze on me. “You have not been here, my lady. Perhaps I can tempt you with my bestseller.” He grabbed a pie from the top of a pile and tore it open.
A savory scent filled my nostrils and drew saliva into my mouth. Meat, onions, and even small green peas filled the pie wrapped in a flaky golden crust.
“I’d love to try that,” I said, not even caring what kind of meat was inside the pie. “Thank you.”
Ragnor beamed as he handed me a fresh one and took Vale’s order. The prince was partial to pheasant. Vale also purchased pies for our guard and when we’d attempted to pay—which Ragnor declined with great gusto—we left to take a seat at one of the many tables in the square. The Clawsguard sat at one of the tables next to us and wasted no time digging into their pies.
I took my first bite, and the perfect blend of savory and spicy flavors exploded across my tongue. I moaned, which didn’t fail to coax a grin out of Vale.
“Good?”
“Why doesn’t the castle serve these at dinner?”
Not that the castle food was bad. I thought it splendid, but this was a new level of exquisiteness.
And to think it came from a stall on the side of the road.
“My mother loves that flavor too,” Vale said and for a moment, his eyes went hard. I suspected because he was thinking of the morning, when his mother had been furious to learn what he’d done. “You didn’t ask, but it’s wild boar.”
“Boar? Are they found around here?” The only time I’d seen a wild boar, a goblin had been riding on its back, retreating into the forests of the midlands.
“No, but the meat is transported quickly into the city. The beasts mostly stick to the midlands where the temperatures are milder. You’ll rarely find them in the mountains or even too close to the sea.”
“Your mother is from there, correct?”
“Yes. The Vagle seat is in the heart of the midlands. She grew up and lived there until she came to court. She married Father not too long after. For a brief period, she moved east and lived in his family’s castle until the rebellion ended.”
King Magnus’s rebellion had lasted two turns, and I would have been around two when the rebellion ended. I looked around the square, wondering if the people here had been present for the fighting. Or maybe they’d fought too.
Had my family? Not for the first time, I wondered where my family was from. If some of them were still alive. Clemencia had told me that the rebellion had shattered many lives. I suspected my family had been among the affected. Why else would my mother be fleeing to the west, where she’d perished from exposure and left me to be scooped up by vampires?
“How old were you when the rebellion ended?” I asked Vale. “Actually, how old are you right now?” I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought to ask.
“When we moved here, I was seven, about to turn eight. I’m twenty-nine.”
I’d known that Vale and Roar were about the same age, but not that they were exactly the same. I’d heard many nobles had pitted them against each other as younglings. Now that made much more sense. Roar and Vale were the same age, almost the same height. They’d both been born into great houses and were well matched in many physical feats. It would have been hard not to compare the two.
Stars, I wished I understood why Roar left. Wished I could give him a piece of my mind too. Even if he had the best reason in the nine kingdoms, I had that right to know why.
I took another bite of the pie, hoping it would distract me. It did, and for a few precious moments, I lost myself in its deliciousness again .
“You?” he asked and then lowered his voice. “Do you know?”
“Twenty-three.” My master had been fairly certain that I’d been around two turns when he found me. Younglings changed drastically turn to turn, so it was easier to estimate their ages.
“So,” Vale ventured and shifted in his seat. “Now that I’ve realized I didn’t even know your age, I feel like I should know more about you. We are married, after all.”
I glanced at the guards. Vale knew my past, so he wouldn’t talk about the fact that I’d been a blood slave. But what then? “What do you want to know?”
“What’s your favorite color?”
I snorted. “Oh, you’re going deep on that one.”
“I’m starting easy.” He laughed. “Humor me.”
“Amethyst,” I said. “Like the gown I made. You?”
“I’ve always favored blue. Maybe subconsciously, since it’s a house color.” His gaze met mine. “Though now I’m beginning to like violet.”
Warmth crept into my cheeks. What a flirt.
“What do you like to do for fun?” I asked.
Vale leaned back. His hand pie was already gone.
“Fun? Sparring with Caelo, I suppose.”
“You sound so convincing,” I teased. “Do you not know how to have fun, my prince?”
He fell silent for a moment before he shook his head. “Not lately. Before the Courting Festival, I was preoccupied with fighting orcs and . . .” he trailed off, swallowed. “Doing something for my father.”
His neck tightened, but I didn’t press and ask what that something was. I had a secret too. So I didn’t feel as though he had to tell me everything.
“I think we need to get you some hobbies.”
He laughed dryly. “What about you?”
“I read and sew.”
His brown eyes searched for something more. “Because that’s all you could do for a long time. But now you have an entire kingdom at your fingertips. Is there something you’ve been dying to try?”
I mulled that over for a moment, letting my attention drift to a crowd of faerie younglings, all with shredded wings. All likely victims of the mysterious blight. I hoped it didn’t affect their magic too, but all the same, my heart went out to them. I understood the sense of helplessness that could come with such an issue.
“Learning the sword will be my new hobby,” I replied, never wanting to settle into that helplessness again. “It’s difficult and I’m sore, but I can’t deny that it’s useful, and I had a bit of fun. Especially when I beat you.”
He elbowed me gently. “This will never stop, will it?”
“Unlikely.” I winked at him. “Perhaps I’d like to sail too.”
His jaw tightened. “Sail? I’m afraid I’m not one for the water. Though I’m better on larger vessels.”
That’s right, Captain Barvo had said as much. “Did something happen?”
“As a youngling, I nearly drowned.” Vale shuddered. “Since then, I’ve disliked being dunked in water. Or worse, diving into the depths of colossal bodies of water.”
“Showering? ”
“That’s fine. Feet on the ground and all that.”
“Thank the stars. For a moment there, I worried you’d start to stink and as we’re sharing a room . . .” I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t even want to imagine!”
A laugh burst from the prince, the sound so full of life and warmth that it set frostflies fluttering in my belly.
Lunch, regretfully, came to an end, and Vale and I returned to the palace grounds. The entire way back, even as we strode through the castle gates, I’d dreaded walking through the corridors of Frostveil. Of seeing the king, queen, or Rhistel.
“We’ll go this way,” Vale said after dismissing his Clawsguards and leading me not through the front door of the palace, but to the side. He’d claimed to want privacy with his wife and seeing as the prince was on the castle grounds, the Clawsguards were happy to oblige. “There’s a side door, one closer to my rooms. You should know about it. Just in case.”
In case we needed to run. That thought was being drilled into my head. The scary part was that it was valid. It wasn’t so much a matter of ‘if’ I’d be attacked, but ‘when.’
I paid close attention to how Vale swung us around the outside of the palace, through a small garden of winter hedges and pruned trees brimming with red winterberries. Benches completed the look, making the garden a place suitable for quiet contemplation .
“Saga’s garden,” Vale said, noting how I took in the area. “She likes outdoor places to think, so Father had it planted a few turns back.”
“How thoughtful.” I despised the king and hearing about times when he’d been kind shocked me.
“Like I said, he wasn’t always so intense. Nor so cruel.” Vale sighed. “And he’s always had a soft spot for Saga. His only daughter. He’s harder on Rhistel and me.”
I didn’t reply as we exited the garden and he turned onto a path that led right up to a part of the exterior castle wall covered in ivy. Through the green, I spied wood.
“Camouflaged,” I said. “Why?”
“It’s a servants’ door,” Vale replied. “Mother wanted to minimize its appearance.”
Vale brushed aside the ivy tumbling down a trellis. It had to be spelled to stay warm because, though the plant was hearty, few plants thrived in such cold conditions. Not naturally, anyway. I’d learned from Roar that most winter fae used greenhouses, and though I hadn’t seen them on the palace grounds, I suspected they were around. Somewhere on the royal grounds and likely in the city too. There were too many fae to feed in Avaldenn for them to rely solely on imports from the warmer kingdoms.
We entered the castle into a plain stone corridor. If Vale hadn’t already told me that this was a servants’ area, I would have known. The parts of the palace that the royals inhabited were sparkling white and immaculate. With walls of plain gray stone, this area was clean but not as stunning .
“Come on.” Vale took my hand and pulled me down a hallway.
I peered into an open doorway as we passed by. Most looked like common spaces for servants. One was a kitchen.
“How many kitchens are in the castle?” I asked Vale as we climbed the stairs.
“What?”
“Kitchens? How many?” Frostveil was enormous and one kitchen wasn’t enough for the royals and the courtiers. Perhaps the servants had dedicated kitchens too?
“A dozen? I’m not sure.”
“Have you stepped foot in a single one?”
He eyed me. “Most recently, during the night of the Courting Festival’s opening ball.”
Oh. Right. The night Prince Gervais appeared, and I’d lost it. Lord Riis had pulled me into the kitchens off the throne room, and I’d been confronted with the harsh truth that the winter fae didn’t only rely on paid servants for their labor, but slaves. Human slaves, from what I’d seen.
One had even pointed to my scar—mistaking me for someone at court. That had to have been the case because the haunted look in her eyes didn’t make sense otherwise.
“Are you all right?” Vale asked.
“What?”
“You fell quiet.” We reached the top of the staircase and were in the more opulent part of the palace. He turned left, and we climbed a wider white stairwell.
Shockingly, no one was around. I wondered if that was because they were preparing for the event being held in a couple of hours. Or if Sir Qildor’s whipping scared them into their rooms.
“Oh, nothing,” I said.
I could tell he didn’t believe me, but he also didn’t press. We continued in silence, finally arriving in the hallway where his suite was located.
“Does anyone else in your family live in this part of the palace?” The king didn’t. I knew this because, unfortunately, a pair of Clawsguards had shown me to his room. Saga was not nearby either. From her room, she had a sea view, and Vale, for whatever reason, looked down into the palace yard. But perhaps Rhistel or the queen were nearby?
“No, they all chose rooms facing the Shivering Sea. Though Mother and Father are in different towers.” His lips tightened. “A view of the sea would be nice, but I kind of like looking out into the yard.”
I would have chosen a view of the sea, but to each their own.
As we approached the door, my eyebrows knitted together. “Why is no one at your door?”
“I took the Clawsguard stationed at my door with us to the port. He was one of the injured. I suppose no one replaced him after. Seeing as I wasn’t there and the door is locked, it’s not a big deal.”
“I always thought they followed the royals everywhere.” I gestured to the empty space behind us. “But Saga ditched her Clawsguard too. Once.”
When she’d pulled me from the Lisika suite and forced me to gamble the night away with her friends. The memory brought a small smile to my lips.
“Once?” Vale laughed. “Saga ditches her shadows as often as she can.”
“Seems to run in the family.”
“I’ve been known to dismiss them,” he admitted sheepishly. “And no, we’re not supposed to, but it’s nice to have time alone.”
I didn’t know how Saga managed it, but I supposed that since Vale was a warrior, the knights saw no harm in following the prince’s orders. For now, that was fine. But in a few days, once the vampire royals had the time to send assassins, I would feel a lot better if guards surrounded us at all times.
“That might have to change,” I said as we reached the door, and Vale brought out his key. “At least for a little while.”
He nodded and stuck it in the lock. “I won’t put you at unnecessary risk. Now, to our room, wife.” A soft but strong hand pressed into my back, urging me to go in first.
I repressed a delighted shiver at his touch and instead pursed my lips. “A polite gesture, husband . Though you might want to stop staring at my rear.”
Color filled his cheeks. “Can you blame a male?”
I crossed the threshold, a laugh spilling from my lips. But when I caught sight of the inside of Vale’s suite, that laugh died.
From the door, I could see into the bathroom. My eyebrows pinched together. It was a mess with towels on the ground, along with the soap and other bottles filled with personal care potions, balms, elixirs and the like. I’d been the last one in there and most certainly had not thrown anything on the ground . . .
“Vale,” I whispered as the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. “Someone has been inside your rooms.”
“What? That’s impossible.”
But it wasn’t. Heart hammering, I dashed down the short hallway leading into his open bedchamber, and when I reached the bedroom and laid eyes on the floor, I gasped.
Broken glass glinted on the floor, shimmering in two pools of blood.