Chapter 34 – Neve
Chapter 34
NEVE
F or the fifth time, I reread the opening line of the chapter before sighing, closing the book, and setting it in my lap.
When I was a slave, reading was always my escape; the only thing I did for myself that I loved. But since I’d come to the Winter Court, reading hadn’t been able to occupy my mind.
Next to me, Vale shifted, deep in slumber. Though I still found it uncomfortable being next to him, asking to sleep in another room would be unwise. Gossip about the newlyweds’ bedroom arrangements would spread around the court like wildfire. Additionally, not sleeping in the suite would leave me less protected.
Thankfully, Vale was a prince of honor, and since I’d distanced myself, he hadn’t tried to initiate anything. When it was time to sleep, he merely slipped into the bed, his back to me, and fell asleep.
A murmur interrupted my inner turmoil, and a scowl formed on Vale’s handsome face. I reached for him, stopping right before my hand landed on his head.
My instinct was to soothe him, to stroke his long black hair and whisper that it would all be fine.
A lie, but sometimes we did that for those we cared for.
My heart clenched. How could the Fates be so cruel? They’d twisted me together with Vale, ensured our paths intertwined, and bound us with an attraction unlike any I’d felt with another. Only after we’d allowed ourselves to act on that attraction and be vulnerable with one another, had they revealed the truth.
Worse, I couldn’t tell Vale why I’d backed off. Why I’d gone from seducing him to a fae made of ice.
I hated myself. I almost wished I’d never learned the truth because at least while I was still with him, I could be happy.
Twisting, I gazed upon him. Would he be able to stay silent when he next saw Rhistel? Too much was on the line for Vale not to. Especially if Rhistel used his powers on his brother and saw that Filip and I knew of his magic.
Would Rhistel do such a thing? I wasn’t sure exactly what happened when Rhistel first tested his magic on Vale all those turns ago. What had he made Vale do? Say? See?
My stomach twisted. I needed to distract myself once more. I lifted the book again, my fingers caressing the worn edges, only to catch on where the binding gaped.
I sucked in a breath, my gaze catching on the gap. This was Brogan Lisika’s book and with everything that had been happening, I’d forgotten that I found one of Brogan's notes to Roar .
Perhaps some fae would have hesitated at reading the private note from brother to brother. I was not among them. Roar gave me the book. Roar betrayed me. I no longer held any responsibility or affection toward him.
At the very least, getting it out of where Brogan hid it so well would keep me occupied.
I worked the edge of the paper glued to the binding. As it was an older book and already partially gaped open when I tossed the book across the room in anger, that part was easy. Bit by bit, the paper lifted.
When enough of the paper separated from the binding for me to peek inside and find a small, folded note, I turned the book upside down and shook the note out. It dropped onto my lap. Folded up, the creases were white, the missive clean. Two decades old, Brogan's hiding spot kept it free of dirt.
Mindful of the note’s age, I opened it with careful fingers, and, despite everything that was weighing me down, I smiled.
Brogan had been around ten turns when he died, so this note was from a child, and it showed. The handwriting was trying so hard to be fluid and neat but missed the mark. I knew almost nothing of Roar’s brother, but by glancing at the page, I recognized a lord in training.
Setting the book on the side table, I gave the note my full attention.
Little brother,
I hope that when you finally find this, you’re feeling better because I want to visit the mines when I get back. Mother won’t let you go if you’re still ill, though, so do hurry and get well.
I’m already dreading the journey. Mother and Father and me in a sleigh for weeks! My ears will bleed with Father’s jokes.
Actually, now I wonder, did you get sick on purpose? Perhaps I should sneak into your room and join you.
I shook my head and held in a laugh. Yes, a youngling wrote this. One on the cusp of entering his preteens when fae, much like humans, became far more moody, dramatic, and unreasonable. At least that was what Yvette told me when I’d been around the same age.
As much as I am tempted, you know I won’t. Mother would be furious. Besides, healers have been sleeping at your bedside day and night. They’re as obsessed with you as they are with that baby. Did you know that Father says that I’m to marry a Balik female and you get the baby! Apparently, she is from an important family, but it does make me laugh. Imagine, you wedding a baby! Then again, you are quite short. I think that makes you a perfect match!
Too bad she has that hideous scar by her eye. Mother doesn’t think it will go away. She’s too young, she says.
House Balik has a mage in their castle. I’ll ask about baby scars when I’m there. You’ll owe me if I can save your baby wife from being scarred for life!
I sat up straighter, my hand drifting to the crescent scar over my right temple as what Emilia had said came rushing back. When I’d escaped from the castle as a babe, my parents wanted me to go west and sent my sister to the east.
Guldtown was about as far west as one could go in Winter’s Realm.
I bore a scar by my eye, and yes, I’d been born into an important family. Despite me being but two turns when the rebellion ended, the late Lord Lisika would have met the royal children. Had he recognized me? Or perhaps the maid tasked with protecting me had told them?
Emilia had said that my family tried to send me to a noble house that remained loyal to the crown. There, I’d have been safe. That couldn’t have been House Lisika. In the White Bear’s Rebellion, the house of the snow leopard fought beside Magnus Aaberg.
I swallowed. Those answers may never come, but another epiphany hit, washing them from my mind.
The day Frode threw me at Roar’s feet, he’d fixated on my eyes and my scar. He’d said that all fae acquired scars as they aged, and if we were worthy, they told a story.
My skin crawled. Did Roar recognize the scar? Had he put two and two together that I was the baby who had, somehow, ended up in his family’s castle? His father told Brogan that I was from an important house.
On the day we’d met, Roar had been quick to take me in, to want to help a bedraggled female. At the time, he’d given a good enough reason for me to see the value in partnering with me. Now I wondered how likely it was that he suspected who I was .
Roar had been very insistent in his pursuit of me. Had he known, or at least strongly suspected, that I was a missing princess?
At that, I paused. Missing . . .
I’d been told that the Falk line went extinct. Not that the princesses were missing .
And yet, Prince Calder rotted in the dungeons . . .
A slow, horrible idea dawned on me. Had my family used decoys to trick the White Bear’s Rebellion into thinking they’d killed off me and my sister? My guts twisted.
Stars, the idea was too awful to imagine. A part of me wished to disappear into the hidden palace right then, to find the human and ask, but at the late hour, she probably wasn’t there. Plus, there was more to the note.
One part of the trip I am looking forward to, though, is playing with the Scepter. Father says we can’t talk about it, but that when it’s the three of us in the sleigh, I can touch it. Imagine, Roar! What if I cause a snowstorm?
I sucked in a breath. A scepter that could cause a snowstorm. If Brogan Lisika wasn’t bragging about playing with the Ice Scepter, then I was a troll.
I continued on, but the rest of the letter proved fruitless, just brotherly teasing and musings about whether Brogan's potential wife would be more attractive than the scarred baby.
Once I reached the end of the page, I exhaled. This note, the one correspondence that Roar never found, told two of House Lisika’s secrets. One: that I, a Falk princess, had likely been taken there at some point, and two: that many turns ago, the Lisikas possessed the Ice Scepter.
They’d lost me. Despite my value as an eventual bride to one of their sons and a bargaining chip, somehow I’d ended up a slave in the Vampire Kingdom.
That begged the question. Had they also lost the Ice Scepter?
Only one way to know.
Confronting Roar after I left Avaldenn had been high on my list of things I needed to do. Now? A trip to the west was inevitable because Warden Roar Lisika owed me, and the realm, answers.