14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
A sheros dips his head in acknowledgement and then closes his eyes.
I wait a moment, staring at my reflection in the mirror when a ripple rolls beneath the glass. It spreads as if I’m looking into the ocean instead of a mirror. More ripples form, filling the entirety of the frame and emitting a faint, white glow.
Not even a moment after, the ripples give way to a clear picture. Viridian’s face materializes in the mirror. Whatever he’s looking at seems to be below him, his chin and torso taking up the majority of the image before us. He moves his arms, something shiny temporarily obstructing my view of his face.
Then he raises a fork to his mouth, chewing slowly, as if he is deep in thought.
He’s eating ?
I can’t help but snort. “Am I interrupting your breakfast?”
Viridian’s eyes widen in surprise and then narrow. He cranes his neck down to look at what I can only assume is his plate, scrutinizing me. All at once, the tension falls from his face, replaced with pure astonishment.
“Lymseia?” He shakes his head a little, as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
I flash him a smirk. “The one and only.”
“Leave us,” Viridian says to someone nearby. He looks up at something— or someone —beside him and then the plate gets abruptly tugged in that direction.
“Lymseia!”
I smile and bow my head to my High Queen. “Cryssa. It’s good to see you.”
“You, too.” Cryssa returns my expression, and then laughs, scrunching her brows. “Even if it’s only through my husband’s breakfast plate.”
“We needed something silver to reach you,” I explain with a shrug. “It would seem that his plate was the closest thing.”
That has Viridian frowning. “We?” A deeper crease forms between his brows. “Who’s there with you? Where are you? ”
Still holding the mirror in front of me, Asheros swallows. A glimmer of worry crosses his face.
Is he afraid I’ll expose him and his role in my failure to arrive at Illnamoor as expected?
I would be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. But I thought better of it. As of this moment, there’s too much at stake to tell Cryssa and Viridian anything about what’s happened in the time I’ve been away from High Keep.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
Instead, I press my lips together. “You and I both know I shouldn’t answer those questions.”
Asheros visibly relaxes.
In the mirror, Viridian leans his head back, briefly closing his eyes. “Of course. Of the two of us, Cryssa is the only one who can lie.”
Unlike humans, or demi-fae like Cryssa, pure fae can’t lie. We’re physically unable to. Whether that’s by some magical force or the gods themselves, I don’t know. Still, even though we can’t lie, most fae are able to twist or bend the truth to their advantage. But when asked a direct question, we have two options—tell the truth, or say nothing.
Either way, it’s a dead give-away.
“Right.” I nod. “For now, it’s best you don’t know where I am. Or who I’m with.” I flick my eyes between Viridian and Cryssa. Neither look happy with that, but it’s for their own good. “I promise, I’ll tell you everything as soon as I can.”
“Very well,” Viridian grumbles .
At the same time, Cryssa says, somewhat menacingly, “You’d better.”
“As you command, Your Majesties,” I say lightly, before taking a breath. “What I can tell you is that I’m all right.”
“We’re glad to hear that,” Viridian says. His expression is tense, like that of a worried parent.
“But you didn’t conjure us just to tell us that you’re all right,” Cryssa adds, mouth tight.
“No,” I breathe, taking a moment to gather my thoughts. “How much do you know about…” I pause, unsure of how to broach the subject.
“The Gold Court’s claims against me?” Viridian interjects.
“Yes,” I say.
“Probably as much as you do,” Viridian starts. Anger swirls in his amber eyes. “We know that Maelyrra has been making diplomatic visits to the other Courts, claiming that I’m not my father’s legitimate heir.”
“That bitch is going to get what’s coming to her.” I clench my jaw, my own anger rising to the surface again. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“It’s all right, Lymseia,” Viridian assures me, taking a deep breath. “Maelyrra Pelleveron may be the least of our problems.”
My stomach falls. “What’s happened?”
Cryssa turns to Viridian and takes his hand before turning back to me. “Your mother is blaming the crown for your disappearance. If you’re not found and safely escorted to Illnamoor soon—” She pauses, pressing her lips together. “She’ll ally with the Gold Court against us.”
“You can’t be serious,” I shoot out.
Holding the mirror before me, Asheros stiffens, hanging his head slightly. Though his chin falls behind the rim of the mirror between us, the rest of his face is still visible above it.
“We are, Lymseia,” Viridian says slowly. His mouth parts for a long sigh, one that seems to weigh heavily on him. “Kylantha has threatened to support Maelyrra’s call for us to abdicate.”
“What?” My body goes rigid. Like the other Steel Court Heads of House that came before her, Mother’s never been one to make a strong political stance, not when it could potentially mean war between the five Courts. I’d always thought she’d favored Vestella over me. Vestella is her heir-apparent, after all. I’m the second-born. A warrior. No one of political consequence.
Or so I thought.
“This has Maelyrra written all over it.” I shake my head, eyes locking with Asheros’s. A knowing look passes between us, and I redirect my attention back to Cryssa and Viridian’s faces within the mirror. “My mother can’t… She wouldn’t do that.”
“Maybe, but… She loves you, Lymseia,” Cryssa tells me, her voice soft. “Of course she’d do anything to get you back.”
Worry, fear, and surprise wrap around each other inside me, binding me from the inside out. My words become lodged in my throat, and my stomach constricts, abdominal muscles wound tight.
“No matter,” Viridian says, leveling his tone. “You needn’t worry yourself. We have the situation under control.”
I know what he leaves unsaid. They have the situation under control.
For now.
But for how much longer?
“I trust you have more to tell us?” Viridian asks when I don’t respond.
“Yes.” I swallow, nodding. “We— I —have good reason to believe your father’s murderer is the one to blame for all of this. The claims against your rule, the tensions between the Courts, shifting alliances, all of it. Someone is dangling information in front of the right people and encouraging them to act on it.”
I know what I’m saying sounds ridiculous. I know it seems far-fetched to think that one person, whoever they are, has so much sway over important political figures as to turn them against each other.
But I can’t ignore the feeling in my gut that’s telling me I’m right.
Ceren’s teaching echoes in my mind.
Trust your instincts, Lymseia. If your intuition is telling you something is true, believe it.
My intuition is also telling me Vorr’s murderer is manipulating the Heads of House. My instincts never led me astray before, and there’s no reason to believe they’re leading me astray now.
“You don’t think Vorr’s murder was because of the human’s riots? You think whoever killed him is trying to divide the kingdom?” Cryssa asks, face drained of color. “Why?”
I sigh, heaviness weighing down my shoulders. “I don’t know yet,” I admit. “But I do know that finding your father’s killer is the key to restoring peace in our realm.”
Cryssa and Viridian go silent, seeming as if they’ve withdrawn deeper into themselves. I hold my breath, waiting for their reactions.
Viridian clears his throat. I brace myself for a fight, for the command I stand down and leave the politics to them.
But he doesn’t.
“I take it you’re set on finding my father’s killer, then,” he says at last.
“Yes.” My voice is firm.
Slowly, he nods his head. “Very well. What do you need from us?”
I exhale in relief. “To keep this secret. Don’t tell anyone we’ve spoken. I had to warn you, but as far as anyone else knows, I haven’t resurfaced yet.”
“No one?” Cryssa echoes, brows raised.
“No one. Not my mother. Not even Myrdin.” I know the Copper Court heir-apparent will be furious with me when he finds out I’ve kept him in the dark all this time, but I’ll make it up to him when this is all over. Until Vorr’s killer, the mastermind behind this kingdom’s ruin, is found, I can’t risk endangering him. Once I get deeper into this mystery, I’ll likely have a target on my back. If I confide in Myrdin, he will, too.
“Very well,” Viridian says, his voice low. “No one will know about this meeting. You have my word.”
“And mine,” Cryssa adds, sharing her mate’s solemn expression.
“Thank you,” I tell them. And I mean it.
“If you’re looking for my father’s killer, then you should know there is one witness. Her name is Arella Kellener,” Viridian says, seamlessly shifting from Viridian my friend, to Viridian the High King. “After Sura questioned her, she decided she no longer wished to serve the crown. As fate would have it, she’s native to the Steel Court.”
My heart lightens when I hear Sura’s name. Sura Vilsdottyr was my highest-ranking lieutenant when I was Captain, but also a trusted friend. As the new Captain of the High King’s Guard, I know Sura would have conducted a thorough interview of Arella Kellener.
“Where in the Steel Court?” I ask. My first step toward finding Vorr’s killer is finding Arella Kellner and speaking with her myself.
“She was born in Esvelon,” Cryssa tells me. “But that’s all we know.”
Asheros motions his head with an expression that says, “ I’m on it .”
I nod. “Then I’ll start there.” Hopefully, Arella went back to her place of birth after leaving Keuron. If not, then at the very least we may be able to learn something that will help us find her.
Viridian offers me a weak smile. “Good luck, Lymseia. Be safe.”
“Don’t look so sad,” I say, attempting to lift his spirits. And my own, while I’m at it. “I’ll be back at High Keep to annoy you soon enough.”
As if for their mutual comfort, Viridian pulls Cryssa closer. “I’m counting on it.”
“If you get yourself killed, I’ll come and kick your ass,” Cryssa adds, resting her head on Viridian’s shoulder. Her tone is humorous, but I can see the worry knitting her brows.
I smirk, though the expression— and my voice —lack my usual bravado. “I’d expect nothing less from my High Queen.”
Like water that’s been disrupted, Cryssa and Viridian’s image wavers before it fades away completely.
I’m left staring at myself in the mirror Asheros lowers. He hands it back to Savell, who was waiting with his hand outstretched. He gives me a sideways look before leaving the sitting room, mirror in hand, to make his way upstairs.
“So,” Asheros announces, turning to me. “We best enjoy our time here before we leave for Esvelon.”
“Well,” Orim sighs from the hall. “Then it’s a good thing breakfast is ready.”
A fter another wonderful meal crafted by Orim, Asheros, the others, and I gather in the sitting room.
Kheldryn has reclaimed her seat from earlier, lounging in one of the armchairs with her legs draped over the side. Gryska stands some distance behind her, leaning up against the wall by the fireplace with her arms crossed. Orim’s taken the other armchair, resting against the plush material, while Savell and Ronan assemble behind him, about a shoulder-length apart. Asheros and I take our places between the armchairs, opposite the fireplace, completing the semi-circle.
Though I press them to my body, my arms hang straight at my side. Asheros stands more casually, with one hand in his pocket.
“What reason do we have to travel to Esvelon?” Savell asks, looking at Asheros. “Our goal is within reach.”
“The goal remains the same,” Asheros says coolly, eyes sweeping the room. “What’s changing is merely the way in which we achieve that goal.”
“You want to prevent a war, correct?” I ask, demanding Savell’s attention. “You want to end the bloodshed before it begins?”
Tensing his jaw, Savell nods.
“I want the same thing,” I tell him, letting my resolve seep through my words. “Should war break out, the people I care about are at risk. I will do anything to protect them.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Savell says. “That you’ll betray us to protect them.”
Kheldryn clears her throat. “She won’t.”
Savell turns to her, brows raised. “How can you be sure?”
She meets my eyes, before flicking her gaze back to Savell. “Because I think she cares for one of us.”
Savell’s eyes widen. The tension falls from his jaw. He turns his attention to me and then Asheros.
“Regardless,” I interject, my cheeks hot, “our goals are aligned, Savell. I have no other support. It would go against my better interest to betray my allies.”
“She makes a good point,” Ronan adds.
“If she betrays us,” Gryska quips, balling her hand into a fist, “she’ll be sorry.”
Orim gives me a warm smile. “I think we can trust her.”
I flash him a smile in return.
Savell groans. “I don’t know. But it’s not my decision,” he says to Asheros. “It’s yours.”
“And I’ve already decided,” Asheros says, an air of authority washing over him. “We’re going to Esvelon, and we’re going to crush this war at its heart before it even has a chance to begin.”
Turning to him, I nod. His gaze meets mine, and I hold his stare, hoping that in my eyes he can see my gratitude.
Something tells me that he does, because he reaches out to me with his free hand and places a palm to my shoulder .
“Well,” Savell groans, “it would have been nice to have more time in the comforts of civilization before leaving again.”
“You can rest in all the comfort you want when this is over,” Kheldryn says, rising to her feet. Poking his chest when she passes by, she teases, “Maybe by then, you’ll have less to complain about.”
Savell rolls his eyes. “I don’t complain.”
Kheldryn laughs and makes her way out of the sitting room with Gryska not too far behind her.
Placing a hand to his stomach, Ronan lets out a belly laugh. Savell lightly punches his shoulder, his frown giving way to a grin. Orim stands and shakes his head, amused.
The three of them follow Kheldryn and Gryska out into the foyer and then disperse to other parts of the manor, no doubt to begin preparations for our journey.
Silence falls around Asheros and I. Orienting himself toward me, his eyes narrow, as if he’s deep in thought. “Why didn’t you tell Viridian the truth?”
His question catches me by surprise, and I’m not quick enough to mask the shock widening my eyes. I make a face at him. “I did tell him the truth.”
He clicks his tongue, making a tsk-tsk-tsk sound. “Not the whole truth, Bladesinger.”
“So what if I didn’t?” I ask, my voice ripe with the sudden need to defend myself. “What is it to you?”
“You could have told him where you were. About what happened to you. My role and that of the others in causing your disappearance. But you didn’t.” He turns to me, crystalline irises bearing into my own, fierce and scorching despite their pale color. “I want to know why.”
“You would have been arrested for treason if I had,” I say, furrowing my brow. “More often than not, the penalty is death.”
“Why should you care if I’m arrested?” He doesn’t move, though it seems as if some unseen force has been drawing our bodies closer. “I thought you couldn’t be bothered to worry about me.”
“You’d be correct in thinking that,” I say, keeping my tone even. “Whether I like it or not, I need your help to find Vorr’s killer. That’s it.”
“That’s not the real reason. You and I both know it,” Asheros says, shaking his head. “You’re perfectly capable of tracking down the murderer on your own. And with a squadron of the High King’s Guard to command, even more so.”
There’s a part of me just beneath the surface that knows the truth but is too afraid to admit it. Both to him and to myself. Some deluded part of me that hopes the longer I deny it, the greater the chance that, maybe, it will fade.
The truth is, I didn’t tell Viridian about Asheros’s involvement in my disappearance because I have feelings for him. Growing feelings I cannot seem to stifle, or ignore, no matter how much I try.
And gods-damn me, I do try .
“Well, I don’t command the Guard anymore,” I say, letting my bitterness get the better of me. “So I’m stuck with you instead.” Placing my hands on my hips, I let out a huff. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
He grins, revealing his white teeth and subtly pointed fae canines, and I can’t help but imagine what it would feel like if he nipped at my skin with those teeth.
It sends a shiver of sudden craving down to my core.
“Not the words I’d imagined, but yes, Bladesinger, it is.” He leans forward, that perfect smile captivating me. “You actually like me.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head, or I’ll dislike you again.”
He laughs, and I notice that he’s looking at me differently. He watches me as if I’m a unique jewel, or a breathtaking mountain view. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
I wonder if maybe, just maybe, he feels the same for me as I do for him.
Something Kheldryn said lingers at the forefront of my mind, reminding me of a possibility that I haven’t dared to let myself consider just yet.
“Have you ever wondered that, maybe in marking you two as fated, the gods weren’t telling you that he’s your enemy, but rather, that you and he would become something so much more?”
For a moment, I let my sense of duty fall to the side, let everything that guides me go silent. If there was nothing external to consider, nothing to take into account other than myself and the way I feel, then maybe , just maybe, I would want Asheros.
Reality sinks into my stomach, bringing me back to earth.
I do have duties and responsibilities and people that are depending on me. I can’t let them fall to the wayside at the whim of my emotions— my feelings —for Asheros, whatever they may be.
Instead of banishing the thought or acknowledging my developing feelings for him, I merely push them to the side. They cannot interfere with my duty, though I may wish for them to.
“What is it?” Asheros asks, taking a step closer to me. He raises his hands as if to take mine in his. “What are you thinking with that beautiful mind of yours?”
“Nothing you need concern yourself with,” I tell him, my voice soft. It’s the closest thing to a lie that I can muster. “We should prepare for our departure.”
He nods, crystalline eyes still searching my own like he is trying to look into my mind himself.
Forcing myself to take a step back, I turn around and make my way upstairs.