29. Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Twenty-Nine
T he great hall at the Wynterliff Manor is just as I remember it.
Gray-blue walls, so light they reflect sunlight nearly as well as steel metal. Long, arched windows line the far wall, filling the room with natural light though a pristine, shining steel chandelier waits to be used. A long, dignified white oak table sits in the room’s center with rounded chairs neatly pushed in. I don’t have to see the satin chair cushions to know they’re the same sky blue as House Wynterliff’s banners—the very same ones that hang from the ceiling in rows of two, above the table adorned with my family’s rigid, linear insignia .
The guards that led us inside gesture for us to sit, but none of us do. Seemingly unaware of the palpable tension in the room, one of the guards opens his mouth as if to voice the offer aloud. All it takes is one icy look from Savell to make him rethink that decision.
Wordlessly, the guards step back into the hallway, pulling the set of double doors closed when they do.
Wrapping her arms around herself, Kheldryn wanders by the windows, fern eyes staring through the glass with her brows furrowed. Gryska sways forward and backward, shifting the bulk of her weight from her heels to her toes. Sidestepping, Savell leans against the back wall, by the door, carefully surveying our surroundings. Seeming unsure of what to do with himself, Ronan looks around the room, lightly tapping his fingers against his thighs.
And though Ceren taught me to be firm in my stance, regardless of my emotions, even I fight the urge to fiddle with my leathers.
The only one who stands deathly still is Asheros. He stays close by my side, and though he’s not looking at me directly, I can feel his eyes on me.
“What?” I ask, without sparing him from my bluntness.
“You’re uncomfortable here,” he says, as if the words taste sour on his tongue.
I glance around the room. “I…”
“Even without the bond, I would know,” he says in my mind. “I know you.” Shifting closer to me, he touches his palm to the small of my back. “You can confide in me. Whenever you need to.”
Nodding, I offer him a small smile. “I know. Truly, I do.”
His brows stitch together. “Then what is it?”
I sigh, closing my eyes for a moment. “I thought it would be easier. Coming back here, I mean. I thought I would feel stronger, more sure of myself. But the moment we approached the city gates…” I swallow. “I felt like a younger version of myself—one that loathed herself because she couldn’t excel at anything.”
“Listen to me,” Asheros says aloud now, keeping his voice low enough for only me to hear. He cups my face with both hands. “I will forever despise your mother for making you believe that about yourself. And for every moment my heart beats, I will prove to you that you are the strongest, bravest, most capable individual I know.”
He searches my expression, the ferocity of his words brimming in his crystalline gaze. “You have worked so incredibly hard for everything you’ve achieved. Though it may have taken you longer, though you may have struggled more than your peers, you persevered. You overcame any struggle, any obstacle that stood in your way. There is so much to be said for that, Lymseia. Don’t ever let another person, even me, taint your view of your worth.”
His words strike a chord deep within me, reaching a wound that never fully closed. A wound that, finally, after all these years, has begun to heal .
Emotion rises in my throat, prickling at my eyes. I exhale through parted lips, blinking to keep my tears at bay. Gods, that came on awfully quickly.
But Asheros doesn’t make me feel lesser for it. Instead, his lips curve upward in an awe-filled expression. As if I continue to astound him, in the best of ways.
Gods above, I don’t know what I did to deserve this male, but I would do it all over again. No matter the pain or discomfort I’d have to endure.
Footsteps sound in the corridor, echoing on stone floors.
“It’s about damn time,” Ronan grunts.
Taking a deep breath, I clear my mind and hone my focus. If there’s one thing I’m not going to do when my mother arrives, it’s allow her to see how much of an effect she still has on me.
Ceren believed in me.
Asheros believes in me.
And damn it all, I’m going to believe in myself, too.
When the double doors open, revealing the face that looks so much like mine, I hold my head high.
The moment she steps into the room, my mother’s regal aura demands respect. That, and the four guards lined at her back. Her tan pointed face maintains an even, yet calm expression, gray eyes moving slowly to each of us. The smooth blue-black hair we share falls down her back though pieces of it have been pulled away from her face and secured to the back of her head, revealing the points of her ears. She holds her hands in front of her waist, her arms bent at an effortlessly elegant angle.
At her side is a face I’ve longed to see.
Though she stands with the grace of our mother, Vestella’s appearance takes after our father. She shares his ash brown hair, kind face, and cobalt eyes. Her hair’s been styled in the same way as my mother’s, though hers has more life to it.
When we lock eyes, it takes nearly all my strength to stop myself from crossing the room to hug her. My older sister doesn’t hold back, and despite my mother’s sideways glance, she throws her arms around me.
“Gods above, Lymseia,” she breathes into my shoulder. “It’s so good to see you. We’ve been so worried.”
Closing my eyes for my inhale, I give a closed mouth smile and return her embrace. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Stop that,” she says, her tone stern but warm. She angles her head back to look me in the eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Asheros’s voice comes as caress in my mind. “I like your sister already.”
I can’t help but chuckle. It hadn’t occurred to me that this would be Asheros’s first real encounter with my family. Of course, he’d met my mother and sister before, by the very nature of serving on the High King’s council alongside them, but outside of the council chamber, he likely hadn’t spoken with them. Much less get to know them. Until now, he probably never had a desire to .
“What is it?” Vestella asks. She cocks her head slightly and arches a brow like she’s done since we were children.
“Nothing,” I assure her. “It’s—it’s good to see you, Ves. Truly.”
And it is. The last time I saw Vestella and my mother was during the time leading up to High King Vorr’s death. When High Keep had been on lockdown. As members of the High King’s council, they’d been subject to that command, like everyone else. But, since I was captain at the time, most of my energy had been spent securing the castle and supervising the front gates.
Brushing my hair back, Vestella smiles warmly at me. “I’m glad.”
“Is Father here?” I ask.
“He’s in the library,” she replies, tucking loose strands of my hair behind my ear. “You know how little he cares for these formal sorts of appearances. I’m sure he can’t wait to see you.”
“I can’t wait to see him,” I say. As always, I fail to see the need for a formal appearance when it’s just me returning home. Still, while I haven’t seen Mother and Vestella in what feels like ages, it’s been even longer since I’ve seen my father. Probably before I’d became captain.
I’ve truly been a terrible daughter. But my duty had always taken precedence.
Now that I’m bonded with Asheros, will that still be true?
My mouth tightens, discomfort settling into my chest .
Being with him… It’s changing my perspective on things, shifting where my loyalties lie.
Everything is different now.
And perhaps it’s time my priorities changed, too. Though it goes against everything I’ve trained to be, maybe my duty shouldn’t come before the people I love.
Not anymore.
Because nothing matters without them.
Smoothing out her skirts, Mother clears her throat. Vestella and I both turn to her, still loosely held in each other’s arms.
“Welcome home, Lymseia,” my mother says, dipping her head the way she would greet a dignitary from another Court. Doing the same to Asheros, she adds, “And welcome to our home, Lord Larmanne. I do not believe we have had the privilege of hosting you before.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Asheros replies, his years of navigating political functions bleeding through his demeanor. “This is my first time visiting your beautiful home.”
Making no move to step away from me, Vestella bows her head to Asheros. “Then we’re honored to receive you, my lord.”
Asheros returns her gesture. “The honor is mine, Lady Wynterliff.”
“To what do we owe the visit?” Mother asks, narrowing her eyes. “To speak plainly, you must be aware of how your situation looks, my lord, arriving at my doorstep with my daughter, who has been missing for months.”
Months?
Has it truly been that long?
“I can assure you, my lady,” Asheros says coolly, polite display wavering. “No harm will ever come to your daughter as long as I live.”
My mother stares him down as if she’s trying to pick his words apart to evaluate their truthfulness, but Asheros holds his ground, diamond irises sharpened like knives.
“Very well,” she says at last, turning to me. “I assume the others with you are part of Lord Larmanne’s company?”
I nod. “They are.”
“Very good. If the rest of you would be so kind,” she says, her eyes sweeping the room while she waves a dainty hand, “I would like a moment alone with my daughters.”
Looking to Asheros, Savell and the others make no move to leave.
“Bladesinger?” Asheros asks.
“It’s all right,” I assure him. “They can go.”
His eyes meet mine, and then he dips his head to Savell. Quietly, he, Ronan, Kheldryn, and Gryska slip into the hall.
Mother’s glare is icy. “That includes you, Lord Larmanne.”
But Asheros’s feet remain firmly planted next to mine. “I’ll leave if my mate requests it. If she doesn’t, then I’m not going anywhere.”
My mother’s dark brows knit together. Her eyes flick between Asheros and me. “Your mate?”
“Yes.” He nods to her and then turns to face me. “My mate.”
Mother’s brows shoot up, breaking her well-trained mask. She looks at me, wide-eyed. “He is your… You have a mate?”
“Yes,” I say, shifting my weight so that I’m closer to Asheros. “I have a mate.”
Pure excitement draws a very unladylike squeal from Vestella. “Oh, gods, Lymseia, that’s wonderful! You must tell me everything!”
“Later,” Mother says, though the firmness in her tone doesn’t dampen Vestella’s joy. “First, we must discuss the more serious matters at hand.” Looking at me now, she angles her head back, a regal tilt to her chin. “Lymseia, if you would be so kind…”
Pressing my lips together, I place my hand on Asheros’s upper arm. “Go. I’ll find you after.”
His gaze finds mine, brows stitched together as though to ask if I’m sure.
“You’ll be all right on your own for ten minutes,” I quip with a smirk. “I promise.”
Tilting his head down, his lips spread into a toothy grin. Asheros nods. With a hand to the back of my head, he presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be nearby.”
Vestella gives him a little wave on his way out, and Mother’s eyes follow him until he steps into the hall.
“Tell me the truth, Lymseia,” Mother demands once we’re alone. “Has he hurt you?”
“No,” I shoot out. “No. He would never lay a hand on me. I assure you.”
“Where have you been all this time?” she asks, worry dripping from her words. “There has been no news of you. Every search party I have sent to find you returns with nothing.”
Warmth fills my chest, and suddenly, I feel like a child running off into the forest again.
Only, I’m no longer a child.
“For now, it’s best that I don’t give you the details,” I tell her as though I’m a soldier reporting to my superiors. “Asheros—Lord Larmanne—has been assisting me with a highly important investigation.”
Mother’s expression hardens. She doesn’t like my answer.
Luckily, Vestella saves me from having to justify my position. “Is there any way we can assist you? Is that why you’ve come now?”
“Yes, and no.” I rub my hands together. “We’ve come because we believe the male responsible for the death of High King Vorr is attempting to start a war among the Courts.” Turning to my mother, I say, “And after your formal renunciation of Steel’s alliance with Bronze, we believe you are his next target.”
“Of course.” Mother presses the tips of her fingers to her temple. “For centuries, we have always kept the balance between the Courts, especially with regards to the two major alliances. One between Gold and Silver, and the other—”
“Between Copper and Bronze,” I finish. “If something happened to you, then Vestella would become Head of House.”
“And if I ever thought that one of the Courts murdered our mother,” Vestella adds, “I would ensure Steel allied against them.”
“Right,” I say. “Not to mention how the people would react. Public opinion would demand you act.”
“Precisely,” Mother agrees, nodding. Taking a deep breath, she lowers her hand. “I take it you have a plan?”
“I do.” So easily, I slip into strategizing mode. “We’ll devise a trap, of sorts. Something that, at first glance, seems to be a golden opportunity to strike. Your guards will secure the perimeter, while Asheros uses his shadows to restrain him until the rest of us can secure him.”
“His shadows?” Mother asks, impressed. “Your mate is a shadow conjurer?”
“Yes,” I say, my chest puffing with pride. This is the first time someone’s ever referred to him as my mate, and gods, it feels good.
Mother crosses her arms, and somehow, she makes even that look elegant. “Perhaps he can teach you a thing or two about magic.”
I glower at her. “I have little need for parlor tricks.”
“Not all magic is for show, Lymseia,” she scolds. “The transformative qualities of steel metal are immensely—”
“I didn’t come here to be lectured, Mother,” I snap. “Are we done?”
Mother clamps her mouth shut, her gray eyes stormy. She exhales, turning her face from mine. “Yes. If you believe my life is in danger, then we must warn Lord Tarrantree that his may be at risk as well.”
“Lord Tarrantree?” I echo. Dread claws at my chest, silent like a betrayer. “Myrdin’s here? Now?”
“No,” my mother answers slowly. “His father, Tanyl, arrived just before you and Lord Larmanne.”
Tanyl is here?
Why would Tanyl have reason to come all this way from Redbourne? Copper and Bronze have been allies for centuries, and my mother formally denounced any sort of alliance with the Bronze Court.
Perhaps he’s come to negotiate on Viridian’s behalf in my absence?
That doesn’t make much sense. Before I left High Keep, Viridian appointed me as his diplomat because he trusts me. For that very reason, I don’t see why he would have sent Tanyl, and not Myrdin, who, aside from Cryssa and me, Viridian trusts above all else.
Unless he was left with no other option. Still, that thought doesn’t sit well with me.
Watching me, my mother’s eyes narrow. “What is it?”
I press my lips together, hardening my expression. “ Nothing. Warning Lord Tarrantree is wise.”
“Good,” Mother says, and the way she does makes me wonder if she says it merely for the sake of having the final word.
I have half a mind to let it be, but more serious thoughts come to mind.
“You should be aware there’s been crepulnai activity within your borders.”
Recalling my close encounter with one at Lyndhaven, my guilt rears its ugly head. I consider telling my mother we have reason to believe Copper may be involved, given the red eyes of Vorr’s murderer, but I think better of it. Until I have more information, it would be unwise to throw accusations around where my enemy may hear.
“Yes.” Mother’s words are clipped. Heavy. “I heard the news of Lyndhaven.”
“It’s horrible,” Vestella says, sorrow bleeding through her voice. “I can’t imagine how afraid the townspeople must have been.”
“It was even more horrible to have been there,” I say dryly, maintaining my composure.
Vestella’s face pales. “You were there?”
“Why did you not send for us?” Mother’s steely eyes strike me, as though I’ve done something wrong. “I could have sent reinforcements.”
“I’d rather not discuss it.” I spin around on my heels, making for the door.
“Lymseia,” Mother calls. “A moment, please.”
My hands clench into fists at my sides.
Flashing me a small smile, Vestella touches my shoulder. “I’ll tell Father you’ll be coming to see him.”
“Thank you.”
I wait for the door to close behind her, and then force myself to relax my hands. “Yes?”
Mother just looks at me for a moment, the corners of her mouth curved downward. “I am happy for you, you know. Having a mate is a wonderful gift.”
My expression softens, and I don’t need to see myself to know the hard lines at my jaw fade. I’d expected her to say something about my bond with Asheros providing us an opportunity to establish diplomatic ties with Silver, or something along those lines.
But she didn’t.
Moving a few steps closer to me, she cups my cheek with one hand, pressing her lips together in what can only be described as an attempt to smile.
Tenderness gathers in the back of my throat and fills my chest, prickling at my eyes.
She approves.
I take a deep breath, no doubt mirroring her expression. “It truly is.”