Chapter 23
Isca
I spent the hour before lunch peppering Catrin with a flurry of questions about Larethia. More than a servant, she was quickly becoming a confidante, someone I felt I could trust. I would miss her deeply when it came time to return home.
Home.
That word tasted bittersweet now. The thought that I might doom them if I failed hung over everything I did. Today was about salvaging Owain’s visit, smoothing things over just enough to avoid word from Chancellor Maeron that my family would suffer for my failures.
But the moment I approached the great hall, the weight of it all loosened, swept aside by the noise and amplified energy now occupying Tir Darreth’s great hall.
Warriors packed the long tables, the air thick with the scent of roast chicken and spiced vegetables, their laughter and boasts bouncing off the stone walls.
Owain’s guard had started challenging Emrys’s men to mock duels.
When I stepped through the doors, I felt every eye flick toward me. Their stares weren’t unfriendly; many smiled. Yet today, several senior guards silently communicated a warning of caution my way.
Concealing my apprehension behind a gentle smile, I walked across the hall toward my usual seat on the raised dais. Only one of the two throne-like seats held this kingdom’s prince.
Seated in Nisien’s place, Owain displayed the effortless poise of one comfortable with his authority, even if he clearly didn’t like sitting in Nisien’s place. He looked every inch the royal emissary, dressed in a deep green tunic worked with gold threading. A heavy gold torc adorned his throat.
Noticing my glance at his seat as I climbed the low steps, he offered a sheepish, apologetic shrug. “I was told that sitting with my men was unacceptable,” Owain said under his breath, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Beside him, Emrys said, without looking up, “A visiting prince must be seated according to his station.”
Owain only spread his hands as if to say, What choice did I have?
But Emrys’s body was as rigid as I’d ever seen it. His jaw was tense, and he was cutting the chicken on his plate like stabbing it was the only thing stopping him from stabbing someone else.
It pained me that he couldn’t escape the curse’s claws for longer than an hour or two.
I had hoped that their sparring would somehow mend the deep rift between them, in that peculiar way physical exertion sometimes did for men.
And it seemed it had, because I didn’t sense a lingering hostility from Owain toward Emrys, or even fear.
Though, understandably, an undercurrent of tension thrummed beneath Owain’s skin, as if he was ready to react to Emrys at a moment’s notice.
I shook my head, taking my seat in the crossfire of tension between them.
There was too much power, stuffed into too little space, and I was the soft thing caught squarely in the center.
Emrys’s condition was so bad that my slightest movement in his direction caused him to shrink back as if I would burn him if I got too close.
Still, I had to work. I allowed a few bites to pass in silence, chewing slowly as I gathered my thoughts. Elevated above the rows of warriors and retainers, we had space and privacy enough for quiet conversation.
I turned to Owain.
“Earlier, you mentioned military matters,” I prompted. “A prince personally taking care of this speaks of a dire situation to me. Is it so, Your Highness?”
Owain dabbed his mouth with a linen napkin before answering.
“Yes. Things are not well with us. Our mutual neighbor,” he glanced meaningfully toward the north, “has turned their attentions to our lands again. Raids. Skirmishes. Enough to keep our border lords on edge. We, I, thought it wise we coordinate.”
“Wise,” Emrys muttered. Given his current mood, I thought he was more likely to be mocking than agreeing.
“As far as we know, the border raids are carried out by civilians, but they’ve gotten worse,” Owain continued as if he hadn’t noticed the insult.
“Berian had entertained the idea of a marriage alliance with their princess before he married our queen. He’s never had a taste for war.
” He speared a bite of chicken. “Unlike me.”
Emrys lifted his gaze. “I thought the Gelidian princess was against taking a husband.”
“She is,” Owain replied, chuckling softly. “And I doubt she would’ve agreed to a mage, but Berian is…Berian.”
“Especially not a mage as weak as your brother.” Emrys leaned back slightly, a wicked smile curving his mouth. “You got all the magic in the family. He got all the good looks.”
The unexpected sharpness of the comment made me blink in surprise. I turned to Emrys, frowning, ready to smooth things over. “That’s hardly a fair thing to say.” I forced a smile at Owain to smooth the moment over.
Emrys’s expression didn’t soften. If anything, it turned colder. “Well,” he scoffed, eyes pointed in my direction, “that sounds more like diplomacy than good judgement on the lady’s behalf.”
It wasn’t just the words—it was the way he said them. Flat. Dismissive, each syllable a sting of pain and just impersonal enough to hurt more. Like I was no one of consequence at all.
I looked away, face heating. The smile I’d offered Owain faded.
I wasn’t made of stone. But apparently, I needed to be around him.
Maybe I’d misread everything. The softened glances, the brush of his hand on mine in the library, even the way his voice gentled when he said my name—maybe none of it had meant anything at all. Maybe everything I’d thought existed between us had been a fantasy I’d spun for myself.
I kept my hands neatly folded on the table, my face carefully composed, though inside, a slow, quiet ache bloomed in my chest that felt like a bruise spreading beneath my ribs.
So silly, so ridiculous.
It was the curse speaking. Nisien had said he couldn’t always control his tongue. It shouldn’t have mattered. But it did, because I’d interpreted his appearances over the past two days as a sign that things were improving between us.
Emrys glanced at me once, quickly, then looked away. There was no more anger, no coldness, only a profound sense of emptiness behind his expression now. Like he knew he’d gone too far but couldn’t say so. I felt for him then, even if he had hurt me. It seemed he hadn’t meant to.
With a practiced ease born of years of suppressing my own emotions around my mother, I forged ahead. Diplomacy… Diplomacy could mask my silly, hurt feelings. “Prince Owain, you mentioned coordination. How can Darreth help you strengthen the relationship between your countries?”
Owain gave me an approving look that healed a bit of the hurt wrapped around my heart. “Lady Isca, you are accord incarnate. Diplomacy is wasted on men like us,” he teased, the barb aimed at Emrys. “The realm needs women like you. Level heads in a sea of fools with swords.”
I inclined my head at the compliment.
But Owain kept going. “Not enough queens on our island. It’s unfortunate your sister Bronwyn is already married. Otherwise, I might’ve suggested my brother marry her instead.”
He winked at me, a sly glint in his eyes, while Emrys shot him a glare for mentioning his sister that could’ve curdled milk. He was the second person to mention Avanfell’s lack of true queens.
“I jest, Emrys,” Owain added belatedly, not seeming the least bit afraid. This prince of Larethia must either be very brave or far more powerful than he let on. Or both.
A sudden seriousness fell over Owain; his relaxed demeanor vanished, replaced by a grim, focused expression. “Our shared border needs men, Lady Isca, men with steel in hands to demonstrate our resolve with force.”
I looked to Emrys with a question in my eyes. He didn’t glance at me before saying, “Our unshared border with Gelida is far too porous already.”
My knowledge of the situation was limited, but I felt confident that sending a small contingent wouldn’t overextend Darreth’s resources. I don’t know what made me do it. Perhaps it was that I’d touched him earlier in the day when he’d been knocked down by Owain’s blow.
I gripped his arm gently as I asked, “But what of a small display of force, Prince Emrys? Perhaps moving conveniently placed men there?”
Emrys closed his eyes for long enough that I worried. His breath came out in a strangled wheeze that was so quiet I almost thought I hadn’t heard it. Had he been lying about his ribs not being damaged or was it something else?
A long, uncomfortable silence stretched between us before I realized my hand was still on his arm. I hastily removed it, realizing my faux pax too late. I’d grown too comfortable.
With my hand gone, Emrys finally answered Owain. “I can speak to men who have family on that border to see if they would be interested in making a show of their presence. Or perhaps we can send the contingent of mages the Assembly lent us their way for a time.”
Owain’s eyes shifted from me to Emrys then back to me. Surely, he knew enough about magic to sense that I hadn’t manipulated Emrys with my abilities. Still, there was a question in his eyes that I didn’t understand.
It didn’t matter because Owain smiled. “That is quite a concession, Emrys. One Larethia would be grateful for. I see many happy years of friendship between our kingdoms.”
I was thrilled.
But Emrys still scowled at Owain. Then he fixed a look on me that asked, Are you happy now?
Yes. Yes, I was. I could write to Chancellor Maeron that Darreth’s relationship with Larethia hadn’t turned to ashes in a pyre of Emrys’s magic. Maybe he’d leave my family unharmed for another two weeks—maybe.
Feeling triumphant, I leveled my own smirk back at Emrys. When his gaze smoldered again, I quickly turned away. Hot and cold, cold and hot, it was too much while my own feelings about him were still confused.
We finished lunch without incident. As Emrys spoke with a worried soldier, Owain discreetly signaled for me to join him.
“I have a cousin only three hours away on horseback who is expecting our group tonight. So I wondered if you would walk with me in the gardens? Our party will leave before dinner, so this may be our only chance.”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
Protecting my family had brought me to Tir Darreth, but I was beginning to see that I might protect far more than just them before my work here was done.
The thought proved more gratifying than expected.
I liked the idea of helping these people who’d welcomed me with open arms and treated me as one of their own.
When Owain offered me his arm, Emrys’s cold gaze pinned itself between my shoulder blades.
After what he’d said at lunch, I was only too happy to gain a bit of his disapproval. And, by the gods, the Assembly was parading me as a diplomat, I had to act like one. I wasn’t about to allow a grumpy head of state to stop me from ensuring the safety of two kingdoms.
My steps echoed beside Owain’s as we slipped out onto the garden paths, past stone archways and blooming flowers struggling toward the sun. The breeze was gentler here than outside the castle walls, and the sky stretched white and blue overhead.
We walked in silence for a while, the hush between us oddly companionable. His presence was different than Emrys’s. Less like wildfire ready to consume everything around it and more like smoldering embers that he kept tightly tempered by his iron will.
It was Owain who finally broke the quiet. “I hope I haven’t made things…difficult between you and your prince.”
I gave him a long look and then said, “He’s not my prince,” a bit too forcefully.
He arched a brow. “No?”
“No,” I said, too quickly, a little too firmly. The word tasted like denial. “I am not a citizen of Darreth.”
“I see.” His gaze turned forward again. Then, with a small smile, he added, “Still. I may have earned his wrath all the same. I’m used to being barely tolerated. But Prince Emrys glares at me like he thinks I might spirit you off and steal his kingdom in the process.”
I looked down at the path. “He’s…complicated.”
“That I’ve gathered.” Owain chuckled. “Far more complicated than when we were children together. I have only pleasant memories of the time I spent with him and Nisien.”
We turned down a quieter path, away from the guards and servants, where ivy reached high up ancient stone and the garden wall cut the wind. In the stillness, his voice gentled further.
“I meant what I said last night,” he said. “About you being distracting. I didn’t mean it as a flirtation. Well, not entirely. It was the truth. You’re different.”
I studied him. “Different how?”
“You’re not trying to impress anyone. But somehow, you still manage to.” He paused, as if to weigh his next words. “It’s rare in courts like ours. For people like us.”
Once more, the quiet, piercing honesty I’d begun to associate with him appeared. I hated how much I wanted to believe him. Yet he was also not-so-subtly hinting that he knew my secret.
“The assumption you’ve been kind enough not to say aloud is true.” I offered him a tight-lipped smile, a bittersweet expression that betrayed my true feelings. “I’m not a high mage. My family has no name and no fortune. The Assembly sent me here because they didn’t want to risk someone valuable.”
“They were wrong,” he said softly. “Has Emrys destroyed anything since you stepped foot in the castle? No?”
That startled a real laugh out of me. “No. Not even threatened to today, I think.”
Owain grinned, pleased. “Then I stand by my assessment. You’re valuable. Even if the Assembly is too blind to see it.” His voice dropped into sincerity. “If you ever grow tired of being stared at like you’re dangerous…you’d be welcome in Tir Larethia.”
He’d offered it as a simple kindness, devoid of flirtation or manipulation. It thawed a part of me I hadn’t realized had been frozen since lunch. It was also an offer I couldn’t ignore, since I had no idea how things would progress after Nisien returned.
And yet my foolish heart was already wrapping too tightly around Darreth and all its thorns.
Finally, softly, I said, “Thank you, Prince Owain. Truly.”
“You may call me Owain, Lady Isca.” He smiled. “I won’t be dropping your title, however. For one with as much grace as you’ve shown—I refuse. You may have saved many lives today by convincing Emrys to send men to our border. Thank you.”
He bowed then gave a half-smile that didn’t feel princely at all. It was undeniably sincere. Unless I was truly off my mark in reading people, this man could be trusted with my life. That was an incredibly rare thing.
Owain offered his arm again.
Two princes calling me graceful. What a thing to happen to a girl like me.
We strolled back to the hall in easy silence. Owain, a chance encounter, a prince of a great kingdom, had offered me the quiet gift of his friendship.
If only things were that simple with Emrys.