11. CHAPTER 11
Sorin
The moment I laid eyes on her I knew…I was fucked.
An unfamiliar feeling stirred deep in my chest as she watched me approach, her eyes locked onto me as I pretended to browse the market. I had sensed her presence the moment I entered the great hall.
She was beautiful in a way that no other woman in Gothryn was.
No other woman that I had ever seen in my one hundred and thirty-seven years in this realm could compare.
Ren had called her beauty unique, but that was an understatement.
One brown eye, one blue. The same eyes from the dream I had the night before.
How could that be?
She had gazed back at me from beneath fluttering lashes, ebony hair half bound in an elegant clip atop her head.
Her hair was streaked with deep mahogany winding throughout from time spent in the Myrosian sun.
Her unblemished skin was pale as milk. I ached to reach out and touch it, to see if it were as soft as it appeared.
An unfamiliar desire flooded my blood, and heat bloomed in my chest.
Was it simply a coincidence that I had dreamed of this woman the night before meeting her? Or was it something…more?
She was dressed as if she already were a princess of Myros, finery on full display. An elegant, beaded gown adorning her lithe, delicate figure. She was shorter than I had expected; the top of her head didn’t even reach my chin.
I had to remind myself she wasn’t fae. She was human.
A smattering of nearly invisible freckles dotted her cheeks and nose, an intoxicating blush painting her translucent skin.
I had barely spoken to her and yet she had somehow already burrowed beneath my skin.
I strode toward Ren’s quarters, trying my best—and failing—to press the thoughts of the human out of my mind.
She belonged to Kallias.
I needed to remember that she was merely a bargaining chip. A beautiful one at that, but nothing more. I inhaled deeply as I entered his rooms, slamming the door shut behind me.
“Sorin?” his voice called from the adjacent study.
I pressed my black tunic down to adjust it as I strode forward. He swiveled in his chair to gaze up at me, a scroll of parchment open on the desk beneath him. A quill was raised in his hand.
He smirked up at me, a knowing glint flashing in his eyes. “Unique beauty, yes?”
I narrowed my darkened gaze on him.
“You knew she was beautiful, didn’t you,” I accused. “Are you…punishing me?”
Ren shook his head. “No, Sorin. I am not punishing you. I simply think we stand to gain from using her against Myros. Against Kallias. Seeing if she truly is a spy, placed right beneath our noses by the royals.”
I raised a brow at him. “And if it turns out that she is?” I asked, crossing my arms over my broad chest.
Ren’s expression morphed now; the lines of his face growing taut. “Then we will deal with her the same way we deal with all traitors to our kingdom and to the realm.”
Death by dragon fire.
But she was so…so…human. So delicate. So fragile.
She posed no true risk to us other than the havoc she could wreak through surveillance and manipulation.
I threw myself down onto the chair beside his desk, concealing my wings entirely as not to crush them behind me as I leaned back.
I scrubbed a hand down my face, frustration simmering as if it were a hot coal in my core.
“What are you doing?” I asked, nodding toward the parchment laid out on the desk before him.
“Drafting a letter for you to send to Prince Kallias, of course. King Faris and Queen Dyata may know of her true location…but I highly doubt the princeling does. He would never agree to send her to a rival kingdom when he pushes so hard against his own betrothal to Lady Astryn.”
“And you know all this…” I trailed off, motioning with my hand for him to continue.
Ren sometimes forgot I had so much on my plate these days that I hardly had time to keep up with every tidbit of gossip and politics that circulated throughout the castle. It was important that he acted as my eyes and ears.
“Vash,” he replied simply.
“We haven’t heard from Vash in weeks—” I started, but Ren slid an opened letter toward me across the desk as he returned to the parchment before him.
“A missive came in this morning. He has gathered information for us from inside the castle in Myros. You were right…he has done well as our informant.”
My eyes danced back and forth as I quickly read the message.
Tensions between the pretty human and Queen Dyata had reached an all-time high.
Their relationship had always been tumultuous, but it continued to deteriorate the closer she and Kallias grew.
It wasn’t unlikely that she would do anything to be rid of her.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Perhaps it had been Queen Dyata who had sent her across the sea after all. Never to be seen or heard from again. Ren was right; there was no way the prince would have known about this and agreed.
The letter fell from my grip and fluttered to the floor as the door to Ren’s chambers burst open, startling me. My head snapped up as a commotion stirred in the entryway.
Ren’s face screwed up in agitation. “Does no one believe in knocking anymore?”
It was Emrys who had barged in, his hair windswept as if he had just returned from a flight. His brow was covered in sweat, his heart racing hard enough for the vein in his neck to pulse vigorously.
“Have you heard?” he asked, eyes darting back and forth between me and Ren.
“Sorry!” a small voice called from behind him, pushing him aside. “Sorry, I tried to stop him!”
It was Voirel, her copper hair spun into a nest at the back of her neck. She was flushed, as if she had been running after him through the corridor.
“Voirel…this is important,” Emrys insisted, whirling on my sister.
I stood from the armchair.
“What is this about?” My own gaze darted between the two of them.
Emrys might not be related to Voirel by blood, but he loved her as if she was his sister despite it. Voirel was half human, half fae. A halfling, like me. Though no royal blood pumped through her veins.
When our mother, Melantha, passed, I vowed to take Voirel under my wing and protect her. She lived at court so that I could keep a close eye on her. Despite having different fathers, Voirel was the most precious and dearest sibling I had.
She was…different from the others.
While she aged slowly as all Vireth fae do, she never fully developed mentally nor physically.
Her mind was that of a child. She was small for her age—though only fifteen years my junior.
Voirel’s condition was a mix of cognitive, magical, and physical disorders.
Her development slowed when her fae blood awakened, though it did not stop.
It was a stasis syndrome that, while rare, was known to particularly afflict halflings.
Another reason the Shadowed Order thought human blood was tainted.
Emrys had taken a liking to her and treated her as if she were his own blood. Valerian, too.
She needed all the protection she could get.
Voirel took in my expression, her mouth falling open. “I take it you haven’t heard, then—”
“Haven’t heard what?” I asked, crossing my arms.
I was barely taller than Emrys, but I sometimes had the urge to make myself even taller and formidable in his presence.
“Father is sending Voirel to Stormgaard…alone,” Emrys replied.
My head snapped back as if I had been struck. “He—what?”
Emrys nodded. “He’s decided to move against Myros. He doesn’t want her to be caught in the fray of whatever retaliation ensues. He won’t allow her anywhere near the castle…”
“Father is moving against Myros?” I asked, my face scrunched in confusion. “I just spoke with him this morning…there was no mention…we reached a truce—”
“He isn’t in his right mind, Sorin! You must speak with him.”
I nodded, exchanging a concerned glance with Rensford.
He had noticed it in recent weeks, too. The decline King Mavros was experiencing wasn’t purely physical.
He was deteriorating mentally more rapidly with each passing day.
I pondered whether Queen Odessa knew about this development, and why she hadn’t brought it to mine or Emrys’s attention.
“Where is Valerian?” I asked.
Voirel rolled her eyes. “Where else, Brother? Drowning in his cups. He is likely passed out in some tavern elsewhere. Nobody else needs to be bothered by this. I didn’t even want Emrys involving you.”
A pinprick of hurt bloomed in my chest. “Why not?”
Voirel’s face softened, her small hands releasing the fists she had balled at her sides. “Because I won’t be going. There is nothing he can do to keep me away. He isn’t my father.”
I sighed heavily, running a hand through my hair. An obsidian strand flopped over my forehead as I bent down to reach her level.
“I will speak with him. Not only are you not going anywhere, but we aren’t marching against Myros either.
It hasn’t even been a fortnight since he sent us to fly over Majur and scare them.
There has been no further provocation on their side.
We need to focus on strengthening our alliances, not waging war. ”
“Speaking of alliances…” Emrys’s mouth cracked into a full-on grin. “When does Princess Morwenna arrive from Ravenscar? I, for one, am excited to meet her.”
“That’s another thing!” Voirel huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I had to find out you were betrothed from him!” She jabbed a finger in Emrys’s direction.
I released an exhausted exhale as I caught Ren’s gaze again.
“Nothing is final yet. Until the papers are signed, our alliance with Ravenscar is treading on thin ice. We cannot afford to do anything that would put the alliance in jeopardy, especially in the wake of Sylvaris’s potential realignment with Myros.
“Marching against Myros would do just that,” Emrys replied with a nod.
“Exactly. I will speak with Father. Later. Please return Voirel to the gardens for her afternoon tea with Azhar?” I asked Emrys, though it wasn’t a request.
“Certainly, Your Highness. More pressing matters to attend to?” He mock-bowed, and it took everything in me not to knee him in the groin. Emrys was such a little shit.
I narrowed my eyes, a muscle ticking in my jaw as I turned and strode from the room without another word.
I didn’t owe Emrys an explanation of my whereabouts.
I would need Rensford with me when I went to speak with Father.
If there was anyone who could convince him he was being rash, it would be his firstborn son and the commander of his army.
I might even need Emrys at my side in order to call him off.
The last thing we needed right now was to have a mad king sit on the throne of Gothryn.
We needed to minimize the rumors of his illness as it was. Word of his decline had already spread to the adjoining kingdoms. It was only a matter of time until we could no longer deny it.
Even if it were true.
I would speak with Father later…
But first, there was someone I needed to see.