21. CHAPTER 21
Sorin
By the time I stalked into the palace in Gothryn, I was soaked from head to toe from the deluge of rain I had flown through.
I shook water droplets from my hair in the main hall, brushing the excess water from my tunic and wringing out my trousers as best I could.
I was certain I had at least an inch of water in my boots as I strode toward the throne room.
I had known it wouldn’t take long for my father to figure out I had left for Stormgaard, but I hadn’t expected him to call me back immediately. Valerian stood at the bottom of the staircase, leaning against the curved banister, an apple in his hand.
“Do I even ask?” He took a bite, his eyes scanning me from head to toe.
“No,” I replied, pressing past him toward the throne room.
I could feel his eyes on my back. I stormed down the corridor, striding through the immense obsidian doors as the guards pulled them open for me.
“Father, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner—” I began as I entered, my gaze downcast at my wet, squeaking boots.
When I raised my head to gaze upon him, I stopped mid-step.
King Mavros and Queen Odessa were seated atop their thrones, but they weren’t alone.
Emrys stood to their right, hands clasped behind his back and shoulders rigid.
He was in his official uniform, the black tunic pressed clean and the navy-blue accents along the collar glistening beneath the torch’s blazing light.
The silver crest of the dragon was clear where it was stitched against his breast. His stance was wide. Formal.
I cocked my head to the side in confusion.
I had clearly missed something in Ren’s memo to return home.
I realized that there were two Vireth standing before the throne.
I had initially missed their dark forms, my vision still blurred from the rain.
I stepped forward to allow my gaze to focus on them.
One was a tall man with severe features, his head shaved close to his scalp, as if he had begun to lose his hair and decided to be rid of it entirely.
This was far from the typical style of the Vireth.
Beside him was a woman equally tall, with features equally severe.
Her raven black hair fell to her waist, the top layer pulled tightly behind her head to showcase her sharply pointed ears.
She turned her gaze on me, and I met her glowing amethyst eyes with startling clarity.
I knew who she was.
The sigil of the moon goddess, Nytherion, was placed against her forehead in a silver glow, a smattering of pearl-colored stars surrounding it.
Morwenna, the Princess of Ravenscar.
That would make the man beside her Eldrin Grimlock, King of Ravenscar.
I swallowed hard, embarrassment flooding me.
Rensford had said they were travelling to Gothryn, not that they would arrive this very night.
I met my father’s shrewd gaze and could feel his disappointment rippling off him.
This was certainly not the first impression he wanted me to make on my betrothed, and the king with whom we were attempting to secure an alliance.
I cursed myself for not heading up to my rooms to change before seeking an audience with my father and the queen. I pressed a hand to my chest and bowed.
“My apologies, your highnesses. I just flew in from Stormgaard and I’m afraid I encountered a vicious storm along the way. My father had sent word for me, and I wanted to attend to him at once.”
King Eldrin laughed, turning toward me. “No need for apologies, my boy. We were expecting you.” He nodded toward the grand arched windows behind the throne. “We saw you flying in. Your dragon form is as formidable as your father’s.”
Even more so. The words remained unsaid between us, lingering in the air.
I bowed once more. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.”
He bowed in return. “You as well, Sorin of Blackwater.” He turned toward Morwenna, extending his hand toward her. “I would be honored to introduce you to my daughter, Morwenna of Ravenscar. Blessed by the goddess Nytherion.”
I wasn’t sure I had ever seen anyone blessed by the old gods with my own two eyes before. As the saying went…the age of the gods was long over. It had been centuries since they were last seen. They had abandoned us, leaving Aeloria and never looking back.
I took the princess’s extended hand and kissed the back of it politely.
Her skin was smooth and cold. She was beautiful, but there was something frigid about her countenance.
Her long, onyx hair fell straight to her waist. It was beautiful, but the way she wore it made her look severe.
She was tall and lithe, the perfect specimen of Vireth fae.
Her deep magenta gaze settled on me. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Sorin. You are not at all what I expected.”
I laughed, but it sounded forced even to my own ears. “You expected someone a little more…dry?”
She laughed in return.
King Mavros appeared happy enough.
I couldn’t help but compare the fae woman before me with Aveline.
They were alike in that they had hair the color of midnight, but that was where the similarities stopped.
Morwenna’s hair was jet black, where Aveline’s was highlighted with reddish-brown strands throughout.
Morwenna’s features were cold, her skin pale.
Aveline was pale as well, but her cheeks were round, the apples always flushed with a rose-colored tint.
Aveline’s ears were rounded, where Morwenna’s drew into a sharp point.
Aveline was short but with ample curves that only accentuated her frame.
Morwenna was taller, slimmer and sleeker.
She was fae, after all. She was to be my equal. To rule Gothryn at my side.
The thought sat in my stomach like a lead weight.
Queen Odessa spoke from the dais for the first time. “King Grimlock and Princess Morwenna will be staying the week, so that you two may become acquainted with one another.”
My stomach sank even further.
I couldn’t leave Aveline in Stormgaard for a week. I opened my mouth to protest as much when Emrys pinned me with a glare that told me to keep my mouth shut. For once, I heeded his advice, saving that argument for another time.
King Eldrin smiled up at Queen Odessa before turning his gaze on me. “It is our hope that by the end of the week we can secure the alliance and finalize all of the details.”
Did that mean…no.
It couldn’t be. It was too soon.
Did they expect me to wed Princess Morwenna by week’s end?
The throne room began to spin, and I couldn’t say with any certainty exactly why.
The pain in my side stung anew for the first time in days, and my hand immediately shot toward it.
Both pain and panic warred within me as Emrys’s gaze morphed from one of warning to one of concern.
He gave his head a finite shake. I allowed my hand to drop back to my side, though the stinging of the wound remained.
Had I overexerted myself on the flight back?
I would need to go to Azhar the moment I was dismissed. Could this be the lingering effects of the ixia poison I had ingested? It was true that I hadn’t needed to finish the whole goblet; my regular dose from Azhar was not nearly that much. But I had wanted to prove a point.
I swayed uneasily, stepping back to gain my footing. No one seemed to notice.
“If all goes well, we can host the wedding here next week before King Eldrin returns to Ravenscar. Morwenna will remain here, of course. With her husband,” King Mavros stated from the dais.
He looked entirely satisfied with himself, while I felt like I was going to be physically ill.
“What a grand idea!” King Eldrin replied, clapping his hands together and turning toward his daughter.
“It would be my honor, Father.” Morwenna bowed to him, but something about it was artificial. Forced.
It was all happening too quickly, and I had no idea how I was going to stop it.
I needed to send word to Rensford in Stormgaard right away.
This is not at all what I had expected when I had been summoned.
I had merely thought the princess would be traveling with her lady’s maids to meet me for the first time.
This was all too…formal.
Official.
The image of Aveline’s devastatingly beautiful face flitted behind my eyelids as they fell closed. Her warm cheeks. The feel of her skin beneath my touch. Her contrasting eyes, one blue and one brown.
My eyes snapped open once more, pleading gaze turning on Emrys.
I had to fix this.
I couldn’t marry Princess Morwenna by week’s end…not when I was hopelessly enamored with another. I wasn’t ready for such a commitment without more time to think. My thoughts were churning, head spinning with a million thoughts at once.
We were on the brink of war, and we desperately needed this alliance with Ravenscar before Myros had the opportunity to ally with Emberfell or Sylvaris and bolster their own forces.
We may not be truly immortal, but Vireth lived a long, long time.
I wasn’t ready to bind my life to Princess Morwenna’s for eternity.
Not yet.
I needed more time.
And I knew exactly how I was going to get it.