Chapter 15
Westley watched the females cling to each other. The emotion on Solveig’s face held him captive as her confusion turned to complete and utter joy. He could feel it in his soul and never wanted another day to go by without Solveig experiencing that much happiness.
The guards were still surrounding him and Noren, now unarmed save for the dagger Solveig had let him keep. His skin still tingled from her touch but he tried not to think about it. Instead, he focused on the females who were getting to their feet.
Solveig gripped Gerrie’s forearms, amazement on her features. Gerrie gave her a funny look.
“I’m glad to see you too, Sol, but it’s only been a few months.” Gerrie laughed as Solveig pulled her into another hug.
“What happened to you, Gerrie? Where did you go? When did you get back?” Solveig’s questions tumbled out without giving Gerrie a moment to answer. Her shieldmaiden appeared confused.
“What do you mean? I’ve been here since I left the Southern Wilds.”
It was Solveig’s turn to be confused. “But the letter said you were gone,” she explained.
“What letter?” A regal voice, hard like palace stone, came from the top of the solid quartzite stairs to their right.
Everyone in the courtyard, including Solveig, immediately lowered to one knee, their right fists crossed over their chests to greet the Queens of Asgard.
It was Queen Aelfsi who’d spoken.
She stood tall, the tip of a Fae ear distinct against the shaved side of her head.
Her ear was covered in silver jewellery, the cold metal complementing the queen’s sun-kissed skin.
Long black hair hung to the side in loose flowing waves that cascaded down her chest, one silver streak weaving through the dark tresses, matching the silver crown atop her head.
Westley would’ve thought her gown had a high neckline had he not seen her before. As the queen stepped forward, the light revealed tattoos that covered her arms and shoulders up to her neck, bleeding into the black silk gown that fell over her body like a waterfall.
Ink and fabric swirled together, creating the illusion of a more modest dress.
Fear struck his heart as Queen Aelfsi turned her violet stare on him. She was ethereal, moving like a cloud of smoke as it drifted from a dying fire.
Aelfsi’s arm was linked with Queen Koa’s as the mates descended the stairs. Now that he knew she was Solveig’s half-sister, Westley looked for similarities. But the only resemblance he found was the guarded expression she wore, which did not quite conceal the curiosity in her eyes.
Pale blue irises danced like the wind, playful and knowing, stealing secrets from the breaths of those around her.
She did not have Solveig’s copper hair but long blond curls that swept away from her face, coiling like snakes behind her back. Her white dress with gold stitching billowed behind her when they reached the base of the staircase.
Her features were all soft angles—even the light lines that marked her face with age were delicate, barely there. The points of her golden crown absorbed the light of the sun, casting her in a golden glow.
She, too, fixed Westley with an intense stare.
Where Aelfsi was dark smoke, Koa was the light breeze of a summer day. His mood lightened as she approached, but her golden brows, which held Solveig’s disdain, furrowed like she found him lacking.
His stomach plummeted under the weight of her disapproval. Aelfsi laid a hand on top of the one Koa had wrapped around her arm as they shifted their attention to Solveig.
Solveig rose to greet her queens—her mothers—and the three females embraced. Koa lifted a pale hand to cup Solveig’s face and brought her forehead to meet her sister’s.
“It has been too long.” Westley’s Fae hearing detected Aelfsi’s whisper.
“Now,” Koa said as she released Solveig and the queens stepped back to take in their party, “what is this letter you speak of, and what has brought you here?”
Solveig was slow with her explanation, as if parcelling out her confusion. “You sent me a letter telling me to come to Asgard, informing me of Gerrie’s disappearance.” She spared a glance at her friend, whose eyebrows rose.
“Interesting,” Aelfsi whispered. The queens shared a look before turning back to Solveig. “We never sent such a letter and have not received one from you for quite some time.” Her tone was that of a scolding mother.
“Since your return from capture, to be exact,” Koa added. “Just this morning we were discussing visiting the Southern Wilds ourselves.”
“So you don’t know . . .” Solveig trailed off, and her happiness at seeing Gerrie alive and well was quickly replaced with the harsh sorrow Westley knew all too well.
“It seems there is much to discuss,” Aelfsi said, understanding Solveig’s reluctance to speak in the open.
“Come, let us counsel.” Koa took Solveig by the arm and made to leave the courtyard when the wind blew through the group, carrying Westley’s scent to them. She turned around, all softness gone from her features.
“Prince Westley Erikson,” Koa addressed him directly.
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“Why do you carry the scent of our daughter’s fear?” It was Aelfsi who asked the damning question.
Westley froze, his eyes darting to Solveig, who was assessing the two queens.
“Koa, I will explain,” Solveig tried, but Koa did not relent.
“Have you attacked our daughter, Prince?”
His title in the queen’s voice was wrong, said with true disdain and mistrust.
Solveig tried again. “Let the prince and his companion rest while I speak with you in private.”
Queen Koa turned her gaze to Solveig’s and they shared a loaded look, one that Westley was positive he would have to answer to eventually.
“Mark my words, Prince of Idavoll, any threat against our daughter is a threat to Asgard and will be handled with appropriate severity.” Queen Aelfsi punctuated her statement with a gesture to the guards.
Noren and Westley were yanked to standing. They had a moment of relief from the hard stone digging into their knees before their hands were roughly cuffed behind their backs.
I’m sorry. Solveig sounded sincere.
I’d expect nothing less, he replied.
“Take them to the dungeon to await their execution and place three guards for each prisoner outside their cells.”
“Aelfsi, I do not think it wise to make such a rash decision,” Solveig said, her relaxed posture at odds with the urgency in her tone.
Death for my crimes was inevitable, Westley assured her, resigning himself to his fate.
Your death is my call, Prince. Have patience.
Conalle rushed forward. “Your Majesties, please consider the consequences of this verdict.”
Aelfsi turned her cold gaze on the lord, assessing his nervous demeanour. “We will protect our daughter at all costs.” Her steely eyes met Westley’s. “Even if that cost is heir to another realm.”
Westley bowed his head in deference.
They know not of what they speak, Solveig said.
“Your Majesties, if I may—” Conalle started.
“That will do, Lord Conalle.” Aelfsi shot him a warning look. Conalle cast an apologetic glance at them.
Solveig stepped forward. “The debt owed is mine to claim, and I will not allow justice to be served without the facts laid before you.” Westley’s gaze darted between daughter and mothers’ silent standoff. Solveig shrugged. “Perhaps execution is too lenient.”
Thanks for that, Westley threw her way, not entirely sarcastic. She was doing what she could to stall his death, and for that he was grateful, even if her reasons were beyond his understanding.
“Very well. They do not speak until we have this sorted,” Koa ordered. They were hauled to their feet and ushered down a corridor. Westley tried to look back at Solveig, but she was already out of sight.
I will accept any punishment you deem fit, he thought. He didn’t know if she heard him before they began to descend a dark stairwell. The guards led them to a dungeon, throwing them in separate cells.
Noren shifted to see him through the iron bars, mouthing, Shit.
Westley couldn’t help but agree.