Chapter Thirty-Eight
Stellen
My enemies in Frost are no longer moving in the shadows.
Brunkil was just the beginning.
I may fight a never-ending war against the Iron and Ember Fae, but there are other equally powerful foe I must warn Thyra about.
Her pounding heart dominates my hearing, but her firm command is as clear and strong as a ringing bell. “Explain all of this to me.”
I don’t withhold information, listening to the changes in her breathing, her reactions as I speak.
“The men who died in that field belong to a family that has grown more powerful with every generation: the Silversten family.
My grandfather should have put a stop to their growing power, but he was greedy and my father more so.
They both ignored the threat as long as the Silversten family paid them well.
Frost coin. Courtesans. Precious artifacts.
The only good thing my father did was to demand possession of all scrolls and historical writings.
“Meanwhile, the head of the Silversten family covets the throne. Until today, he’s sent assassins under the cover of shadows. Quiet attempts. But when Nara came back without me last night, his spies in the city would have relayed that information to him. He will have seen his chance to attack.”
“So his men followed Lilis and Nara to the Alak-Teah and…what?” Thyra asks. “Hoped to find you injured?”
“That, and better yet, in possession of you. A true victory would have been to kill me and seize you.”
Thyra is quiet for a moment. “Lilis fought them off. She killed all of them. Six against one.”
“Never underestimate her, Thyra. She doesn’t suffer anyone foolish enough to come after her.”
“But she fears you.”
Thyra’s quiet statement is far too astute.
“Yes.” I consider how much I should tell Thyra and settle on what is most important right now. “Lilis doesn’t stand at my side willingly. She would kill me if she could.”
Again, Thyra is quiet, staring forward. “Will you tell me why?”
“Many reasons.” I exhale softly. “But most dominantly, she fears I’ll send her back to her former life.”
“Which was?”
It’s public knowledge in Frost, so I’m not sure why I hesitate. Maybe because Lilis has gone to great lengths to put that part of her life behind her, and Thyra is one of the few fae who doesn’t know about it.
I remind myself that strategy must stand above all else. Thyra’s compassion can’t touch my reasoning. Right now, Lilis’s past is relevant to the threats Thyra will face.
“She was a courtesan for the Silversten family,” I say. “Her former master is the head of that family. His name is Iker Silversten.”
I pronounce his first name carefully. Ee-kuh.
“Iker,” she murmurs. “That was the name of the Frost General who served the Serulian King, wasn’t it?”
“Before the False Queen cast her curse,” I reply. “Like me, Iker is directly descended from that line. His ancestor was the Frost General’s second son. If it weren’t for that, Iker would be on the throne, not me.”
“Is he the only other one with any claim? There must have been other brothers and sisters over time.”
My jaw clenches. “There were.”
She stiffens. “Were?”
“My grandfather killed his siblings. So did my father. Iker’s ancestors did the same.
Iker was an only child. His mother…” I sigh.
“Apparently, she refused to be part of a situation where she would one day watch her children kill each other, so after Iker was born, she left her husband to his courtesans. Iker, on the other hand, has seven children, all nearly grown. Once the youngest turns twenty, they face death at each other’s hands until only one remains.
“The only question is how they will fight. Perhaps in a field of bloodied snow. Or maybe they will pick each other off through a series of concealed attacks. The choice is Iker’s.”
“But that’s…” The horror in Thyra’s voice would shake me if I could feel that emotion.
She tugs away from me. “You had a family, too.”
I catch my breath. She must want to know if I killed them to ascend to the throne.
I told her I wanted my family back. I wasn’t lying.
“There are some things I won’t speak of, Thyra,” I say, my arms so tightly clamped around her that I’m certain they must feel like chains.
Some things I can’t speak of, even though I’m certain she’ll hear about them eventually.
“But I will tell you this,” I continue, “and I need you to know how deeply true it is: I loved my mother and my sister more than I loved my own life—”
My voice strangles before I can continue and I fucking hate it.
Closing my eyes, I repeat my mantra within my mind.
No more.
“I didn’t kill them. If I could have died instead of them, I would have.”
Slowly, the tension in Thyra’s body fades. She leans back into me, her hair tickling my chin as she turns her face toward my neck. “You don’t have to talk about it. I won’t ask.”
The scent of her hair is once again like icy roses, but this time, it’s soothing.
“If Lilis was trapped in servitude to the Silversten family,” Thyra says, “how did she get out?”
I welcome the change of focus back to Lilis. “She came after me one night. I gave her a choice other than death.”
Thyra cranes to see me. “‘Came after’ you?”
A cold smile forms. “Lilis had, unknown to Iker, trained herself in combat. She hoped that if she could present my head to him and effectively hand him the throne, he would reward her with her freedom.” My smile becomes grim. “He would have killed her. She knew this.”
I don’t miss the catch in Thyra’s voice. “So she really came to you for a swift death.”
“Which I denied.”
“Because?” Thyra attempts to pin me with her gaze. “Why not kill her?”
Why not, indeed? When I’ve demonstrated to Thyra that’s what I do to my enemies.
If only Iker weren’t so careful to stay out of my presence.
He’s twenty years older than me, nearing the end of his fifth decade, but he hasn’t come within striking distance of me since I took the throne, and never without multiple fae between us acting as a living shield against aggression.
“Lilis got closer to me than any assassin had before,” I say. “I needed a general to lead my army. My soldiers feared me but didn’t trust me. I saw an opportunity and took it.”
“How did Iker react?”
“He labeled Lilis a traitor and swore he’d get his revenge. Vows like that don’t diminish with time. The men in the field are from Iker’s personal guard. It doesn’t surprise me that they struck Lilis from behind.”
Thyra’s chest deflates. “You weren’t exaggerating when you said Frost Fae don’t hide behind duplicitous smiles. You warned me that the dangers in your kingdom are as clear as they are deadly.”
“Iker has had years to prepare,” I reply. “He’s trained his own personal army. If I die, he will take power.”
Thyra’s exhalation is soft. Slow. “Now I’ve foreseen that the Winter Strife will come into play.”
“I don’t want to make you doubt yourself, but are you sure it was Brunkil’s voice you heard?”
Thyra cranes to look up at me, her pale-blue eyes wide, and this time, I loosen my hold on her, allowing her to twist. It causes her cloak to gape open, and she immediately tugs at it from the inside.
Only for another section to gape. She will need to close it soon, as the wind is picking up, but for now, I don’t want to confine her. She can choose to stay warm—or not.
“I want to say yes, it was definitely Brunkil,” she says, “but now that I understand more about your kingdom… If I’m wrong, and you choose to trust me and believe the threat will come only from the shapeshifters, the consequences could be catastrophic.”
She turns to face forward again, her cloak closing around her.
“No matter who comes for the throne,” I say, “whether it’s Iker or Brunkil, they will want two things: to kill me and seize you. If they’re smart, they won’t try to do both at once. They’ll come for you first. Then find a way to invoke the Strife.”
“Take my visions away from you first.” She nods. “Either by force or…will they try to convince me to ally myself with them?”
“They might. Your power is a significant tool that could work in their favor if you were willing.”
“But if they can’t convince me to work for them, they’ll kill me.”
She frames the outcome as a certainty, not a question, and this time, she doesn’t try to twist to see me as she continues.
“Not once have you told me, you want me to break the curse. I’ve spoken about it, and you listened, but you’ve avoided promising anything.
It’s only now occurring to me that your people, the Frost Fae, have come to accept this life.
And even, for some of them, to want to protect the power they’ve accumulated because of it.
” She pauses and now she asks, “Am I wrong?”
Despite the iciness with which she speaks and the hard certainty in her voice, her heart betrays how weakened she is.
She’s hungry and tired, but damn, she’s determined to hide it.
I could have let her believe what I first assumed about the battle behind me—that the Northerners were responsible for the carnage—but I won’t lie to her.
I nudge my cheek to hers, giving her the confirmation she seeks by asking, “What kind of combat training do you have?”
“Basic defense,” she replies. “I know how to hold a weapon—daggers and swords—and how to defend against a blade’s strike. I know how to dodge a fist, and I’m a fast runner. But I have very little offensive training. Escape was always the goal.”
“Well, then. We’ll need to do something about that.” I lower my lips to her earlobe, pressing the lightest kiss to her soft skin.
“Good. As soon as possible.” Her reply is firm, strong, but again, I can sense the exhaustion that lies beneath her outer resilience.
The temptation to draw on my Lethian power to soothe her is strong, but even within this white expanse, I can’t start using it again.
Iker may want my throne and the shapeshifters might want my head, but the general population tolerates me as long as they believe I will never again use my Lethian power.
Not like I once did.
When I stepped out from the Alak-Teah this morning, it was a deliberate step away from my power. As if I could separate from it. A mental barrier fell into place. I need to pretend my Voice has stayed back there.
Fighting to remain monotone, I whisper, “Be easy, Thyra. Strategy is everything.”
Chaos will not control me.
Loss will not control me.
No more.
She turns into my touch, her eyes closed. “You have a plan.”
“Of course,” I reply. “I’ll kill anyone who comes near you.”