Chapter Two
“Ibelieve it’s a good sign. He’s warming up to you,” I told Matea as we crossed the gates surrounding The Haven.
“Yes, but most of the time he’s so dismissive. I was surprised when he actually permitted me to enter your shared chambers this morning,” she responded.
Apparently, she was under the impression that Byn didn’t like her.
“Right, but he did let you. And anyways, can you blame him for being overprotective? My only other sibling seems to be a wild card of sorts.”
Matea sighed, then nodded her agreement. “You’re probably right. I’m likely over-analyzing the situation. It’s just odd, to be so closely acquainted with my king after years of avoiding not only him, but everybody,” she explained further.
Up until recently, Matea had been forced to be kept a secret from the world.
With how protective—and, frankly, terrifying—my father was, our maternal grandparents had kept anybody from knowing Matea existed.
They wanted to ensure it didn’t become common knowledge that our mother had another daughter out there, even if she had been on the other side of the continent.
In all honesty, it sounded very isolating.
Though, with the way I grew up, I guess I didn’t have it too much better than she did.
“That had to have been difficult,” I murmured as we passed a set of guards, who immediately stood at attention when they caught sight of me coming towards them.
“It’s what was necessary. I’m just happy that part of my life is over—living in that fear.”
“I’m glad it is, too. I likely would still be in bed if it weren’t for you,” I responded as we walked through the front doors of The Haven.
The gargantuan structure made of a mixture of dark and honey-colored wood looked like it was glowing as the afternoon sun shone on it.
The stone accents and towers broke up the sight of the wood, making the castle aesthetically pleasing to gaze upon.
The glass panes of the window showed small glimpses of life and movement inside The Haven—so unlike the cold, distant, and empty castle I’d been raised in.
“There you two are,” Quinn said, walking up to Matea and me. “Robyn’s called a meeting of the Valwain—we have news from the border.”
“You need both of us?” Matea asked the general.
“Robyn appreciates your continued support as of late, especially regarding his wife,” Quinn responded, all too formally.
“I’m standing right here, you know,” I chimed in.
Quinn smiled sweetly at me, her green eyes crinkling at the corners, though their usual shine had been absent the past month.
The scar that ran vertically through her left eyebrow and down her cheek shifted with the movement.
Without another word, she turned on her heels and headed towards the royal’s private wing of The Haven, not waiting to see if Matea and I followed.
My sister and I shared a curious glance, then fell into line behind Quinn.
We passed guards and townsfolk alike as we followed the redhead, almost every one of them stopping to catch a glimpse at the three of us.
“An Ashford—”
“Married right before he died—”
“She just showed up out of nowhere—”
The whispering and murmuring about us grew overwhelming, but Quinn didn’t falter. Her steps remained steady and unhurried as we made our way through the throng of fae surrounding us.
Soon enough, we reached the private wing, and I heard Matea let out a shaky breath, as if she’d been holding it in.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that,” she said after rounding the corner and escaping the public’s eye.
“You will,” Quinn said simply.
As the first female army general in centuries, stemming from a family line of male generals, I could only imagine the atrocities Quinn had to listen to over the course of her life. And those that she’d have to continue to endure in the future.
Quinn knocked on a door to our left—three quick taps followed by two slower ones. After a soft rustling sounded from inside the room that I imagined was the movement of loose papers, Byn came to the door, opening it wide.
I didn’t try to stop the hitching of my breath at the sight of him.
I feared he’d always be my undoing.
Today he wore a deep red tunic tucked into chocolate-brown trousers, all accented with gold threading, buttons, and details.
The tunic’s smaller details near his collar bones and buttons had a swirling pattern that reminded me of the markings on his right arm.
The brown, loose markings spiraling up his hand and forearm symbolized his connection to his Titan Wolf, Atlas—who never seemed to be too far away.
The red of his top brought out the wine-red hues of his chestnut hair, which my fingers twitched to run themselves through. His freckles spread across his cheeks like tiny kisses overlapping, and the small scar on his jaw shone bright against his tan skin.
Each day I spent with him, I found myself only falling for him even farther.
“You too, Matea. If you’ll have us, that is,” Byn said, and I was suddenly hyperaware that he had been talking to us this entire time. I also couldn’t ignore the mixed emotions radiating from my husband—toward Matea, it seemed.
Matea dipped her chin. “It’d be my honor, Your Majesty.”
“Please, just Robyn. We are siblings by marriage, after all.” Byn offered her a half smile.
Matea returned it with a hesitant smile of her own, and we all ducked into the room, where I noticed the rest of the Valwain—along with a couple others—had been awaiting our arrival.
Seated around a large oval table were Chess, Rayven, Teagan, and Callum, while standing on opposite sides of the room were Caelia and Laurence.
The Ocrein Isle Princess was rarely very far from her brother—even now she stood near his chair, leaning against the closest wall with her arms crossed over her chest.
Callum and Caelia weren’t members of the Valwain, which was made up of only those Byn—and now myself—saw fit. Since the Ocrein Isle royals had come to our aid almost a month ago, and had been helping us in this war ever since, they’d been permitted into almost each and every meeting we held.
Speaking of the Valwain, we had gained a new member recently.
Laurence, the head librarian turned queen’s bodyguard, had been overjoyed at the proposition.
Laurence was my first addition to the group since I myself joined its ranks; all other members had been invited by Byn before I had ever stepped foot here in the South.
A week and a half ago there was a public ceremony in which both Laurence and I vowed to serve the South in any way we could, and to always be loyal to the Thorntier line.
My vows had been slightly adjusted, as I was part of the Thorntier line now, by marriage, but we made sure the main point had remained the same.
We would live, and die, for the good of the South of Inphis.
I had technically been a part of the Valwain for a while by this point, but with everything surrounding the recent battle at Wittuck Woods—which had been named the Battle of Shadows, in honor of the Ocrein Isles—there hadn’t been time for an official ceremony until recently.
Laurence and I had hugged after saying our vows to Byn, my husband, king, and partner in all things. I had been able to physically feel Byn’s joy overflowing into my own body in that moment.
Now, Laurence met my eyes and nodded once, silently welcoming me to the meeting. As I settled next to Byn’s seat, I noted Laurence shifting to stand slightly closer to my chair.
Always on guard, that one.
Matea took the seat to my left, Byn taking the one to my right, as I had assumed. Teagan sat to his right, flattening the papers before her and Byn, as though the two siblings had been looking over them together just moments ago.
“Thank you all for making it here so quickly. Teagan and I didn’t think it wise to put this meeting on hold, with the new information we just received,” Byn began.
“Get to the point, Thorntier,” Caelia yawned, waving a hand lazily.
“Caelia,” Callum reprimanded his younger sister. “Carry on, Robyn.”
Byn’s irritation rose in my chest like a wave, so I knew he must have been on edge if he was allowing Caelia to get to him so easily. I glanced down at the tattoo inked onto my inner left forearm, where the image of the Thorntier family line lay on my skin like a brand.
A wolf’s head with the silhouette of the sun behind it.
In the same spot on Byn’s body was a tattoo of the Heartshire family crest—a flared wing with a crescent moon behind it.
My family’s insignia, and also the symbol representing the entire North of Inphis.
The tattoos had been embedded into our skin with a special sort of ink which allowed the two parties who shared the ink to feel each other’s emotions.
Quinn and Ezra had used these special royal inks as well.
The inks that had only ever been produced by one bloodline in the South—and whose final member had recently perished.
The Mirthlowe family was no more, and they had taken the recipe for these special inks with them when they returned to the Stars.
Whatever ink we had left was all that would ever exist.
And yet, Quinn and Ezra had gotten ahold of some.
I could only imagine the types of emotions she’d had to endure through the bond over the past month.
Since we had lost Ezra.
“We just received word that each and every corvid we sent with messages over the border into the North—they didn’t make it.
They were all found dead, necks snapped, in a pile just across our side of the border, the notes attached untouched,” Byn said, diving straight into the meat of it, it seemed.
“It appears the North does not wish to make contact with us at this time.”
I couldn’t help but notice the way Drayven’s face dropped from across the table. As one of the main caretakers for our messenger birds, hearing about the death of so many corvids must have taken a toll.