27. LONNIE

27

LONNIE

THE KEEP, NEVERMORE

W hat felt like an hour later, there was a soft knock at the door.

I sat up and looked confusedly at the door to our room. I could swear the knock hadn't come from that direction, yet I'd heard it, clear as day.

"Did you hear that?" I asked.

Scion looked over at me and shook his head.

His eyes were half closed, but he wasn't sleeping. His face looked less sharp, the firm ridge of his eyebrows smoothed out and his jaw considerably less tense than it usually was. Indeed, he looked as relaxed as I'd possibly ever seen him, even when he was sleeping. It seemed a shame to disturb him, but it seemed it couldn't be helped.

After a long moment, the knock came again. This time I was positive it was coming from the opposite side of the room. This time, Scion sat up as well, all the tension he carried with him like a noose around his neck returning to his face in an instant.

He stood up, and not bothering to get dressed, strode across the room toward a door I'd assumed was a closet. Without warning me, or giving me a chance to cover myself, he flung it open.

I yelped, and grappled for Scion's abandoned shirt, throwing it over myself like a tent. My head popped out of the neck just in time to see Ambrose in the doorway. He raised an eyebrow, then shouldered past Scion to enter the room.

"Bit cold for that," he said over his shoulder. "Don't you think?"

Scion scowled and reached for his trousers on the floor. "What do you want?"

Ambrose crossed his arms and faced Scion, turning his back to me. Perhaps he was trying to give me some privacy, but I didn't really care. We were far beyond that.

"We're expected downstairs for dinner."

Scion looked at the dark window with confusion. "Now?"

"Yes," Ambrose said bitterly. "I wish I could say they simply eat late here, but from what I recall that's inaccurate."

"You've spent a lot of time here?" I asked Ambrose, unable to keep the note of bitterness out of my voice.

He looked at me, and I could swear the corner of his mouth ticked up slightly. "Enough to guess that this dinner is in our honor."

"And what an honor it is." Sarcasm dripped from Scion's tone. He finished putting on his trousers and crossed to sit on the edge of the bed and pull on his boots.

"I think we should expect violence," Ambrose said.

Scion looked up at him. "You're serious? How foolish are they."

"I wouldn't underestimate them," Ambrose said warily. "Nevermore has a lot of magic compared with the mainland. They weren't as affected by the fall of Nightshade as we were."

"Why not?" I asked quickly.

He looked over at me quickly, and for a fraction of a second I caught his eyes darting over my bare legs, before snapping back up to my face. "They have a source of their own here. Not nearly as powerful as The Source , but they draw a lot of power from the sea."

"What sort of magic does Cassinda have?" I blurted out. I internally cringed when I heard the clear note of jealousy in my voice, and prayed it wasn't noticeable to anyone else. That prayer went unanswered.

Ambrose smirked at me, a look of male satisfaction crossing his face. "You didn't like Cassinda?"

"How could I when I couldn't understand a word she was saying?" I hissed.

"I don't like her either," he said, almost like he was offering me consolation.

"But you were going to marry her?"

To my surprise, Scion cut in. "That means absolutely nothing, rebel. We don't marry for love."

"I know," I snapped, wishing I could control my voice better. "Bael told me you marry for power. So, what kind of magic does Cassinda have?"

"She's an illusionist," Ambrose said. "Grandmother would have preferred to find another seer, but there simply isn't one strong enough to make a good match. My mother is an illusionist, like Scion, so it seemed the most reasonable alternative."

I pursed my lips, thinking hard. They talked about their hypothetical future children like they were breeding particularly rare horses. It was so cold and disconnected it made my skin crawl.

And, as much as I hated myself for it, I couldn't help but wonder how I'd measure up. I didn't have the right powers to keep the dynasty growing. Worse, I was half human. What if my children were rejected and looked down on because they weren't illusionists or whatever else.

I shook my head and blinked to clear my mind. This was absurd. I'd never thought much about children before, except how not to have them. Clearly the stress and lack of sleep of the last several days was making me go a bit mad.

"Is Cassinda angry that you didn't marry her?" I asked, slightly distracted.

"Oh, absolutely," Ambrose said far too quickly.

My eyes narrowed. As before, when I'd considered Scion kissing another woman, I felt a stab of irrational rage so potent that I had to put a hand out on the bedpost to steady myself.

"Because she didn't get to be the queen," Scion blurted out, looking at me sideways with something like concern. "She wanted to be the queen, it wasn't about him specifically. Her father proposed she marry me instead about ten years ago, but obviously it didn't work out."

"Why not?" I replied through gritted teeth.

"For one thing, she's several hundred years older than I am. That doesn't always matter, but it's not ideal. Also, the situation with Thalia was more pressing. If Gwydion wasn't happy to take my place I would have had to marry her."

I had to drag my mind and swirling emotions back from the edge of insanity to even begin to understand what he was referring to.

Thalia had explained to me once that she was sent to the capital to marry Scion because she'd found her true mate and the family was afraid she had enough Everlast blood to set off the curse. "I've always thought that was strange," I muttered, my voice returning to a normal register. "If Thalia had enough Everlast blood to potentially be dangerous, isn't she too related to you to marry?"

Scion scoffed. "That's nothing, rebel. For the entire year that Penvalle ruled there was a lot of talk about trying to force me to marry Aine."

"Aine?" I said, distracted. "But she's your cousin."

"Right, but that's irrelevant. She has the persuasion gift, which is more rare than illusion and objectively more powerful if it's used correctly. If a child could have both illusion and persuasion–"

"They'd be like Idris," I blurted out.

They both paused and looked at me, then each other.

"Did he use an illusion?" Scion asked no one in particular. "I didn't notice."

"He must have!" My voice grew louder with excitement. "What other power could banish the afflicted so quickly? What if he simply hid them, or–oh!" I exclaimed, my eyes growing even wider as an even better idea occurred to me. "What if they were never there to begin with? I remember thinking it was strange. I didn't smell the smoke."

Again, they glanced at each other.

"I'd say you're right, rebel," Scion said slowly. "But that doesn't help us now."

"How?" I demanded. "If we know what powers he has we'll know how to stop him."

"He means it doesn't change what we have to do," Ambrose added. "We still need to find the jewels and put the crown back together and have all your bonds sealed. Without that, it won't matter how we attack Idris. You'll be drained, and then there would be no point continuing anyway."

I narrowed my gaze at him. It sounded like he was saying that if I died, he'd see no point in continuing. But that was insane. Even if I died, the kingdom would still matter. Right?

Ambrose glanced at the window and then back at me. "It's getting late and there are no fucking clocks in this place. I don't know what time it is, but we likely have to get down to dinner. I've yet to think of a better way to get the jewel than simply asking Bran for it, and dinner is the only time to do it."

"Agreed," Scion replied. "Could we simply order him to give it to us?"

"Perhaps." Ambrose glanced at me. "But that would likely make him angry, and I'd rather avoid that if we can. All they need is the smallest push and they'll succeed from us tonight."

Scion nodded again, seeming to understand more than I did.

For something to do, I rose and crossed the room to the small bag of clothing and food we'd brought with us. I wished I'd packed a gown, but all I had was my magenta corseted coat from Inbetwixt and a pair of black trousers. Oh, and the crown, I supposed. "If I'm going I need to get dressed."

Scion looked perplexed. "Why wouldn't you be going, rebel?"

"I don't understand the language, and if you two have to keep translating for me it will look strange, don't you think?"

"I don't care what it looks like," Ambrose said hotly. "Still, I think you're right. This dinner will be difficult for you. Just keep in mind that they all understand the common tongue perfectly, no matter what they try to make you believe. If they use it, they want to make sure you understand."

I sighed. "This will hardly be the first uncomfortable meal I've sat through. I'm sure Cassidna has nothing on Raewyn."