Chapter 25

Twenty-Five

Rhoswyn

“ R elease her!” I hiss, staring down the soldiers standing outside of Prae’s cell with an anger that’s reflected in the way Caed is bristling behind me.

These aren’t the dungeons. They’ve locked her in the holding area above, for now, but only because we caught them before they could drag her downstairs. There are only a handful of cells here, set against the dry earth wall, and they’re empty except for Prae in the middle. On my right is a narrow stairwell leading downwards, which echoes with the screams of the prisoners below us. The noise only adds to my fury and the flex of Danu’s claws in my mind.

My glamour is gone, and so is Bree’s. I’m sure the three of us look fairly imposing because the Autumn Court soldiers guarding Prae’s cell are stuttering and mumbling as they stall for time.

Prae is in the corner, her head bowed as she hugs one arm to her chest like it’s paining her.

We still don’t know what happened beyond rumours that she tried to gut Gryffin in the middle of the festival.

“I swear to Danu,” I say. “If you don’t let her out right this instant?—”

“She attacked our prince!”

“Probably for good reason,” Caed mutters, and I shoot him a look.

“She’s a trusted member of my court,” I state again. “Now open the cell and let her out, before my Guards make you.”

Everything in me screams that there is something wrong with the broken posture of my friend—and she is my friend, despite what she might’ve insisted earlier.

“Release her,” a deeper, masculine voice orders from behind me, but there’s a wheeze in Gryffin’s voice that wasn’t there before.

The soldiers finally relent, opening the dark cell in the bowels of the palace tree, and I rush past them both to kneel beside Prae. She won’t let me see her arm, and concern grows as I wonder just how bad it is. The rest of her is covered in greenish bruises from the not-so-careful treatment of the soldiers who locked her away before Caed and I could get to her, but I don’t see any other permanent damage. Her navy lipstick is smudged, as is some of the warpaint along her cheekbones, but there’s no indication that anything more happened. Certainly nothing that would make such a fierce warrior react like… this.

“Hey,” I mumble. “Let me see. Whatever it is, I can heal it. Titania will get you mended.”

“What. Did. You. Do?” Caed demands, trying his best to storm past Bree to get to the Autumn Court prince.

“What I ordered him to.” Cressida’s reply is sharp, and unforgiving in a way that makes my gut sink like a stone. “Dismissed.” She waves away the soldiers, and they retreat gratefully. “I couldn’t risk having a fae with such a dangerous gift wandering around. Especially one in regular contact with the Nicnevin. Can you imagine if you’d been withered to death in my court? It would’ve been a nightmare. It was either this, or kill him myself, and I promised his father I would keep him alive.”

I tune her ranting out, focusing on Prae, but the Fomorian has Gryffin pinned with her one good eye, and now that she’s uncurled herself a little, I can make out the arm she’s cradling.

An arm covered in blood, and opalescent, amber-gold tattoos reminiscent of…

Rage, the likes of which I’ve never felt before blazes forth.

“Did you agree?” I ask her quietly. “Did he ask you before he did this?”

Her half head shake is all I need.

Standing, I pull Danu’s power to the forefront of my mind and meet the depths of those hazel eyes.

“Please kneel .”

Gryffin drops like a stone.

“You mated my friend without her consent.” I stride from the cell, snatching Caed’s sword from him as I go. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now.”

“Because it will likely kill both of them,” Cressida says, and I glare at her.

“Don’t you think you’ve interfered enough? Stay out of this.”

“If you kill my nephew,” she begins, then chokes off. Her vow won’t let her threaten me.

Gryffin says nothing. He’s just staring at the floor, waiting for the deathblow. On his own arm, a matching set of marks in the same rich teal as Prae’s skin shimmers, though I suppose she can’t see them. The thumb of his opposite hand strokes the mark reverently.

Prae gasps, and the sound is like oil on the flames of my rage.

“Please press your cheek into the dirt,” I snap, when he looks past me to her.

The last thing she needs after this is to have him staring at her.

It’s probably the most degrading position for a prince to be in, but I don’t care. It’s not enough. The tip of my stolen sword digs into his other cheek, applying pressure, but not cutting. Not yet.

“I made the boy do it.” Cressida interrupts a second time, but this time I don’t rebuke her. “I used his oath as my knight to make him form the bond by any means necessary if it looked like she wasn’t going to accept him at the end of the week.”

“How could you do that?” I demand, looking at her own mate marks, three different coloured swirls up one of her arms. “You forced a sacred bond, knowing how deep a violation it would be if it was unwanted.”

That is what’s pissing Danu off, I realise. The Goddess created the nascent bond between Prae and Gryffin, a promise of what could be, if they accepted it. She’s beyond mad that neither of them got to choose that gift for themselves.

“He is my nephew.” She’s unapologetic and every inch as regal as she can be. “I promised his father I would care for him, and I can’t justify the loss of him at a time when my people desperately need his magic on the front lines. This was the only way. Besides, Praedra is a warrior. She understands why I did it.”

“I understand,” Prae whispers, whipping all our heads towards us. “I—” She looks at me. “Can I leave this cell without causing a diplomatic incident?”

I nod. “Even if you do, it doesn’t matter. We’re done here.”

“Rose—” Drystan appears behind Cressida in the doorway, then freezes like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

“We’re leaving,” I repeat. “We came here to get Cressida’s vow. We’ve got it.”

“You need to keep training,” he protests. “And Praedra is a grown female. She can sort her own?—”

“You’re not ready,” Cressida interrupts him. “You came here to win the war. Well, Autumn can’t help you unless the fucking army that’s hammering our northern border disappears. That won’t happen until we have a Nicnevin capable of driving them back. You can’t?—”

“I will do what I have to,” I retort, Danu edging my tone this time. “And that includes saving my courts.”

Taking a deep breath, I try to force the Goddess back, only to grimace when I realise she won’t be cowed so easily.

Compromise, Titania once urged me. How do I compromise when the deed is already done? And besides, I’m not the victim here; Prae is. Exercising vengeance on her behalf, when I’m not even sure if that’s what she wants, is wrong.

And who would I punish? The male who tricked her into a bond, or the female who did what she did out of concern for her nephew?

“Praedra,” Danu speaks through me, and I see the whole room wince. “Choose their fates.”

A blue hand takes my free one, pulling me back. Her simple touch shatters the rage inside me, turning it to concern and breaking the hold the Goddess has on me until I slump.

“I want to get out of this dungeon,” she says, her marked arm stiff by her side. “And I want to leave this stupid fucking court.”

Danu agrees; her eagerness filling me in a pulse that almost sends me running for the door.

“Rhoswyn.” There Drystan goes again, using my full name to warn me I’m not doing the sensible thing.

“Drystan,” I retort, just as icily. “You cannot seriously expect me to stay in a court that betrayed our trust like this?”

“We expect you to do what’s best for your people, like a Nicnevin should.” Cressida snaps. “A half-trained?—”

“What have I been doing all week?” I demand. “I’ve spent every waking moment flying or summoning ghosts and having them fight everything from your soldiers to more spirits. And if I wasn’t doing that, I was learning to fight for myself.”

“You are still worse at fighting than most fae children,” she points out. “Going now would be stupid. You’d risk your entire queendom over the hurt feelings of an enemy princess?”

“I’d do worse for my friend.” I drag Prae past the still-frozen royals without bothering to unfreeze Gryffin.

He can stay there all night for all I care.

“I’m glad you almost gutted him,” I murmur to her when we’re on the stairs.

There’s a grunt behind her, followed by some low, threatening words that I know in my soul are coming from Caed, but I’m more concerned with Drystan who’s hot on my heels.

“This is brash,” he insists, as I lead Prae back out of the palace tree.

“I know,” I assure him, throwing a glamour over us both to hide us from the lurking fae nearby, who are no doubt hungry for a glimmer of the gossip.

It’s not that I don’t care, but more that some part of me was silently waiting for this to happen. After what happened in the other courts, Cressida’s court felt too good to be true. I hate that I’ve been proven right, but I’m less affected by the thought of leaving than I thought I would be. Especially with the Goddess suddenly so eager for the move.

And if leaving helps Prae? I’ll do it in a heartbeat.

I don’t stop until I’m back at the door to Prae’s room, and when we’re past it, I let Caed through and then slam the door in the faces of the rest of my Guard.

“Rhoswyn.” Drystan lets out an exasperated breath that I can hear through the wood. “I recognise that Praedra needs you both right now, but I would prefer it if you would allow one of us to accompany you as well.”

Because of Caed, he means. I swallow back the angry retort that springs to mind. Honestly, I’m surprised he’s not just demanding entry.

“Maeve,” I murmur, and my grandmother is there in an instant. “Hold the door for us?”

With a grin and a little push of power, she does as I ask, turning solid and bracing herself against the wood. I’m just in time, because a second later, the handle rattles.

I love my Guard, but this isn’t the time for their protectiveness. Fortunately, they seem to get the message, because they don’t try a second time. I’m not fooled into thinking they aren’t listening in and probably guarding all the exits in case Caed decides to abscond with me, but the illusion of privacy is enough.

“Let’s get the blood off you,” I whisper, soothingly, and Prae’s hands fist by her sides.

“She means you look like a fucking wreck.” Caed gives his cousin a once over, and curiously enough, that’s what gets her moving.

She has zero shame as she tears the copper dress I’d admired earlier from her body and heads for the tub. It’s empty, but as I watch, it disappears, replaced with the larger tub from my room. A second later, a phantom kiss brushes against my cheek.

Lore.

I should’ve guessed bracing the door would do nothing against him.

“Can we have some privacy?” I ask him quietly as Prae tugs at the leather straps of the empty weapon holsters at her thighs. “You know I’m not in danger with them.”

Another kiss, but this one is a goodbye. I feel him leave just as Prae reaches back and undoes the straps holding Florian’s sword against her spine. In one smooth motion, she lowers herself into the steaming water and dunks her whole body under. She comes back up with her war paint dripping down her cheeks like the tears she hasn’t shed.

Settling to my knees behind her, I quietly move my hands to the tangled mess of braids that is her hair.

“Can I undo these to wash them?” I ask softly.

A jerky nod.

Caed heads for a cabinet and returns with bottles of soap and shampoo, but it takes a long time to undo the careful mass of white locks, especially now that they’re wet.

“I was going to say yes.” Prae breaks the careful silence with a voice that’s liquid with rage. “I was going to tell him—and then she took that from me.”

I pause, midway through rubbing the shampoo into her scalp, soapy bubbles dripping from my hands into the water. I’m not sure if this confession makes the situation better or worse.

My attempt at comfort earlier just made things worse. For whatever reason, she finds Caed’s harshness easier to deal with right now. I don’t have his ability to look someone hurt in the eye and be so standoffish, so I keep my mouth shut.

“That stupid idiot tricked me into sparring with him, then used my blind side to do this.”

Her arm rises from the dark water, the mark shimmering softly.

“I can’t even see it,” she mutters, swiping a washcloth over the skin and shivering. “Can you?” She aims the question at Caed, who nods.

“Still there,” he confirms. “Not as ugly as I thought it would be, though.”

We fall back into silence until I push gently at her shoulders. “Rinse.”

She dunks obligingly, and when she comes up again, I sigh. “Cressida took things too far. She shouldn’t have meddled, even if you did want it.”

“Damn straight she shouldn’t have,” Prae mutters. “But what do I do now? I can’t ignore him. He’s right there, under my skin. I can even feel how stupidly sorry he is. It’s like ignoring a kicked puppy.”

Caed raises a white brow. “When have you ever given a shit about kicked puppies?”

“Where do you want to go from here?” I ask. “From what I’ve heard, mates don’t do well when they’re separated.”

It’s why fae law prohibits them being kept apart, but I don’t add that part.

Prae shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

I pass her a towel, and she’s barely finished wrapping it around herself before her shoulders stiffen and a dark look passes over her face. An instant later, there’s a gentle knock at the door.

“Go away!” she snaps, before I can ask who it is.

The knocker doesn’t try again.

“Want me to hold him still so you can cut off his balls?” Caed offers, a dark glint in his eyes.

“Do I look so pathetic that you think I need help with that?” she counters.

He holds his hands up in surrender. “No. But I’d enjoy it.”

Prae’s posture loosens, then she sighs. “We can’t. The moment a pair of Fomorians tortures a fae prince, we lose all the progress we’ve made at convincing the fae that we’re not evil barbarians.”

“I don’t care—” I begin, but she stops me with a look.

“I do. When this war is over, if Caed lives, you’ll be the queen of more than just the four courts and Elfhame. And if one sixth of your people are hated by the rest, that’s not going to go well for them.”

My gut turns to ice. “What are you…?”

But she doesn’t explain, just looks at Caed.

Caed, who’s Elatha’s heir. The heir to the crown of the Fomorian Mountains. My mate.

And if Elatha dies and Caed lives… she’s right. I would become Nicnevin to the Fomorians and the fae. I probably am already, given that I connected the mountains to Danu. How can I be the high queen of a court built around a metal that makes me sick?

“How would that even work?” I ask myself, pacing away, before realising I’ve been distracted entirely from what’s really important right now. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. If we get to that point and I have to order the Autumn Court into line, I will.”

Prae smirks. “As much as I love the backbone you’re developing, that’s a shortsighted approach. My point is, Illidwen has seen you walking the streets with your Fomorian mate without any of your other Guards. They’ve seen Caed and Jaro sparring almost every single day this week, and they’ve watched me and Gryffin flirting openly. Until this mess happened, we were doing really well at proving co-existence is possible.”

She heads for her closet and pulls out… a normal dress. One which covers every inch of her down to her thighs.

If that wasn’t an indication that not quite everything is as right with her as she’d like to have us believe, I don’t know what is.

“Do you want to stay?” I ask, but the idea is disquieting. “I don’t. This pilgrimage has gone on long enough.”

“You’re not ready to leave,” Prae and Caed say at exactly the same time, and I have to resist the urge to bang my head against the wall.

“I know that.” Deep breaths. “But Mab’s reports from Elfhame aren’t good. You said Elatha was bringing an armada, and we’ve already wasted months… What’s worth more to Florian? Four armies, or one Nicnevin?”

“Three armies,” Prae corrects, quietly. “Unless you want to give my uncle unfettered access to all the food and wood he could ever need to equip his troops, then the Autumn Court forces need to stay put.”

“A big enough defeat here would see him withdraw in the short term,” Caed argues, then sighs. “I know Prae needs a moment, but making these kinds of decisions without the dour knight and your púca seems stupid. They’ve been on the front lines for the last week. They’ll have a better idea of what we need to do.”

Sighing, I turn towards Maeve, who’s still standing quietly by the door.

“Want me to help you kick Cress out of her own war room?” she asks, grinning.

It looks like that’s exactly what I’m going to have to do.

“It can wait until morning.” I look at the dark sky outside with a sigh, before turning to Prae. “I think we both need rest.”