Chapter 41

Forty-One

Rhoswyn

H awkith Iceblyd is beautiful.

I thought, given her actions, that some of her cunning and guile might show on her face, but instead, she’s the living embodiment of icy elegance.

Her black lace skirt swishes prettily as she dismounts, drawing attention to the high slits at her thighs and the golden skin of her exposed abdomen. She’s wearing practically nothing, despite the cold, and I can’t tell if that’s because her fire magic keeps her warm, or because she’s wearing a glamour for the sake of appearances. Her red bustier leaves her shoulders and the upper swells of her breasts completely bare, but for the collar of rubies around her throat. She’s not a dullahan, so the necklace is an affectation, just like the matching circlet she’s wrapped into her straight blonde hair.

The entire ensemble looks ridiculous in comparison to our heavy furs, and I shiver as she eyes the corpse at Lore’s feet with the coldest amber eyes I’ve ever seen.

Drystan’s eyes are molten, like living flames. Watching them swirl with his emotions is something I’ve grown to love. In contrast, Hawkith’s remind me of fossils and ancient dead things.

In any other, less cherubic face, I could see them as the eyes of a killer who used her fever to con a child out of the most powerful male in the court. But her soft cheeks and button nose make her seem incapable of harm.

If I were still in the mortal realm, ignorant of the fae, I’d think she was one of Reverend Michael’s angels.

“Your Majesty,” she says, dropping to one knee in the deep snow. “I’m glad you’re safe. King Cedwyn sent a dozen bounty hunters after you. The fog must have slowed many of them down, but more could arrive at any moment.”

Goddess, the fog was Faerie protecting me, even when I didn’t know it was happening. I say a silent prayer of thanks to Danu.

“A dozen, you say?” Lore twirls his hat through the gaping wound with a grin. “How fortunate. Any chance we could lose the fog, pet? I like it when they know they should be running.”

The teeth-filled grin he levels my way is nothing short of predatory, and I find myself pitying my would-be kidnappers.

I honestly have no idea how my influence over the weather works, but he doesn’t seem to care. He leans down to press a deep, scorching kiss to my waiting lips before he blinks away to reap carnage and death on my enemies.

“Return to camp.” Drystan doesn’t acknowledge his mother beyond offering her a stiff nod. “Jaromir, shift and help Lore sniff out the others.”

He takes my arm and sweeps me away before I can say anything, perhaps concerned that I’ll do something stupid like thank his mother. He doesn’t need to worry. I’m wiping any and all expressions of gratitude from my vocabulary when dealing with his family.

“Son, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Hawkith’s voice is cordial, but empty, as she easily keeps pace with us. A glance shows that the hem of her dress is actually on fire, melting the snow and easing her way.

“Nicnevin Rhoswyn, Lady Hawkith Iceblyd.” Drystan’s words are just as curt. Just as soulless.

It feels like a slap in the face. Like he’s shut a part of himself away. Rationally, I know it’s probably a defensive measure, but that doesn’t make it sting less.

Out of curiosity, I relax my vision, looking for Hawkith’s aura, but there’s nothing there. She’s shielding it. Drystan is too.

The campfire’s warmth is welcome, but Hawkith’s displeasure at seeing Prae and Caed isn’t.

“Fomorians!” Her sword is out and pointed in their direction.

“My mate, Caed”—I don’t miss the way Drystan’s hand tightens on my arm at the introduction—“and his cousin, Prae,” I interrupt, hoping to nip the subject in the bud quickly. “I take it you’ve met Prince Gryffin, Prae’s mate?”

It still feels odd to introduce Gryffin as such, given the mess that was their bonding, but I’ve asked Prae a hundred times if she wants me to send him away. Her answer is always the same—she can’t make him suffer if he’s in exile.

Not that the sounds coming from their sleeping bag sound much like suffering to me… but I’m going to continue to pretend I haven’t heard them… or seen them sneaking off in the night… or sneaking kisses at the back of the group while we’re riding.

The Autumn Court prince nods once in greeting, placing himself between her and Prae like the world’s least subtle shield.

“This will not lend you credibility with Cedwyn,” Hawkith cautions. “Unless you plan on instigating changes in his court.”

“Mother.” Drystan’s snapped word earns him a bland smile.

“I simply wish to assist the Nicnevin however I can. House Iceblyd has always been Danu’s loyal servant—that’s probably why she chose one of our males to serve in the Guard.”

There is no sincerity whatsoever in the smile she levels at me, and my gut tells me that whatever delusion she’s living in to be able to say such a thing without lying makes her almost as dangerous as the paranoid king of winter.

Caed pats the pile of furs beside him, and to my surprise, Drystan releases me. I suppose he’s committed to a farcical display of unity in front of our enemies, and his mother probably fits the bill.

The second I’m seated, Caed wraps another fur around my shoulder, and Bree passes me some of the jerky that we’ve been eating on our journey. Hawkith leads her horse to where the other mounts are secured, then joins us uninvited.

“Your Majesty, I hope you weren’t expecting a warm reception when you arrive in Calimnel.” She sweeps her hair back out of her face and holds a hand out in expectation of her own food before anyone can even offer her some. “The king has long been suspicious of your absence, and now you’ve returned with a Fomorian in your Guard, I don’t expect he’ll swear the vow.”

“Mother, the Nicnevin is too tired to listen to your scheming,” Drystan starts, but Hawkith isn’t listening.

“If, however, you were to put him in his place, as you did with Queen Aiyana, and work on restructuring his court to ensure its loyalty…”

I stare her down, waiting until she looks away in false deference. “My plans are my own, but I won’t forget that you rode to warn us of this attack. Your loyalty to the crown does you credit.”

Drystan’s eyes flare with warning as I take another bite of my jerky, chewing slowly. Her boldness shocks me. I knew she disliked Cedwyn, but to so openly speak of replacing him within moments of meeting me?

It almost seems…desperate.

“Cedwyn will swear the vow,” I insist. “I am here for his armies to save Elfhame and restore peace to the five courts. I’ll be leaving as soon as I have them, and I won’t be interfering with the structure of this court unless I have no other choice.”

“The siege has gone on long enough,” she agrees. “And the Winter Court’s armies are armed and ready for battle, no matter who leads them.”

Drystan continues to burn a hole in the back of my head as we eat, and it doesn’t surprise me when he follows me away from the camp later. The fog receded the second Lore returned covered in blood, and now the stars twinkle amongst the dancing lights in the sky as I walk between the ruins.

“You disapprove,” I say quietly, passing under an arch of stone as I make my way back towards the shrine. I must be going in the right direction, because this corridor is almost untouched, except for the ice everywhere and the occasional hole in the ceiling.

“Any kind of alliance with my mother will draw Cedwyn’s ire and suspicion.”

“I have no plans to make her my ally,” I correct. “But I don’t need her as my enemy.”

“Send her back to Calimnel,” he urges. “Walking through the citadel gates with her by your side is as good as declaring civil war.”

Dipping my head in quiet acquiescence, I try to stifle the relief that blooms in my gut. I don’t want to spend a second longer in that female’s presence than I have to.

That’s probably not a good sign.

I’m distracted as we turn a corner and come face to face with a gnarled tree that takes up half of the room it’s in. I find it hard to believe that this is what anyone would consider ‘spared’ from the violence that destroyed this castle.

It’s by far the closest to desecrated of any shrine we’ve come across—and that includes the abandoned ones we’ve visited. The room around it is charred and empty of anything beyond the fragments of long-forgotten offering vessels and once-grand furniture. Above the carnage, the branches are heavy with fluffy white leaves, almost like clouds in plant form, and around the wide trunk is a ripped and torn crimson sash.

Danu’s ire stirs in my chest, her fury stoking to life. She’s been more active ever since Hawkith joined us, but this threatens to tip the scales until I lose control.

To appease her, I take a step forward, my hand outstretched already.

“Rose, don’t.”

It takes effort to turn and wrap my arms around him. The Goddess wants action or death, not peace.

“Please trust me. I have a plan.”

His whole body stiffens. “What plan?”

“One that feels right,” I promise. “I’m not going to be drawn into any of their schemes. I’m here for that vow, and I won’t let him hold it over us like Aiyana and Eero did.”

“You can’t charm him.”

“I know.” The vow has to be given freely and willingly. “But fear can be a great motivator. He’s already paranoid, right? I can work with that.”

If necessary, I’ll give him something to be afraid of. I’d rather become a nightmare than allow any of my Guard to be harmed again.

Releasing him, I return to the tree, the bark sharp and unforgiving against my palm.

“May all of Danu’s children find warmth, peace, and respite beneath these boughs,” I say softly.

I’m no longer surprised by the way that the tree shrines tend to shudder after being blessed, and Danu’s presence pulses softly, going from furious to content as the branches shake themselves out.

The tree grows, those clouds of white leaves expanding to cover the entire room, and from them, tiny vines drop down, flowers made of glimmering crystalline petals bursting into bloom.

They look like stars. Like the night sky has been unleashed in this dark and broken room.

Even the torn sash around the trunk is gone, replaced by streaks of silver that wrap around its circumference.

“Beautiful,” I whisper, allowing the peace to sink into my bones, lightening the weight that seems to follow me everywhere I go.

Drystan nods once, but his frown hasn’t dissipated, and I sigh, stepping back.

My bond to Danu quietens, and the tension, which was momentarily banished, returns.

“How long until we reach Calimnel?”

“If we ride hard? A day, but we can’t leave until daybreak. The trail that connects Mirrwyl and Cedwyn’s city is too treacherous to do in the dark.”

Once again, I stifle the urge to demand we do away with the pilgrimage and just blink to the gates. We’re so close now. One more day won’t change anything, and completing this stupid thing properly gives those who oppose me one less reason to claim I’m not a true Nicnevin.

But the shimmering line of lanterns outside stops me. This pilgrimage means something to all of those fae. I can’t even say I’ve hated all of it, even though it led to a civil war and so much pain. I’ve learned so much and seen even more. Sure, the minor royals could all do with being left alone in a room with Lore for a few hours, but the majority of the other fae I’ve met have been lovely.

No. I’m finishing this stupid thing.

“Send her back,” I decide, my plan solidifying. “Wait, tell Jaro to do it. You don’t need to talk to her. You don’t have to look at her ever again if you don’t?—”

“Rhoswyn, I am more than capable of talking to my own mother.”

“You shouldn’t have to.” Looking up into those molten eyes, I stretch onto my tiptoes and press a tiny kiss to his jawline. “They used you as a pawn, and you’re their son. I will never forgive them for that, even if you pretend not to care.”

Drystan looks down at me, his hand coming up to cup my jaw. “So fierce.”

I offer him a wide smile. “You haven’t seen what I have planned for Cedwyn yet. Just remember, you promised to let me lead tomorrow.”

His gaze sharpens, examining me for any hint of what I’m up to, but I simply lean into him, an enigmatic grin on my face.

“I love you,” I whisper softly. “And I won’t let them continue to hurt you.”