“Isiah, did you hear me?” Thom asks again, squeezing my arm.
I answer flatly, “Yes, I heard you. It’s worse than we feared.”
He lets go of my arm, and my shadows retreat. Thom says what he found is terrible, but I’m not sure what could be worse than watching Grace on the dais, so terrified. Your magic shouldn’t hurt you; it’s a part of you, and the fact Niethal has caused her to fear it is afuckingcrime.
“I am going to kill him,” I whisper as I stare at Niethal and his smug expression.
Mikal leans toward me, following my line of sight, and grunts, “Be my guest. Kill him, but not here in front of the kings as witnesses.”
I let out a long, low sigh. He’s right. Another time, another place. But when I get my hands on him, I will do far worse than the pain he’s causing Grace.
She sways and takes a small step, trying to secure her footing, before turning in my direction. Her eyes meet mine, begging for help, and it rips me open.
I push a thought to her and hope whatever connection we have works when we are awake. It’s a memory of a place my mother and father took me to when I was a child: a cabin by a frozen lake, surrounded by snow-swept mountains. We traveled there for Yule when I was eight, one of the few times my father acted like one. The wind blowing off the lake was freezing as I played in the snow, and as evening fell, my mother’s lilting voice echoed off the mountains, calling me inside. Even now, the memory sends a chill along my spine.
Grace’s eyes widen, the white showing around her molten-gold irises, before closing. As if someone had snipped a string, she collapses, flames extinguishing as she hits the ground.
When I take a step forward, Mikal and Thom grab my arms. I don’t resist, but Niethal notices our movements and smirks.
Bastard.
He calls for a guard to come forward, and I watch as Reagan moves toward the dais. “Take Lady Grace to her quarters. It appears we need to work on her magic. I’ll come by after I finish here.”
Reagan gently lifts her and carries her back through the door she entered only hours ago. Niethal turns to the crowd, chin held high and a broad grin on his face. “Lady Grace will be instrumental in retaking our former glory. With the last magic-wielding descendant of House Anaeris, we will break the borders surrounding our cities and rejoin Esmarae, reforming it in our image. It is time we reminded humans that their fairy tales are not merely bedtime stories but true warnings of our strength. Who amongst you stands with me?”He looks around the room, meeting every stare.
King Briar steps forward, tucking his long blond hair behind an ear before grinning. “Aye, the Kingdom of Tyrone stands with you. We have hidden in the mountains for too long while humans spread wide through the valleys. I am sick of the snow-capped peaks. I believe war would do wonders to warm my blood.” His green eyes glow as he eagerly rubs his hands and rejoins his court. The others in the audience whisper in hushed, excited tones, and my gut tightens.
When King Holford steps forward, the surrounding crowd shrinks back, giving him a wide berth. He quirks his scarred eyebrow and nods. “We stand with the fae of this world. I won’t allow the citizens of Culhan to be held prisoner, locked behind borders, any longer. We will join the cause.”
Members of King Briar’s and Holford’s courts clamber together, clasping each other’s shoulders.
That leaves only King Tullid and me. I glance across the room to find him already staring at me, looking just as wary.
Niethal must sense our apprehension because he says in a soothing voice, “It is okay if you have questions. Please, I invite you both to stay a few extra days. Let us discuss your hesitations because our kingdoms will need to be united if we are to retake our true home.” He scans the crowd, meeting each of the king’s gazes. “I invite you all to extend your stays here in Selen. Let us meet again tomorrow to discuss this in more depth.” When his eyes meet mine, he sneers, “Even if only representatives are present.”
Without another word, Niethal waves a hand in the air, and the orchestra resumes playing a waltz. He strides from the dais towards the side door, the same door from which Grace just left. I want to stop him from leaving, to keep him from going to her.
I can only hope she is all right.
CHAPTER 13
GRACE
T
he powdery snow lands on my outstretched palm and instantly melts, leaving behind a tingle of coolness as it seeps into my skin.
Before me is an enormous frozen lake that shimmers like diamonds in the fading light of dusk, and beyond are snow-covered mountains so tall they nearly scrape the sky.
There’s something magical about this place. I look skyward and let the snowflakes gather in my eyelashes and smile.
“Grace.”
My head snaps down, scanning the snowy field around me. I could have sworn someone just whispered. The snow crunches underfoot as I trudge toward the lake but stop short of the shore. I should be freezing, still in my gown, but the coolness soothes me. A gust of air blows across the lake, whipping my hair violently, and it’s so loud in my ears I almost miss it, but there it is again—a faint voice.
It’s a caress against my mind, and familiar—comforting, even.
My steps are erratic as I search for the source of the whisper. The next time the voice sounds, it’s familiar.