Page 95 of The Kingdom Cursed By Iron

She releases a hissing laugh and lifts her goblet to me in a toasting gesture.

“Fair point.”

I glance at Ruskin in time to see his approving expression, then duck my head and take a bite of my nice, human food.

It turns out that most of the people at the table are cousins of some sort—relations of Lisinder, close ones as well as more distant kin. The king takes some time to relate the family tree, but I quickly lose track, distracted by the sight of Climent, the one who accused me of cheating in my trial, at the end of the table. Lisinder describes him as a cousin a few times removed, and I can’t help but think I’d wish he was removed from this gathering. He leans towards the fae at his side, a silver-haired man who seems to spend most of the evening watching Ruskin and whispering to Climent.

“It’s a shame your father didn’t get a chance to have more children,” Lisinder says, after he’s finished listing the patriarchs in a particular bloodline. He searches Ruskin’s face, as if looking for his brother in it. “Lucan was elated when you came along.”

Ruskin inclines his head in tactful acknowledgment.

“He would have had more time if the Seelie hadn’t offed him,” says a cousin who Lisinder introduced as Jasand. He emphasizes the comment with a stab of his fork into some meat.

The volume of conversation at the table dips, with several pairs of Unseelie eyes now fixed on Ruskin, looking for his reaction.

“I’d be careful about making claims you have no evidence for,” Ruskin says, his voice low but steady.

“Come on,” says Jasand with a wide, hard smile, as if they were sharing a particularly mean inside joke. “A wolf attack? From what I’ve heard of Prince Lucan, that’s the last way he would’ve gone. You must’ve at least suspected your stepfather.”

I try not to gape, but as I glance around, I realize I’m the only one who looks surprised by this turn in the conversation. It seems talking freely about delicate subjects is normal in Unseelie.

Ruskin blinks, and I wonder if he’s feeling the same disconnect.

“I had no love of Ilberon, as I think you’d know, considering that I killed him for endangering the queen.” A murmur of approval goes up around the table. I feel like I’ve slipped into an alternate universe, where murder is discussed so casually. “However, I do not have a good reason to think he was behind my father’s death,” Ruskin adds. “Yes, he disapproved of the match—but he was far from the only one. It would take me ten lifetimes to investigate everyone who said something against it.”

“Of course,” says Pyromey. “And such an investigation would not be confined to the Seelie Court. If we were to demand that the prince put his own people under scrutiny, we would have to permit him to go digging into our private affairs here too, wouldn’t we? There were plenty of Unseelie who were against the marriage. Isn’t that right, Uncle?”

Lisinder nods. “It is. There were many who said—loudly and many times over—that my agreeing to marry an Unseelie heir to the Seelie High Queen was madness. Isn’t that so, Lord Turis?”

The silver-haired fae beside Climent throws us all a calculating look. “Very true, Your Majesty.”

I get the sense that Lisinder called out Turis because he spoke out in that way, but other than sharing a long look, both men seem unfazed by the confrontation and the conversation moves on without incident. We’re served another course, and I can’t help but notice that even with all this talk of murder and politics, the meal is generally less tense than any I’ve had with the Seelie Court. When I watch Ruskin speak with his cousins, he seems more at ease too, relaxing the mask. When the dinner is done and we leave, Ruskin has an inscrutable smile on his face.

“What’s so funny?” I ask. The chill between us has thawed, and I don’t think we have just our activities before dinner to thank for it. The meal united us, putting us on the same side for the first time in days.

“It’s not funny, so much as curious,” he says. “Being here is...confusing for me. I’m starting to think that sometimes I understand these people better than the ones I rule over.”

“I can see that,” I say.

“You can?” He sounds surprised.

“The Seelie are refined and polite—for the most part. But they’ll turn around and stab you in the back just as soon as say hello. No offense,” I add.

“I can hardly argue when that very thing has almost happened to you in my court,” he says wryly.

“On the other hand, it seems like the Unseelie could challenge you to a brutal fight at any moment, but at least they’ll be straight with you about it.”

“And you think that behavior defines me better?” he asks quietly.

“I think you’ve suppressed one side for a long time, and finding it again might be bringing you some balance.”

Ruskin doesn’t speak much during our walk back to our rooms, but for a change the silence doesn’t seem tense or strained. Instead, when we part ways, I think he’s thinking very hard about what I’ve said.

Chapter 29

The cold wind whips at my hair, tugging it around my face. I pull a ribbon from my pocket, fastening it back and trying not to think about the steep drop to my left.

“Do we really need to do this all the way up here?” I call to Maidar over the whistling air.

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