“It will be easy,” he answers with confidence. “Just as soon as you help your little mouse reclaim her throne.”
Episode Seventy-Seven
NO QUESTIONS ASKED
BRAN
When Baspin suggests Jessie reclaim her throne as heir apparent to the Winter Court, it’s painfully obvious just how distracted I’ve been.
Not for one second did I entertain the idea that Jessie might take back her court.
I was more focused on keeping her alive and saving my brother.
And keeping my little mouse all to myself.
How fucking oblivious I’ve been.
And maybe a little bit of a selfish prick, too.
I know how war works and there are always two sides, always people who rally around whoever they think can win so they can suck off whatever power they can in the war or the victory after.
Baspin is no different.
Hell, Damien and I have done the same over the centuries, aligning ourselves with this house or that, elevating ourselves until we no longer had to worry about our own sovereignty.
I can’t really blame Baspin, but I am suspicious of him.
“You’re suggesting that once we rescue Jessie, we fight.”
It’s not a question. And he doesn’t deny the truth of it. He can’t.
“She’s not ready,” I admit.
“She can be,” he answers. “With the right teacher.”
“Are you suggesting you’re the teacher?” Damien asks. “You beg for a title and yet think you’re capable enough to teach a Winter Court princess how to use the power of her birthright?”
Baspin smiles at my brother, like he’s been waiting for this challenge for hours, days, maybe months.
“I have no title, true, but I did serve in the Winter Court.”
“In what capacity?” I ask.
“I was the king’s personal servant and when he needed to practice using his power, he used it on me. I know what it feels like. I can guide Jessie.”
I glance at my brother. We immediately know what the other is thinking. We are no match for an Unseelie prince, or worse, a Seelie queen. There is no way to go back to how things were before. The gate has been opened and the fae have Jessie. The only way out of this is through.
“You must know we can’t pay the price you’re asking for,” I tell Baspin. “I don’t have the power to hand out fae titles.”
He nods. “But you have the power to persuade the one who does.”
It would be for her own good, I tell myself. If the cost of saving Jessie is a title to some low ranking fae, then the price is right.
“Fine.” I come down the steps and offer Baspin my hand. “You take us to the fae realm. You help us rescue Jessie. Then and only then will we revisit the discussion of you getting a title of lord.”
He considers this for a moment, then slips his hand into mine. I am far colder than he is, and I catch the faint tremor of his shoulders from the chill.
Just a little reminder that I too am powerful, that I am not one to fuck over.