Page 108 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

“And why is that?” He asks, that seductive wickedness seeping into his smirk. “Is there something else you’d rather me conserve my energy for?”

“Absolutely.” I wink. I glance at my father. “Later. After we’ve found our rooms for the night.”

Understanding my silent request, Asheros nods. For as long as I live, I’ll always appreciate his ability to know what it is I need without having to voice it. “I’ll see you then.”

Giving my hands one last squeeze, Asheros slips past me, out of the library.

Turning to face my father, I make my way to the hearth and sit on the floor beside his chair like I used to when he’d tell Vestella and me stories as children. My anxiety still grips my chest, but I keep it at bay for now. If Tanyl is truly the red-eyed male we’ve been searching for, and he has the ability to summon crepulnai, then this could very well be the last time I see my father. I don’t want to ruin this moment.

“Your mate speaks very highly of you,” Father says, his voice a warm rumble. “It’s been very pleasant speaking with him.”

This is one of the things I’ve always appreciated about my father. No matter how much time has passed, how much has changed, or what’s happened between us, it still feels as though we’ve picked up right where we left off. There’s no need for an explanation or a justification. I can just exist as I am. He’s the one person—aside from Asheros, now—who I know would never judge me harshly or make me feel lesser, no matter what I’ve done.

“He’s bad for my ego, to say the least,” I quip with a laugh. My tone softens. “I’m glad you enjoyed talking to him.”

Father takes my hand. “I truly did, my brave girl. He’s good for you.”

A smile rises to my cheeks. “You think so?”

Father nods, his lip curved upward. “I do. He sees you. Truly sees you and loves you anyway. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. That, and for you to see the things he sees in you, in yourself.”

Taking my face into my hands, I sigh. “Yes, well, Mother… Mother makes that rather difficult.”

Father’s quiet for a moment. Then, “I won’t deny that your mother is hard on you. She’s hard on everyone.” Father’s cobalt eyes fall to his hands. “But you must know, that like you, she’s especially hard on herself.” He looks back up at me now, love brimming in his expression. “You may not see it, but you are so much like her.”

“Oh, gods,” I groan, rubbing my forehead. “That’s supposed to be a compliment?”

Father gives me a pretend frown. “Yes, it’s supposed to be a compliment.” The frown falls from his mouth, becoming something more sincere. “You, your sister, and your mother are the strongest females I have the privilege of standing beside. There is nothing you three cannot do, should you decide to do it. Leading by example, your mother instilled that in you from a young age.”

Father’s words give me pause.

“She did, didn’t she?” I murmur.

Though I’d failed numerous times—at practicing magic, at memorizing names of people and places, at softening my blunt nature—there was never anything that made me doubt whether my mother thought I could do it.

“Try again,” she would say when I was young, wiping my frustrated tears from my cheeks. “Try as many times as you need to master this.”

There’s a knowing look in Father’s expression. “Your mother and I, we both have the utmost faith in you, Lymseia. We’ve always been so proud of you, my brave girl.”

Unable to find the right words, I nod, a smile tugging at my lips. I’ve never been much good with the mushy things.

Instead, I tilt my head up to Father. “Would you tell me a story, for old times’ sake?” I may be grown, but one’s never too old to ask their father for a story.

Father beams, nodding. “Of course, of course.” He pauses, tapping his fingers against his chin. “Ah, let’s see. Once, there was a brave warrior whose twin short swords became synonymous with her name…”

In one of the guest suites, Asheros, the others, and I are positioned around the room. Kheldryn sits at the edge of the bed, with her legs crossed, while Gryska leans back on her palms. Savell leans against the far wall, in the corner, while Ronan stands by the window. Asheros is near the center of the room, less than a shoulder-width apart from me.

Eyes fixed on some spot ahead of him, Asheros presses the pads of his fingers to his chin.

“I’m telling you,” I say, my voice rough, “I know what I felt. It’s him. It must be.”

“I know, Bladesinger,” Asheros murmurs, running a hand through his white-blond hair. “I know. I’m just…” He exhales. “I don’t understand why Tanyl would do this. He’s the late High King’s brother-in-law. The current High King’s uncle. His proximity to the throne gives him great political influence he’d lose should Viridian fall.”

“I know,” I admit, my shoulders sagging with defeat. “I can’t make sense of it either.”

“In every council meeting I’ve attended with him, he’s always been so… soothing. Often annoyingly so,” Asheros says, shaking his head a little. “To think he could be capable of such merciless political machinations goes against everything I’ve come to believe about him.”

“We need to assume that everything we know is an act,” Savell says, his tone bitter. “Noble fae may not be capable of lies, but they can still deceive.”

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