Page 54 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

Though I can’t see it myself, I feel the crease forming between my brows. “His ears—”

“They’re pointed, like ours, I know. Some demi-fae inherit more fae-like traits than others.”

My eyes widen. “Ah, I see.” Hesitating, I press my lips together. Dread fills my stomach. Though I know where this is going, I ask anyway. “What happened?”

For a moment, Asheros doesn’t speak. Just when I think he’ll refuse to answer, he clears his throat. “He’s the son of a human courtesan in Greyhelm,” Asheros lowers his voice some more. “His father has never, not once, taken interest in him. Hell, I doubt Savell even knows his father. That male left his mother to raise him on her own.” He sighs, breath heavy with the gravity of his words. “But, the work of a courtesan doesn’t pay well, and all too often, Savell was left to raise himself.”

I lower my eyes and press the heel of my palms to my thighs, curling my fingers inward.

Asheros takes a moment before continuing. “When he was barely out of his childhood years, his mother died from illness. Still no word from his father. The fae in the city saw him on the streets, ragged, scraggly, starving. They knew he was one of theirs yet, they did nothing for him.”

I can’t see Asheros, but the venom and disgust in his tone is enough to tell me his mouth is curling with loathing. “They saw his human heritage as a stain upon them. And so, they let a boy struggle each and every day, just to take another breath.”

“What of the humans?” I ask, my own revulsion rising to the surface.

“That’s the cruel irony of it all.” Asheros laughs, but the sound is devoid of humor, a bitter shell. “Some humans helped where they could, but the miners didn’t have much to spare. Others ignored him, no better than the fae.”

The fervor with which he speaks moves me, and had I not been sitting with my back to him, I would be compelled to look him in the eyes.

“My father and I were passing through the city square upon our return to the Larmanne Manor,” he says slowly, as if he’s reliving the day. “In truth, I can’t recall why my father stopped. I dismounted my horse and told Savell that if he came to the Larmanne Manor gates before dawn the next morning, I would give him work, warm food, and a place to sleep.”

“A servant’s position?” I ask.

“No. The role of my personal assistant.” Asheros’s voice lifts, and there’s a smile in his words. “He’s held that position ever since.”

Feeling lighter, I relax my hands. “Does your father know?”

“He must. I don’t know how he couldn’t. Savell has always accompanied me unless I ask him to step out when discussing private matters.”

Confused, I cock my head, the horse’s steady trot a soft, even rhythm in my ears. “How have I never seen him at High Keep when you’ve come for council meetings?”

Asheros casually adjusts his grip on the reins, and I can’t help but get distracted by the way his arms lightly brush against my sides. “When my father and I leave Greyhelm, Savell keeps an eye on things for me.”

I’d once thought Asheros cold and indifferent.

Now, I’m beginning to see how wrong I was.

Warmth seeps into my chest, a flicker of surprise at its core. Perhaps he’s beginning to let me see what lies beneath the mask he wears.

“You return his trust.”

“I do.” Asheros is quiet for a moment, before clearing his throat. “You know, for all his talk and supposed unwillingness to help you find Vorr’s killer, I know he’s glad we’ve changed course.”

“Really? Why is that?” I ask.

“Cryssa and Viridian’s union, their reign…” Asheros’s voice slows. “It gives him hope. It gives me hope. Hope for a better world where humans and fae can see past the shape of the other’s ears and look beyond the simple or finely made clothes the other wears.” A pause. “If Viridian abdicated the throne and someone else took over, that hope would be squandered.”

Cryssa and Viridian’s love broke Vorr’s curse. Their love brought Cryssa back from the cold clutches of death. Their love united a demi-fae and noble fae, and, in a way, the Gold and Bronze Courts, two Houses known to be rivals, despite Maelyrra’s rejection of Cryssa.

If love could do all of that, what else could it do for this kingdom?

“The bonds of love are stronger than any force in this world,” I murmur. A second thought comes from somewhere deep, in the corners of my mind, like a child that’s been too afraid to speak.

What could a love like that do for the wounds of my past?

“Do you truly believe that, Bladesinger?” Asheros’s voice is ripe with an emotion I can’t seem to place. “That love can save us all?”

His question gives me pause. For most of my life, I’ve relied on Ceren’s training and held tightly to those principles. To believe in what can be seen and heard. To depend only on my own skill and that of my fellow Guards. More than once, those lessons have saved my life.

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