Page 55 of A Bond in Blood

I stepped forward, ripping my cloak from him. “I’m a princess. You will respect me, or I will use my Gods-given-right to request you be thrown in the dungeon.”

Bjorn laughed, throwing his head back. “You believe yourself to have power in the Unseelie court?”

I mimicked his laugh, allowing my voice to lift in the high squeal that his kind had.

“You fool.” I grinned. “I am half Seelie fae. I am the daughter of a king whose island was granted to his lineage under Oberon’s just hand.”

The man shrank while my words left my lips.

“I am a favored guest of not just Queen Mab, but Queen Titania. Have you heard the wreckage Oberon’s wives lay upon men?”

Bjorn's eyes darted behind me and Frode let out a breath.

“I will call upon them. I will use whatever power I have, and you will leave this island to rot in the dungeon of the Seelie. Did you know they drug you with their wine in those dungeons? Altering your senses, making you believe you are no longer attached to your own body. It drives the mind mad. Until one day—” I snapped my fingers and Bjorn jumped. “That mind collapses.”

The creature lifted his lips, barring his canines at me. “You use words ofwar, princess. Words I’m sure my king would gladly remove your head for.”

Frode stepped forward. “I’m sure our king would remove your cock and then your head for attempting to make this woman your victim.”

The Unseelie hissed then shrank back into the shadows, not uttering another word as he left.

My shoulders slumped once alone with Frode.

The healer bowed his head, and I pulled his cloak off then returned mine to my shoulders.

“Where are you headed, princess?” he asked.

Nervously, I glanced at the doors. “A swim,” I admitted.

Frode’s lips turned with a smile. “The king’s docks are rather filthy. Where did you intend to swim?”

My hands shook when I pulled the scroll from my cloak pocket, unrolling it and pointing. “I’ve been in the library,” I began. “I love history, especially maps.”

Frode laughed. “You’ve been learning about our island.”

I nodded. “It’s what I do when I’m not following Olen asUlrich’s Wraith Whore.”

“What have you learned?”

I gulped. “There’s a hidden passage here.” I pointed to a dark spot just beyond the palace gates. “You can access it by a door near the gates. From my understanding, it leads to this hidden cove.”

My finger traced the map and the barely visible markings. I didn’t really need it any longer. Not after weeks of studying and committing it to my memory.

At first I’d thought I was mistaken when I noticed the lines, but the more I studied the map, I’d grown more confident in my observation. Whomever had drawn it had meant to keep the passage and cove hidden, at least to those without a knowing mind for cartography.

“Where did you learn to decipher maps?” Frode asked, looking up from the markings.

I rolled it once more, placing it into the safety of my pocket.

“My tutors. Growing up on that secluded Island, I developed a yearning to see the world. But my father only allowed trips to Aesir once a year during the harvest moon.”

“Your birthday is near the harvest moon,” Frode replied.

I casted my eyes down. “I’m aware. It’s my favorite celebration. The harvest blood moon is a shade of orange-red that I see in my dreams every single night until I can look upon it again.”

Returning my eyes to meet the healer’s, I cocked my head. “How did you know that?”

Frode lifted his shoulders. “I may have already been Ulrich’s healer the day you were born, but we all knew the stories. Anyone from Nóatún mourned the loss of a great queen whilewe celebrated a new queen born under the strength of such a powerful force of nature.”

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