Page 15 of Atop the Faerie Throne
I was raised in the toxic bowels of Calimnel. This male—this cocky, impudentyouth—should not be able to get under my skin the way he does.
Rose loves him. Rose somehow lovesme, and I won’t give that up because his stupid ass is insufferable. Turning, I pin him with a glare that would make a lesser male quake in his boots.
“I came for her. If I forgive you, it’s for her. Do you understand?”
For once, his turquoise eyes are deadly serious as he says. “She is all.”
Finally, something we can agree on.
Six
Rhoswyn
“Still no news from Florian?” I ask as we gather around the war table in Calimnel the day after interrogating Caed. It’s relatively quiet. Ashton, Prae, and Gryffin are the only other fae here besides my Guard and me.
“Actually…” Ashton begins, then trails off, glancing down at his hands with a deep sigh.
Jaro stiffens, his arms tightening around my waist.
“Word came from Orvendel,” the winter king finally admits. “The survivors made it through the tunnel, and there weren’t many of them.”
“Do we have names?” Jaro asks, his voice cracking.
Oh Goddess, his mother and his sisters were all in the city, and his brothers were knights.
“We don’t have a list of the fallen, but most civilians are said to have been evacuated. Florian and most of his knights stayed behind to get as many fae out as they could.”
A subtle whine permeates the room, vibrating against my spine, and I rub his arms soothingly. Both of us are worried about the ones we love, and we’re not the only ones.
“Stupid, noble fucking fairy prince—” Prae begins, but Gryffin shushes her.
“We’ll get him back, sweetheart. Then we’ll give him shit for getting caught in the first place.”
“Oooh, if you’re spanking the knight commander, can I watch?” Lore asks, from his spot hanging from the ice beam above us. “Hedidstick me in a dungeon, after all. I’ll pay double if you use a wooden spoon!”
“What the fuck?” Gryffin mutters, even as Prae rolls her eyes.
“No, redcap. You can’t. And a spoon? Really? I’m not here to fulfil your peasant fantasies. You have your own mate for that.”
“That’s nowhere near as funny.” Lore blinks down to kiss my cheekbone, blinking back so fast that I doubt anyone else even noticed.
A nauseating cocktail of fear and amusement battle within me. I can only imagine the headaches my steadfast eldest brother will experience, dealing with both Prae and Gryffin, but he has to be alive for that to happen.
“Rescuing Florian, and any other captives, is our main objective,” I say, breaking up their byplay. “Elatha likes to parade his toys around. There’s a good chance he’s still alive.”
The way I was forced to attend all of those sickening gatherings in Fellgotha supports that theory, at least.
Rescue Florian, fulfil Caed’s orders, and reclaim the city. Seems easy enough—not.
“Troops from my court are already marching to Orvendel as we speak,” Ashton says, and a snowflake-shaped piece on the map glows softly in answer.
It’s enchanted to follow the troops in real time, but depressingly, they’re not even halfway down the mountain yet.Fortunately, the flower token representing Spring is already by the great lake, along with a pillar representing the Temple Guard, with Cressida’s leaf shape steadily skirting around the city to join them.
“What’s happening in Siabetha?” Drystan demands, and I lean back even farther into Jaro’s strength as the dullahan paces the length of the table. “Torrance must’ve found his way back by now.”
No one has forgotten the other threat on the board. Summer’s rebellion means we can’t take all of our forces to Elfhame, and everyone is concerned that Eero will rush to Elatha’s aid.
The summer king didn’t strike me as a foolish male. I can’t see him trusting the Fomorians. Nor can I really see him rushing to their side unless something in the bargain compelled him to.
