Page 105 of A Court of Fire and Frost

She nods, sipping the wine as though she doesn’t have a care in the world. And I suppose she doesn’t.

I do. And everything I care about is sitting next to me. He is the fire to my ice, and I will do anything to protect him.

“What did you hear?” I ask, gently prodding to see if my mother will open up. She has been known to play a few games for a Winter Fae. This one, I’m familiar with. Act interested, and she will tell me much more than if I ignore her. All that gets me is a beating.

Her lips tilt up, a terrifying grin lighting her face. “Would it surprise you that I recently heard from your fiancé’s father?”

Chills run down my spine, and I stop moving.

I swear I hear Nathan clench his jaw so hard, a tooth cracks.

“I would be interested in hearing what he had to say,” I reply carefully.

“He told me that a certain Summer Fae male was responsible for the death of your fiancé. Dear Henrick. What a match that was.”

My mother sighs, resting her chin on her hand as her eyes take a faraway look before she continues. “I worked so hard to secure that union for you, and how do you repay me? By running away and then coming back towing thismalebehind you. Frankly, I’m quite surprised he could take down an Ice Mer nearly twice his size since he barely looks capable of breaking an icicle in half. Now, the Ice Mer King has invoked the Right of Retribution.”

I freeze. My blood chills as my mind races to catch up with the words that exited my mother’s cruel lips.

“The Right of Retribution...” I repeat, stunned. “But that hasn’t been done in over a millennium!”

I race to try to remember everything I was taught about Fae history. Sixteen hundred years ago, the heir to the Autumn Court, Hypatios, supposedly attacked and killed the Day Court’s only female heir, Parthenia. As a result, Parthenia’s grieving parents invoked the Right of Retribution.

They appointed a champion to fight for their cause against Hypatios. Legend has it that their champion fought Hypatios all day and night before falling to his death on the end of the Autumn Court heir’s sword.

She nods, her eyes glimmering with cruelty. “I hope you’ve said your final goodbyes, my dear because the Right will occur at midnight tonight.”

My mouth falls open as I stare at her. “Who.... who will your champion be?”

A violent grin lights upon her face. Her canines catch the light as she swirls her wine. “Why, you, my sweet. Why else have I been training you up to be a weapon for your entire life? Finally, you can show your sweet mother everything you’ve learned. And after this, I am sure you will be the queen I’ve always trained you to be.”

I shake as I shift in my seat and stare at Nathaniel. My eyes fill with tears as I stare at my husband of two hours. His hands are gripping the end of his seat as he watches me.

My heart is shattering into a million pieces as I look at him. It is as though I can see the bond between us binding our souls. It's taut, waiting to be destroyed by the cruelty of fate that is ready to rip us apart.

He must read something in my eyes, for he breaks his silence. “What is the Right of Retribution?” he asks.

Chapter41

I Am No Imp

NATHANIEL

Elva’s face is drained of color, and a muscle bulges from how tightly she clenches her jaw.

My gaze flickers across Akron and lands on the Queen. She is the picture of languid amusement, lounging in her overstuffed chair with one finger lazily tracing the design on her knife. “Yes, Elva, what is the Right of Retribution?” she drawls.

My new wife bites her lip.

Queen Ophelia snaps forward in her chair, her back as straight as a board. “Elva!” She barks,“Answer.” Her voice is low and feral.

“The Right of Retribution,” my wife grinds out through clenched teeth, “is an ancient Northern Court Custom. It’s a show of unity between our people. If a royal court member is murdered, they can ask the other courts to avenge the death while they are in mourning.”

The Queen taps her fingers loudly against the long wooden table. “Yes, yes.” She waves a hand dismissively. She leans back and smiles. The Warlock sips his wine, but his face is unreadable. “The council of Northern Courts has convened without deigning to include us. They sent Akron along with another messenger to notify us they want Elva to be the one to do it,” Ophelia says.

I expect Elva to scream, but her eyes glaze over, and she retreats like she’d done in the cell.

Except this time, I am with her. I can’t explain it, but somehow, I still sense her emotions, her silent presence in my mind. I know how she measures her heartbeats to avoid showing her feelings.

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