Page 80 of Fortress of Blood and Power

Heart throbbing in my temples, I heaved in a breath of air, noticing the swelling ache from Preston’s fingers had vanished. He was a healer. Calming slightly, I scanned the area I was in. I was seated on a heap of blankets before a fire, surrounded by rustling canvas. Chilly, fresh air seeped in around us, but the pleasantly crackling fire combated the cold. An opening in the tent let the smoke swirl outside and granted a clear view to the starry night sky. The rest of the tent contained a wide cot and trunk in one corner, and a table laden with papers and maps and surrounded by chairs in another.

“Drink this,” the healer said before I could formulate a question, lifting a canteen toward me.

I frowned at it before slowly taking it from him. If my captors wanted me dead, they could have killed me rather than dragging me here—which I assumed was an army campsite somewhere near Silverfrost’s capital—and they certainly wouldn’t havebothered with healing the bruising and swelling along my neck. While I swallowed down a few gulps of cool water, the healer stood and paced toward the tent opening.

I stiffened. Though I wasn’t dead and I wasn’t tied to the chair, I assumed there were guards posted outside. Kindness that healing me had been, I was still a prisoner. I wasn’t sure I wanted the man with the soothing tone to leave, not when someone worse could take his place and begin an interrogation.

“Where am I?” I demanded.

The man paused, turning slowly. “I have a feeling you’ve already gathered you’re in our camp.”

“Far from the castle?”

Brow furrowed, his eyes dipped toward my neck before returning to my face. “Hate to be parted from your doting fiancé?”

“I hate to be kidnapped.”

His lips twitched like he was holding back a smile. “We will be happy to answer your questions, but there are a few others who would like to be present. Let me tell them you’re conscious and...feeling talkative.”

I tensed nervously as the man slipped out of the tent. Sitting up straight in my chair, I felt the back of my head. No lump or ache. He must have healed that injury too. I stretched my mind toward my magic, wondering if there were enchantments placed on the camp that would prevent me from drawing on it. But before I could summon any ice or snow, the healer was back, trailed by three more people.

The first made my heart leap with momentary hope—a human woman, with long, black hair bound in a crown braid and intelligent blue-grey eyes. There wasn’t a hint of that blank, glazed look the glamoured servants in Silverfrost possessed. But she was clothed in a finely embroidered tunic and trousers in shades of crimson, black, and gold—matching the attire thehealer and the two others, both also fae men, wore. Perhaps the fact that she was human wouldn’t endear me to her, not if she was apparently allied with the Ashwood kingdom closely enough to sport their colors.

Behind her, a tall man with a handsome face that looked carved from stone and inky hair studied me with sharp eyes. Something in his gaze made a chill creep over my skin that had nothing to do with the cool air gusting into the tent. He was not one to underestimate.

At his side, a shorter man with blond hair and warm brown eyes crossed his arms. A smile played about his face.

I wasn’t sure which troubled me more—the emotionless look of the first man or the amused expression of the second. Did he find kidnapping women to beamusing?

“We’re not here to hurt you,” the blond man said, his tone friendly. His gaze snapped to where I held my hands before me, fingers curled into fists.

I glanced down and realized why he was grinning: I’d encased my hands entirely in ice. Cheeks heating, I lowered my hands and focused on retracting my magic, waiting for my fingers to thaw before tangling them in the skirts of my dress to warm them.

“Not unless you hurt us,” the dark-haired man ground out.

Eyes flashing, the woman elbowed him. “That’s not how you reassure a woman you’ve kidnapped,” she snapped. Schooling her features into kindness, she stepped forward. “But Holden is right. We didn’t bring you here to hurt you. My name is Elle Blackford, princess of Ashwood.” She gestured to the cold-faced man. “This is my husband, Prince Fitz.” The blond man moved closer. “That’s his brother, Prince Holden.” Lastly, she turned to the healer. “And this is Kinsey, a trusted friend...and, as you know, a healer.”

Elle paused a few feet away from me. She waited a moment, as if hoping I’d supply my own name. When I didn’t, she continued with her story. “We heard the rumors about a human being taken by the Silverfrosts—a woman with magic. But we had no idea what was true or even if you were betrothed to the king willingly until Fitz saw him attacking you. That was when we knew we had to get you out.”

I watched her carefully. “If you meant me no harm, why knock me senseless and drag me out of there?”

Elle shot Holden a look, and he shuffled on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t see well in the storms Elle and Fitz wield, and while searching for you...well, I thought at first I’d come upon King Preston.”

I folded my hands in my lap, listening to the logs snap in the fire as silence settled over us. Did they want an apology from me? A story about my life and who I was? Gratitude for carrying me unconscious out of the castle?

At last, I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. “What happened when you invaded? Were many of the guests killed? Did you slay Preston and Nerissa?” I frowned thoughtfully. “If the castle is now yours, wouldn’t we be there?”

“As far as we know, the king and queen still live,” Prince Fitz answered, his tone a low rumble. “Not enough of our forces have converged on the capital to launch a full-scale attack. We were too outnumbered. Instead, we settled for finding you.” His gaze latched onto me pointedly.

As if they found me significant. Because they sympathized with humans, like Garrick had hinted? Or because they knew I was the true heir to the throne?

“And Preston got away,” Holden muttered bitterly.

“There was infighting as we left,” Kinsey interjected, and I turned to him, my attention rapt. The rebels must have chosen to make a move, perhaps thinking the chaos could be best usedto their advantage. “But we didn’t linger. I couldn’t say who won the struggle, or how many perished in it.”

I sucked in a breath, thinking of Preston’s threats. If he and Nerissa lived, they knew of Aspen’s plotting and would ensure she suffered for it.

“How long has it been?” I asked, glancing up at the hole in the tent, trying to catch a glimpse of the moon.

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