It took all of his self-control to walk back into that banquet hall and not follow Marai up to her bedroom. But when he returned, the party was still in full swing. The musicians continued their upbeat melodies, the remaining nobles roared with laughter, and the wine kept pouring. No one had missed him.
But Nieve, Nosficio, and Aresti were nowhere in sight.
Suspicion brewing, Ruenen walked to the high table where Goso cackled with his Greltan colleagues.
“Have you seen the Queen?”
Goso blinked at him; the focus on his eyes going in and out. “Uh . . . the Queen was . . .” He pointed up at her vacant seat.
His assistant leaned towards Ruenen with a twitch in his shoulders. “I saw Her Majesty leave the room a few minutes ago with the vampire and the other faerie woman.”
Icy fear coursed through Ruenen’s blood. “Was she taken against her will?”
The assistant shook his head. His face flushed beet red. “No, she . . . led them out, herself.”
“Not to worry, Your Highness,” came a voice from the shadows. The Master of Spies snorted beneath his mask, leaning against the far wall. “That vampire has been here more times than I should tell you. Our queen can handle herself.”
Floored by his nonchalant response, Ruenen bit the inside of his cheek.
Should I go after them? She’d never admit it, but Marai would be furious if anything happened to Aresti.
“There are guards stationed outside her door,” the Master of Spies continued, sensing Ruenen’s agitation. “If there’s any trouble, they will intervene.”
That did little to ease Ruenen’s mind. If Nieve and Aresti wanted to partake in . . . whatever they were doing with Nosficio, it wasn’t his place to stop them.
With a huff, Ruenen sat back down at the high table and poured himself more wine.
Chapter 19
Marai
She didn’t sleep. Not when the feel of Ruenen’s hands and lips across her body kept her mind from settling. Marai patrolled the corridors all night, long after the party ceased and the King’s Guard stood at attention in front of Ruenen’s door. She climbed into bed in the blue light of early morning, but the bedsheets chafed against her sensitive skin. Even in the cold, Marai kicked them off.
A copper dawn arrived, and Marai dressed back in her boring, shapeless brown sack of a dress. The blue gown she’d been forced into the previous night was beautiful, expertly made, with silver thread. She’d never worn such finery before, but it felt wrong on her body. That woman in the banquet hall, who had garnered so many eyes, had been trying to hide her discomfort. Trying not to make a mistake. Trying not to fail Ruenen in this diplomatic mission.
I’d give anything for my Butcher blacks . . .
Marai hastily braided her hair back. Gods, she never wore her hair loose. The castle servant had suggested it, and Marai, too busy staring at the blonde stranger in the mirror, let the woman brush through her tangled locks.
She crept out of the room before any servants came to check on her. Similar to the castle at Kellesar, people already bustled about. Servants and guards didn’t look twice at her as she ventured out into the snow. Flurries littered the air, falling faster and faster the longer Marai walked through the frozen gardens. The boughs of trees glittered in white-blue hoarfrost.
“You’re an early riser, as well,” came Nieve’s voice from behind her. Marai spun to see the queen striding towards her, red hair aflame, wrapped in a white fur coat and hat, skins from the notorious white bears of Grelta. Marai had fought one off months ago at the start of her journey with Ruenen.
Marai bowed. “Habit, Your Grace.”
“I’m glad to have a moment alone with you. It’s a rare opportunity, indeed, to meet any of the fae folk.”
“We’re both uncommon species,” Marai bit out before she could stop herself.
Nieve’s eyes widened, then she grinned. “I can see why he likes you.”
Marai stilled. “Who?”
“Well, the prince, of course, but I meant Nosficio.”
Nosficio? Marai raised an eyebrow.
“When he first appeared in my room after so many months, I was tempted to stake him right then and there,” Nieve said, leading Marai leisurely through the glittering frosted garden. “But he mentioned the Prince of Nevandia had surfaced, with a faerie at his side. He spoke of you with genuine awe. Nosficio is a difficult creature to read, but I could see in his eyes that he’s interested in you and your well-being.” Marai pulled a face, making Nieve chuckle. “No, girl, I don’t mean in that way. Nosficio said you reminded him of an old friend. A creature like him doesn’t have friends, but it was because of you that I decided to write back to Prince Ruenen.”
“I’m merely a bodyguard,” Marai said, but the words felt half-hearted. She was someone: Queen Meallán’s descendant, the progeny to her power, and perhaps even the faerie throne.
“You’re wrong, Lady Marai,” said Nieve, giving her that ice-blue stare. “I think you may well be the difference maker in this war. You and Prince Ruenen are changing the rules. You inspired a vampire to join your cause, for Lirr’s sake. He said you may be the only one able to stop Rayghast. I’m sending my troops off to battle because I believe in you.”
“I could be one of those wild, deviant faeries everyone thinks we are.”
Nieve chuckled again. “For better or worse, I trust Nosficio’s word.”
“Why?” Marai asked, unable to stop herself. “What happened between you and Nosficio?”
Nieve’s face shuttered for a moment. The confidence she’d been displaying wilted slightly. “Life is difficult when you have a sick husband who cannot perform his duties. He hasn’t for some time . . .” Nieve’s eyes glistened, but she shook off whatever emotion she’d been letting in. “I respect my husband. Ours was a friendship before we were ever married; rare in the royal world. He remains my dearest friend, but there was never attraction or passion between us. Maes and I agreed many years ago, after his symptoms first appeared, that I could meet with whomever I wanted.”
Shock froze Marai to the spot. Nieve plucked a sharp icicle, long as a dagger, from a branch, twirling it in her gloved fingers. It reminded Marai of a wooden stake.
“I met Nosficio two years ago. At first, it was flirtation. Something forbidden I knew I would not touch. But he was persistent. Charming. I’d never known a vampire to be so . . . respectful. Considering the terrible things I’d heard about him, I doubted his intentions. Then, our relationship became strictly physical. And it worked fine for both of us . . . until he bit me in a moment of bloodlust.”
Marai couldn’t stop the loud gasp from escaping. Nosficio could have killed Nieve, turned her into a vampire.
No wonder she hired a mercenary . . .
