“Nosficio hadn’t eaten in days. I’d refused to allow him to feed on my staff and subjects. I didn’t realize that he was starving himself to remain in my company. The bite wasn’t bad, especially since I stabbed Nosficio the minute his teeth clamped down on my neck, but my children saw the bite. They’d watched a vampire nearly kill their mother. Nosficio fled, and I barred him from ever entering Lirrstrass again. I hired a mercenary to send him the message to keep away.” Nieve looked back at Marai with amusement. “He told me it was you who gave him the warning.”
Marai dipped her head. “Thank you for the generous payment.”
Nieve smiled. “I haven’t forgiven him. I don’t trust his actions, but I trust his assessment of you.” Nieve’s face grew serious again as she gazed up at the White Ridge Mountains looming in the distance, shrouded in fog and snow. “I’ve never believed faeries were evil. Certainly not in this lifetime. Your people once ruled these lands before my husband’s bloodline took over. War is inevitable when everyone wants power.”
“My parents were from the North,” Marai said. It was strange to discuss such personal things with the Queen of Grelta, herself. But Nieve didn’t seem to have any qualms about intimacy.
“Oh, that’s obvious,” said Nieve, gesturing to Marai’s fair hair and complexion. “I hope that you will not only bring acceptance for your people and other magical folk, but also be a strong force for Nevandian women, as well.”
Marai blinked and looked away. No one was less qualified to be a voice for women. Not after Slate. Not after all the lives she’d taken.
“I see the shadow over your heart, Lady Marai,” Nieve said softly. “Don’t let your past dictate who you are in the future. You’re strong. Lead Nevandia to a better place. And I promise I’ll do the same here in Grelta.”
Nieve held out her bejeweled hand; rubies and sapphires big as walnuts glittered in the morning sun. Marai stared at it. I am worthy, she reminded herself. She shook the queen’s gloved hand tersely.
“Now, I must go back inside. The council and your prince are already drafting away in there. I always insist on being part of such significant negotiations.” Nieve gave Marai one last smile before turning back towards the castle.
Marai stayed outside a while longer, breathing in the crisp winter air. She hadn’t thought about her ties to this country. The place she was born before her parents moved to the fae camps in the Northwestern part of Tacorn. Before they’d been slaughtered.
Her feet tread through the snow, leaving behind small footprints from her tattered slippers. Eventually, the cold became too great to tolerate, and Marai hurried back inside, shaking the flakes from her clothes in the entry hall. She grumbled to herself, longing for sandy beaches and striking ocean sunsets.
Inside the chamber, Nieve sat on her throne, listening intently to the councilmen and Goso discussing . . . whatever business they had to discuss. Marai wasn’t one for politics. The intricacies of treaties and wartime alliances were beyond her.
Ruenen’s eyes glazed over as he nodded in his chair, on the dais next to the Greltan thrones. Marai chuckled. It appeared he wasn’t one for politics, either, but Ruenen perked up when Marai entered. Nosficio, fully covered in his cloak, and Aresti, were also present, standing amongst the other Nevandian guards.
“Enjoy your evening?” Nosficio asked, voice light and casual, as Marai joined them. He plucked a speck of dust from his cloak with a gloved hand.
“Fine. How was yours?” asked Marai, revealing nothing.
Nosficio and Aresti both suddenly avoided Marai’s eyes.
“Quite pleasant,” said the vampire. “Wouldn’t you agree, Aresti?”
Aresti didn’t respond. She stared, instead, at Nieve. Suspicion brewed in Marai’s stomach, but there were too many people around to ask questions.
Marai crossed her arms. “We need to leave soon. We’ve been away too long.”
After another hour of negotiations, Nieve announced, “Lord Goso can remain here as our guest to further discuss the trade details. You’re pressed for time, Your Highness, eager to return home. Rest assured that we will begin preparing our troops immediately.”
I hope they arrive in time . . .
Nosficio’s heedful glance told Marai he thought the same. Ruenen and Nieve got to their feet, and the chamber fell silent.
“Prince Ruenen, I hope you’ve had a pleasant stay here in Grelta.”
“It was more than I deserved, Your Grace,” Ruenen said, kissing her outstretched hand. “Thank you, so very much, for your aid and welcoming arrival. And please give my best to His Majesty, the King. I’m sorry not to say farewell to him in person.”
Nieve’s eyebrows rose. “You truly mean that, don’t you? Most people say such things as courtesy, but the truth is in your honest eyes.” She peered out across the room, finding Marai amongst the guards. “You were correct, Lady Marai. He is abnormal. I look forward to our partnership, Prince.”
Ruenen walked down the dais and shook hands with the entire council of Grelta. After several more pleasantries and goodbyes to Goso and his assistant, Ruenen’s Nevandian entourage gathered in the middle of the room.
“As a final show of trust, I ask that you show me the glorious gifts that allowed you to travel to me so quickly.” Nieve stared squarely at Marai.
A muscle in the corner of Marai’s eye twitched. A display of magic. Nieve wanted to see it for herself.
“You don’t have to,” Ruenen quickly whispered to her.
Marai wanted to reach out and cup her hand to his cheek for those words, but she raised both arms. The queen had confided in her, and Marai would repay the candor.
Bright, colorful magic burst forth, creating the portal. Nieve’s eyes opened wide. She took a small step back. The silver guards along the room moved, their armor clattering, but that was all. Nieve stared into the portal, viewing the Nevandian Witenagemot chamber on the other side. A graceful hand came to her throat.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice soft in awe. “How extraordinary.”
Marai had never thought of her magic as beautiful, but perhaps, when no one was trying to kill you because of it, magic was quite winsome.
Nieve tentatively approached, walking around the portal, examining it from all sides. She turned to Marai, eyes still wide. “Thank you for showing me. I wish you the best of luck. Protect your prince.” A vicious smile came to the queen’s lips. “May Tacorn and Rayghast burn.”
The minute Marai’s feet stepped through the portal, chaos swarmed around her. The council chamber was crammed to the brim with soldiers, members of the Witan, and a slew of nobles and servants. All of them shouted and pointed as Marai quickly sealed the portal shut. Apparently, their arrival had taken the counsel by surprise. Several people held their hands to their hearts in breathless alarm.
Marai spotted Keshel off to the side. Aresti was already making her way swiftly there. Nosficio had disappeared as soon as he’d come through the portal. Perhaps the number of people and smell of blood overwhelmed the vampire.
“What’s going on?” Aresti asked her cousin.
Keshel’s body was closed off, arms crossed tightly, face limed with concern. “We just received word that Tacorn soldiers, one of Rayghast’s elite units, attacked Gloaw Crana a few days ago.” Gloaw Crana was a town on the Tacorn-Nevandian border, right along the main road. Founded long ago by the fae, its citizens were used to skirmishes in that area, and the occasional death, but this was different. “The entire town up in smoke. Every man, woman, and child dead.”
Marai’s heart stopped. Aresti cursed, aptly voicing Marai’s thoughts.
“Varanese forces are on the move,” said Keshel. “Our spies said they’re crossing through on the road to Tacorn.”
