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It’s as if he’s not even listening to me, his eyes far away, and yet he says, “Indeed.”
At least I learned something about his magic, but it didn’t feel like a win.
I shiver in my drenched clothes, not looking forward to beg him to dry me or to spend an entire night like this.
He notices me, and says, “You’re cold.”
“A little.”
“Hang on. It will get worse before it gets better.”
So many things are like that. I sense some air around me, and it indeed makes me feel colder, until it doesn’t, and my clothes are dry.
“Thanks.” I manage a sincere smile. He’s still wet, his thin tunic sticking to his body. I wonder if he knows how stunning he looks, or if he truly thinks he’s ugly. “You should dry yourself.”
He glances at his clothes. “I’m not cold. I rarely feel it. Perhaps you’re right that my magic is ice, not water.”
His chuckle sounds wrong and bitter and pained.
Does his limited water magic bother him? He’s so powerful, though. I can’t imagine him upset about any magical shortcoming.
I take a deep breath and try to change the subject. “So we’ll stay here until tomorrow?”
He nods. “Night will fall soon, and I’d rather not travel during that time. Tomorrow, the Court of Bees will be secured. There’s a peace treaty that prevents anyone who visits a coronation from harming another guest. We’ll be safe there.”
Meaning that we aren’t safe here. And it looks like we’ll spend hours and hours without anything to do, anything to eat. I try to look at the bright side. At least here, I don’t suppose he’ll storm away if I approach a touchy subject.
“Will the Nymphs keep us safe?” It’s a guess, and something I want to confirm.
“Yes, obviously.”
“You really trust them.”
“I don’t trust anyone.” He shakes his head and laughs, then raises an eyebrow. “But I have alliances.”
Interesting, interesting, interesting.
“Queen Berta was your ally.”
“And as you saw, she wanted to reinforce that alliance. Had she not offended me, we might have come to some profitable agreement.” He sits on the sand and plucks some of the thin grass barely covering it. “At least I know where she stands.”
The wind pushes a strand of my hair onto my face and I notice how opaque it looks compared to the beautiful fae queen. “Will there be more queens like her?”
“Like what?”
“Wanting to marry you.”
He exhales in what almost sounds like a chuckle. “Most definitely. If not for the advantage of the Crystal Court, for strong heirs, because of my magic. They’ll want me to be their breeding stallion.”
I sit beside him, over a fallen branch, thinner and more uncomfortable than I expected. “Is the idea so despicable?”
He eyes me and snorts. “To be wanted for my power? Obviously.”
True, but still. I want to understand why he married me. “You could forge a strategic alliance. That could help you.”
He rubs his face with his hands, as if tired. “No. I don’t need an army or funds or soldiers. I don’t need another kingdom.”
That must mean that he’s not planning on waging war against his brother, or he would delight in an alliance with a powerful queen. “What is it you need?”
