Even the sky has turned into a perpetual cloud of grey.
It took Tegwyn several weeks to recover, and I stayed with him the entire time.
He’d slept a lot, and I’d taken those rare moments to appreciate his exquisite features; I would run the pad of my finger around his face ever so slightly, then sweep along the bridge of his nose, then across his sculpted cheekbones, the ones limned with flecks of gold. Tegwyn is a beautiful work of art, and I want to paint him someday.
Though coarse, his skin is enticing to touch, and when I traced his Cupid bow lips, I wondered, not for the first time, what they would be like to kiss…
He hadn’t been all that surprised when I confessed my identity, and he was more than happy to indulge me and tell me everything he knew about the old kingdoms.
It turns out that the sigil on my necklace belonged to the Seaworth Dynasty, and that I’m the granddaughter of the late Lord Renfred Seaworth.
There were the Roseblood and the Cadstone kingdoms, too, which are now extinct—their sigils had been a blood-stained white rose and a snow-capped mountain range, respectively. Godwyn’s had been a great, fiery comet on a collision course with the planet's atmosphere. I am part Seaworth on my mother’s side, and part Godwyn on my father’s.
According to Tegwyn, King Mervyn Godwyn had been a cruel, merciless man. He cared far more for his own wealth and power than he did for his people. He imposed heavy taxes, took away land and food from the most vulnerable communities, and killed anyone who dared to oppose him.
The Fae were no exception.
He made life harder for Rogues, especially, permitting hunting laws up and down the country, and I think about the punters I met in that stone tavern. How miserable and wretched they had all been.
They vilified me because I was human, but after what I’ve learned, I’m not at all surprised.
If they had known that I was the missing princess, would they have killed me? Or worse, imprisoned and tortured me?
King Mervyn had been my father, and I felt sick to my stomach to learn that I was related to such a man. I am nothing like him, but that makes no difference in the eyes of the Fae.
They won’t see it any other way, and I thank my lucky stars that Tegwyn saved me in time.
Even though he’s Fae himself, he cares about me deeply, and I must thank him once again for his kindness upon his return. I have no interest in the throne whatsoever; I just want my mother and father back, which is why I vow to fight the present king.
King Corvis is no better than my birth father. In my eyes, he’s just as cruel. He chased me away from my home. He took my parents, andfor that injustice, he will pay. After all, isn’t that why he wants me? He sent his men to the cottage to retrieve me. I am a threat to his throne, and thus, it’s in his best interests to have me killed.
But it’s fine. I don’t mind a good fight. I will be ready for him.
With a heavy sigh, I secure the furs around my shoulders, smiling down at the necklace in my hand.
The diamonds glisten before the firelight, and I stare at the bejewelled sea serpent of the Seaworth sigil yet again, mesmerised.
This necklace had once belonged to my birth mother, Rowenda Seaworth—the daughter of Lord Renfred Seaworth.
I gaze down at her photograph, the one I found inside the music box, trying to find some similarities. I do have her eyebrows, I guess.
She may have been my mother at one time, but my real mother will always be the one I knew.
The one who raised me at Charstown. The one I lost.
I just don’t understand where she and Papa fit into the story. How did I manage to escape the castle and the war between Mervyn and Corvis in the first place?
I was just a baby. None of it adds up.
Footsteps echo up the tunnel, and soon I’m greeted by the sight of Tegwyn panting and sweating. He has only just started venturing outside again, but judging by his dire state, it’s obvious he isn’t quite ready. The faerie is out of shape. His face shines like wax as he doubles over, clutching a stitch in his side. “Fuuuck. That last lag was abitch…”
He leans against the wall, breaths soughing from his lips.
I’m on my feet in seconds, catching him before he falls. “Tegwyn! You’re supposed to be taking it easy.”
He staggers towards the table, collapsing into a chair. Then he presses his face to the splintered wood, trying to find his breath.
“Had…had to clear up all the snow outside. Otherwise, we’d be trapped.”
