The second-in-command speaks again, this time in the old language. “We have to stop for the night, Soren. We can't keep walking until she dies, even if that seems preferable right now.” The sun has long since set, and we’ve continued marching in the moonlight.
Prince Soren Celestial, heir to the throne of the Southern Lands.
The name was imprinted on my heart at the tender age of eighteen, soaked with poison and wrapped in terror. He became my own personal ghoul, a demon who lived in my mind to torment me.
He doesn't look so frightening now.
“The iron isn't burning her wrists. Are we sure that she’s a full-blooded witch? If she has magic, it should be roasting her by now.”
Interesting.
They clearly don’t understand the laws of magic, if that's what they believe.
The fourth prince shakes his head. “I could smell the magic on her from across the marketplace. She's got it. I don't know if witches can cast to keep iron from burning them, but she's definitely a full-blood.”
So heisthe one with the magic. His gaze never touches me, as if I might bewitch him in some fashion with one glance, but the Savage Prince does not share such concerns, throwing repulsed looks in my direction at every opportunity.
“The iron stays on. The gag stays in. We’ll take her back to Yregar, put her in the dungeon, and then figure out what the in Fates goodfuckwe're going to do.”
The Seelie prince groans and rubs his eyes. “I think we know what we're going to do, Soren, because the Fates haven't given you many options. Actually, they’ve given you only one.”
The Savage Prince cuts him a look that could flay a male alive, but he doesn't say a word.
We continue walking, the irritation of the princes palpable, though the other soldiers with us follow obediently. When the Savage Prince finally stops the group and barks out orders to make camp, I prepare myself for a very uncomfortable night.
I've slept in worse situations.
“Tie it to that tree. We'll take turns standing guard, and we'll leave again at dawn. I'll take first watch.”
The other high fae princes share looks between themselves, and then the Seelie-blooded prince begins to sort out the horses. The prince who dragged me behind his horse comes to bind me to the tree the Savage Prince pointed out, snapping the chains to get me moving faster.
He’s extra careful as he triple checks the restraints, and then he stares at me before turning on his heel and walking away to make camp with the others, contempt rolling off him. It’s only when they have a small fire burning and food being shared between them that conversation breaks out about something that isn't me.
“We're too close to the forest. I can hear it,” the one with magic says, and the Seelie-blooded prince groans under his breath.
“There's nothing we can do about that tonight, Tyton. If you need to drink to get some sleep, I have extra packed.”
Tyton shakes his head. “It won't block them out. We've tried it before. It wants the Favored Children back.”
My head snaps up, catching their attention, and the Savage Prince sneers in my direction. “Take your eyes off us before you find yourself without them.”
The soldiers all seem to stop breathing, even the ones trying to get some rest, but I stare him down for a moment before I lean back against the tree. I rest my head against the trunk and shut my eyes so none of them can see the brightness in them.
I don’t care what else they have to say.
Whatever secrets the Ravenswyrd is whispering to Tyton, they’re a message from the trees to him alone, but the song welcoming my return rings in my own ears as though I never left. An invisible string that connects us, pulling at me to bring me home to the trees, and my chest aches with longing to stand amongst them once more. The Fates have dealt me a cruel hand, to lead me so close and yet deny me that single hope I have left within my heart.
Tears prick my eyes, longing and relief mixing to choke me as I listen to the trees call out for us. Once, long ago, I thought the forest had forsaken us. I thought we’d done something to wrong the forest that had sheltered and provided for the Ravenswyrd Coven for generations, and that in return, it had withdrawn its protections.
I've learned better since then.
Thousands of refugees from the Southern Lands brought information with them to Sol City, and Pemba was meticulous about finding out what he could about our home. We learned what Kharl had done, that it was his treachery that cost us our family and our coven.
We know that the trees were betrayed.
My heart desperately craves to return to them and ease some of their pain, to show them that a Favored Child has come home, but it would be a lie. The coven is gone, the forest devoid of its ancestral caretakers, and my fate will take me into the Unseelie Court, where the high fae have forgotten the trees.
With the crackling fire and the small talk happening around it as the males begin to question everything the Fates could be planning, I might not be able to sleep where I am, but the more I can learn about the high fae while they assume I’m unconscious, the easier the coming months will be for me.
