Tyton is mumbling behind us unhappily, this path always wreaking havoc on his inner peace. Roan answers him in soothing tones. We got too close to the trees of Ravenswyrd Forest again.
The old forest began speaking to Tyton years ago, crying out in a way that only he can hear, but the pleas have been getting louder. Every time we’re forced to ride past it, the perimeter of safety for him bows out a little further, until I'm sure my cousin is going to lose his mind the moment we cross the Lore River. Soon there won't be an inch of the Southern Lands where he’ll be safe from whatever madness lies within the forest.
It begs us to heed its warning, but no matter how hard we've turned the request over in our minds, we have no answer.
Return the Favored Children to us.
No one knows who the Favored Children are, no one knows what happened to them, and I have more important things to think about at the moment.
Nothing in the world can distract me from my Fates-blessed mate. There are only a few months until the winter solstice, the perfect time for a wedding and an ascension to the throne, and as soon as I have control over the entire Unseelie Court I can stop playing paltry games in the War of the Witches and move our remaining resources to where they need to be. I can send the high fae princes and princesses back to their own lands to return to farming and replenishing the stores of food within the kingdom.
I can stop the stupid balls the regent keeps throwing, frivolous parties that waste resources, until the witches are gone and the lands have been healed. It's not going to be the easiest life for my mate to marry into, but I’m determined to give her everything she could ever want while doing what needs to be done. While unions blessed by the Fates don’t necessarily guarantee a happy marriage, I know many who have found love through their fates, and I’m determined to know the same peace and fulfillment that my parents shared. My croí is already buried deep in my heart, and I’ll prove myself to her, whatever it takes.
I’ll save my kingdom, I‘ll heal my mate’s trauma from being kidnapped, and I’ll be the king my people need.
Tauron glances at his brother, ever watchful, but when he sees that Roan has a handle on the situation, he turns back to me. “If she’s being held captive and you kill her captors in front of her, you’re only going to traumatize her more. Maybe getting her out of the port and back to Yregar should be your priority. We can always hunt them down later.”
Unacceptable.
I shoot him a look and speak once again in the old language. “Or I can hand her off to Roan, who’s very good at soothing traumatized females. Once he has her out of sight and earshot, I can brutally rend them limb from limb and then stake out their bodies publicly so that everybody sees the consequences of touching my bride-to-be.”
Tauron purses his lips and nods, looking as though he is thinking a lot about this, and then a grin slowly stretches over his lips. “I suppose that's a good plan. Roan will bethrilledto know that his years of marriage to Airlie will come in handy to you.”
The sun bursts over the horizon, lighting up the ocean as dawn finally breaks, and I feel a swell of triumph in my chest. Finally, the patience that was forced upon me and dragged out of my stubborn soul has come to an end.
My Fates-blessed mate is just moments away, and with a quick glance over my shoulder at Tauron and Roan, I nudge Nightspark on, directing him down the side of the mountain. We move carefully, slow and considered, thanks to the loose rocks beneath the horses’ hooves, but I'd factored this into my timing as well.
Every last second of this morning had been planned, and I’ll ensure that it goes off without delay. I will find the female chosen for me by the Fates to rule at my side. A high fae princess for whom I will accept nothing but the best.
My little croí,whom I have longed for, the soft, melodic tones of her voice in my mind so deeply missed but never forgotten. I reach out one last time to reassure her that I’m coming, that I won’t take no for an answer this time with the Fates backing me, but when I encounter the barrier in her mind one more time, I don’t feel the despair that usually takes hold. The hours are counting down, and whether I can reach her now or not, nothing will ever part us like this again.
I only wish that my reputation as the Savage Prince wasn't so prevalent throughout the lands.
If she’s been traumatized by her captors, then I'm sure the idea of a scarred brute for a husband will be hard for her to accept. Another failing that grates at me.
I direct Nightspark past the fae door that stands farther up the mountain, and the moment the loose rock of the decline becomes the solid ground of the deadened plains once more, we break into a full gallop.
I'm not waiting for my fate any longer.
* * *
Port Asmyr is the only seaport within the kingdom. The small village is still heavily populated, the rations the regent delivers enough of an incentive to keep the workers here and the ships catered to. It’s manned by the regent’s guards, and the markets are a trading hub for both the ships that arrive less frequently now and the meager produce of the fae folk who live in nearby villages. Despite a scarcity of goods, the markets still seem unusually well attended. Though slavery is outlawed throughout the high fae courts, I’ve long suspected the regent’s guards are turning a blind eye to the sale of flesh here.
I‘ve watched this place ever since the Seer told me it would be my meeting point for my fate, and when we arrive, I make my way to the inn and find Jaceon, a part-blood scout I stationed here decades ago. He took over the flagging business from a family I took in at Yregar after the regent’s guards terrorized them into leaving.
I find him greeting travelers at the door, a grim look on his face as he ushers them into the slowly deteriorating building. I doubt he’s charging them much for the stay, if anything at all. The folk who frequent Asmyr are mostly rake thin, dirty, and reeking of desperation, and the scout is well-known for offering what little aid he can to those in dire need. It turns my stomach to see how haggard the fae folk here are, how bleak and lifeless the children look as they clutch at their parents’ legs.
Jaceon bows his head the moment he spots our approach. When people on the street see the royal colors, they scurry away like frightened mice.
I slide off Nightspark and hand the reins to Roan, then approach Jaceon, the scout well trained and not one to waste time as he jumps past pleasantries and straight into a report.
“There’ve been more guards here in the past few weeks. A ship from the Northern Lands docked yesterday and left again this morning. The guards showed a lot of interest in it.”
The corners of my mouth tighten. “What cargo did the ship bring in? The Sol King doesn’t trade with the Southern Lands anymore.”
My mate was on that ship.
The Fates tug and pull at me, their demand playing across my skin happily as they direct me, but I can’t just run off into the crowd without knowing what I could be facing. Ignorance and arrogance could get my mate harmed, and I’ll never allow that to happen.
