He looks at the soldiers and gestures to them, inviting their opinions.
Alwyn blows out a breath and rocks on his heels as he glances at each of us before he says, “Prince Soren has ridden into swarms of our enemy and walked out without a single scratch to show for it. His Fates-blessed mate can swing a sword better than most of his soldiers can, and she wields magic unlike anything I’ve ever heard of. If anyone should ride out alone for this task, they’re the most likely to succeed. Our messengers all fair well around the kingdom because of their knowledge and experience; Prince Soren and his Fates-blessed mate are arguably unmatched.”
When we turn to look at Kytan for his own opinion, he hesitates and side-eyes Alwyn before he speaks. “I have my own apprehensions, but they're not much help here. Sending the true Celestial heirandhis Fates-blessed mate feels like we’re risking the lives of the two most important fae in all the kingdom needlessly. If the task is one only Mistress Rooke can do, I’d rather we send someone else to escort her.”
Tauron nods, meeting Soren’s gaze with determination. “I'll go with her. I’ll guard her while she completes her task, and I’ll get her back to Yregar safely. Kytan's right, there's no reason to take such risks with your life.”
I’d rather sit and rot in the dungeons again than travel with Tauron.
Tyton huffs, shaking his head with a lopsided smirk at his brother. “The forests would eat you alive for your contempt. Even with a Favored Child under your guard, they’re not so forgiving as the Ravenswyrd Mother is, and they donotlike the disrespect we’ve shown the ways of old.”
Tauron scoffs dismissively and snaps, “Even better, I can go and apologize to the trees. They’ll like me well enough if she rides at my side, and I’ll learn how to cater to them while we’re at it. By the fucking ashes, the lows we’ve stooped to now, to be forced to negotiate withplants.”
When Tyton shoots him a glare, he doesn’t attempt to look sheepish at his brash comments. He does, however, curl his lip at my growl.
“Your arrogance is astounding, Prince Tauron.”
He shakes his head. “I have no intention of speaking to you.”
Despite his deliberately blank tone, my already lit temper heats further. “Then what am I doing here? Standing around trying to piece together whatever the ashes you’re arguing about while you all talk around me, it’s a waste of my time. I have far more pressing duties to attend to.”
My words land like a blow, his body flinching and his eyes finally lifting to meet mine with every inch of loathing he has roiling within. I stare back at him, refusing to back down, and Roan mutters under his breath as Soren stands suddenly. Tauron finally glances away, his head dropping back into a bow before his cousin, but I continue watching him to be sure he doesn’t do something stupid, like attack me.
Soren nods at the soldiers, and they leave without question.
The moment they breach the magic barrier Soren snaps, “Rooke and I will ride to the Brindlewyrd Forest to make a sacrifice there and see if the trees will offer protection to the faefolk of the kingdom. Thanks to our victories at Yregar and Yrell, the Kharl Balzog’s raiding war bands have intensified and there arethousandsof fae folk fleeing, their lives forfeit if we don’t do something, not to mention the villagers without protection even if they choose to stay. If we succeed with the Brindlewyrd, we’ll ride to the other forests to do the same. Roan is in charge of Yregar while we’re gone, and his command is final. Tyra will stay with Thea and take over her care, and my orders remain the same. Rooke’s decision stands—no one else is allowed to enter the healer’s quarters.”
An uneasy silence greets his words, and I straighten a little, rolling my shoulders back as I prepare for whatever malevolence Tauron is about to throw at me in retaliation.
His jaw locks down tight, and when he speaks, his words are hissed out between gritted teeth. “What exactly does the witch think I'm going to do to the female?”
I stare at him before shaking my head. “I don't think you're going to do anything to harm her intentionally, but her fear is so great right now that even offering her kindnesses could be viewed as an attack. The next few weeks are about building trust and reassuring her that no matter what happens, her life and safety are not at risk.”
Prince Tauron mulls it over, chewing on every syllable that left my mouth as he digests them all and still finds me wanting. “She shouldn’t be stuck down there—it was your kind that did this to her in the first place!”
I stand, ready to leave this room, but not without addressing his baseless assumptions. “There are no witches in Yris, only high fae, and I would never abandon a child for a bloodline she has no control over.My kinddoesn't do that. I understand your rage, Prince Tauron, but when you find yourself clear of mind once more, please remember that regardless the disrespectful treatment you’ve afforded me I'm helping your Fates-blessedmate. It’s the Ravenswyrd way to give aid to any and all who require it, without question or payment required. Mate or not, I won’t let you in to see Thea until your attitude changes, because all I see before me now is a bitter man who heard his fate and let it poison him. I won’t let you harm the female any more than she already has been.”
He stands and manages one step toward me before the room bursts into chaos. Roan steps around the desk to shield me with a severe look on his face at the same time that Soren rounds the other side of the desk, heading straight to Tauron with savage precision in his eyes.
I don’t wait for the bloodshed, ignoring the snarl Soren gives Tauron as I step to the door now that the meeting is over. “I don’t have the time to feed your ego, and I certainly don’t have the patience. I’ll take my leave to see to Thea, because I’m the only one here who had the forethought to learn how to speak toallfae folk, not just the ones I think are important or worthy of my time. “
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Soren
A week after Thea’s arrival, while preparations are still underway for my and Rooke’s journey, the consequences of Prince Mercer’s cowardice arrive on our doorstep. As the sentries hail their approach, I watch from the window in my reception room as the large band of high-fae males pass through the gates of Yregar. Princes and lords, every one of them highborn, and they draw a crowd of onlookers as they ride through the village and into the castle’s courtyard. Ingor and his stable boys accommodate the horses easily, the stalls only ever used to a third of their capacity at any given time.
When I finally step into the courtyard to greet them with a handful of my household, the males stand in the perfect lines of battle-ready soldiers. None of them are wearing armor, but most have swords buckled at their sides and myriad weapons strapped to their bodies, including bows and quivers full of arrows, as though they’re prepared for war. With packs laden on each horse, they've come, prepared to stay.
Roan studies them all carefully, his face stern, and Tauron strides out of the castle to join us with a solemn look of his own. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since Roan and Tyton were forced to pry me off him in my reception rooms, and I’m not eager to speak to him now either.
My fingers still itch with the need to bleed him out for threatening my Fates-blessed mate.
Myron, Prince Mercer’s nephew, steps forward and bows deeply to me, clearly the chosen representative of the group, and when I nod to him, he addresses me respectfully. “We’ve ridden out to join the ranks of your soldiers, if you deem us worthy of such training, Your Highness.”
The entire group is still as death, white faces carefully blank, not an inch of hesitation amongst any of them even as the silence of the courtyard stretches around them. My soldiers watch on, their gazes as sharp as my own on the newcomers, but there’s a thread of relief there too. Fifty high fae soldiers are worth five hundred raving witch soldiers on foot in the battlefield. Under competent command, fifty more soldiers could defend five times that behind the castle walls.
I meet Kytan’s eye, and he steps forward and slowly walks through the rows of the males with a critical eye before coming back to stand at my side. “Once you join Prince Soren’s ranks, there's no discharge. This becomes your life and your purpose until the war is over or your death, whichever comes first. Should we win the war against the witches only to find ourselves facing a new threat, you’ll stay loyal at his side.”
