“I’d love to join you, Princess Sari, thank you for your kind offer. If it’s not too much of an imposition, would you mind walking me back to my room? Today’s journey was taxing, but I’m reluctant to say goodnight.”
Sari’s smile brightens once more, and she nods to me eagerly. She barely bids her friends farewell, holding out her arm for me to take as she guides me through her chambers. None of the guards from the dining room follow us, but three others are waiting at the door and walk two steps behind us as we make our way through the hallways.
I'm curious at the absence of her handmaidens. Malia was always with her when they stayed at Yregar, but I’m mindful of the guards behind us and keep my curiosity to myself for now. We walk down yet another seemingly endless corridor, only this one has dozens of beautifully painted doors.
When she notices my interest in them, she smiles at me. “These are the chambers put aside for my family after my parents married. My father no longer resides here—instead he’s making use of the King's Chambers while he’s serving in Soren’s stead—but we both saw fit to keep me here instead. It’s all rather complicated and messy.”
The way she talks around such large issues with ease is a thing to be marveled at, and no matter how childlike she may seem, there’s a competent manner about her. She may very well be the greatest source of information I have access to in this castle, and for Gage’s Fates-blessed mate, I’m certainly willing to do far more than simply befriend this high-fae princess.
"Prince Soren told me that you’re quite adept in languages, a skill we share. I haven't met someone with such a firm grasp on a wide variety since returning to the Southern Lands.”
Her eyebrows rise quickly and her smile deepens far enough that I see the smallest of dimples in her cheeks, a tell that perhaps this smile is the first real one I've seen from her. “I guessed that you'd be able to speak the Seelie tongue even before you spoke with the Ancient, but I didn't know there were more. Which others? Oh, how exciting!”
I cover my shock at her exuberance with a smile. “I have as many as you do, fluently, and scraps of others. I’m well-versed in the old language, the goblin tongue, Dragul… have you heard of Nautal? I learned that some time ago.”
Her eyebrows rise again, the look of shock on her face as she grasps my hand and turns to me, even as we continue walking. “I've never met someone who can speak Nautal! I know a little, only from what the books in the library could teach me, and by all accounts, the language is lost to all but those who live in Elfenden.”
I nod back to her. “I met some fae folk from Elfenden. They traveled a very long way to help with the Fates War, and I helped the two of them heal from very old wounds. Ravenswyrd witches don't accept payment, but they insisted on dining with my brother and I each time they returned to the Golden Palace with their battalions. Over a few decades of sharing meals, they taught me the language.”
She sighs, a sound full of wistful longing. “I’d love to speak it with you, if you’re happy to share it with me? It’s been so hard to learn the pronunciation from the old texts, I’m never certain if I’m getting it right, and I moved on to something else in my frustrations.”
I nod, giving her a considering look. “What language are you working on now? Soren says you can speak eleven fluently, aconsiderable achievement. He speaks of your accomplishments with great pride, you know, and the honor you bring to your family name.”
She stares at me for a moment, eyes a little too rounded, but her feet still move steadily.
We reach the entrance to the first fae door on the journey back to my rooms, and one of the regent’s guards opens it with a deep bow to the princess, his eyes never shifting in my direction.
“I didn’t think Soren would ever speak favorably of me. I know he cares for me, the same way he cares for all high fae, but he mostly puts up with me. My father often puts him in a position where he has to endure my presence while dodging attempts to smear his name and yank the throne out from under him, so I don’t blame him for his.”
It takes me a moment to realize she’s slipped into the language of the Nautal and that her grasp of it, as well as the pronunciation, is far better than she was ever alluding to. I blink at her, too shocked for the ruse we’re supposed to be keeping up, and she sees the slip before her guards do, covering for me seamlessly. Her gaze drops away from mine, her shoulders drooping a little, and she casts a bashful look at the males escorting us through the endless hallways.
“I'm so sorry, Rooke, it seems my pronunciation is as terrible as I feared. I always learn to introduce myself first, no matter the language, but it seems I’ve butchered the niceties. Thank goodness you’re not a traveling princess, insulted by my first attempts and our kingdoms’ alliance now lost through my incompetence.”
I’ve watched the high fae lie to one another dozens of times, an art I was taught by the same high-fae prince who taught me to ride a horse. In the forest, where healing and traditions are revered above all else, a Ravenswyrd witch would never have learned the careful way of speaking only the truth but neverdirectly. Where my coven would falter, the high fae thrive as they circle each other in an intricate dance, finding all the ways to say something between words and bring meaning to those unspoken.
My own smile doesn’t reach my eyes and I squeezed her hand gently. “No harm done, Princess, I’m happy to be of service to you. Pronunciation is always the most difficult part of learning a language so different to our mother tongue, but I'm sure with some guidance you’ll fare well.”
A new light shines in her eyes as she steps toward the fae door, ignoring the males standing around it. “If you don't mind, Rooke, I’ll keep hold of your hand as we walk through to ensure we end up where we’re supposed to be going. There are dozens of fae doors within the castle, and I’d be distraught if you got lost while under my care.”
When I nod, she smiles brightly and takes the lead, guiding me to step through the ash arch. The magic pulls at us both, her fingers firm on my arm, and when we step back out into another hallway I don’t recognize it but as the guards follow us through, they show no signs of concern with the direction we’re heading. The Fates still thrum insistently within me, just as they have since I arrived at Yris, and I take a steadying breath, reminding myself that I’m on the right path.
Sari squeezes my fingers gently before letting them drop. “It was a great embarrassment to misstep so terribly with the Ancient today. I’m desperate to never make a mistake like that again. I don’t want to bring shame to my father or our family.”
She speaks slowly in Nautal once again, but her accent is perfect and a small grammatical slip doesn’t hinder the meaning of what she’s saying. It’s another small offering, a test of my ability to deceive the guards and speak more openly. I refuse to stumble again.
I murmur praises to her and small critiques, ones that are true but have nothing to do with the actual words she’s speaking. It’s a messy, complicated way of communicating but effective as she slowly begins to slip more to me. When we turn down another hallway, the area becomes more familiar to me, and I see we’ve come from another direction but will still arrive at my rooms. Sari sees we’re running out of time and, confident the flow of our conversation will hide her message, she finally speaks plainly to me for what I’m certain is the first time.
“Father is going to kill Soren after you’re wed at winter solstice. We need to get you both out of here.”
Plain and clear, she makes no attempt to soften her words. This isn’t the ignorant female Soren has claimed his cousin to be. I smile sweetly to her, murmuring more pronunciations under my breath knowing well the guards listen to every syllable from our lips but they don’t show any signs of understanding her desperate message.
I offer Sari more praises and weave my answer to her into the false lessons. “We’re here for a female—one of great importance. I wish to offer her my protection.”
Sari stares at me for a moment, long enough that I’m afraid the guards will notice, before she makes a frustrated noise under her breath and scrubs a hand over the lace in her chest for a second, muttering under her breath about how difficult certain syllables are. She’s heart-wrenchingly good at this game, doubtless centuries of playing it under her belt, and I can’t help but wonder how different the princess is to the performance she’s forced to act out each day.
She’s forced to split her reply into parts, waiting on my critiques, but the Fates scream within my gut with every line murmured to me. “Whoever you intend on giving your protection to, I’ll find them for you. I'll bring them to Soren and get you all out of Yris before it's too late.”
At my door, she grasps both of my hands in hers with a warm smile, but her eyes are a little too tight to believe she’s truly happy. “I’m grateful that you’ve been so kind as to help me, Rooke. Father does find it useful when I'm able to translate for him, and I strive to always be an obedient daughter.”
