Page 216 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

The tall man frowned. “Over my dead body, my queen. Wherever you go on this rotten soil, I will follow. And I will protect. I’ve given an oath. With my life. And I won't break oath no matter how mighty powerful you are.”

“You’re massive,” I explained. “Not a good trait when you want to hide.” The man stuck to me like a barnacle everywhere I’d stepped in Adriata. He growled at anyone who dared give anything more than a polite smile. The day I returned from Isjord, he even shed a tear for me. A tear. Was it age? Did age make men sensitive?

The troll’s shoulders dropped a little, as if he was trying to make himself smaller, and he flushed. “Then I will stay back. I will never endanger you or your mission.”

“Take what she says with a bucket load of salt.” Cai patted his arm and followed after Sebastian through the thin strap of forest separating the city and Highwall.

It was barely past sunset in Amaris though night had already blanketed the winter city. But it was rather quiet. Too quiet. Even the howl of wolves was so faint I thought I could have imagined it.

“Curfew,” Sebastian said as if reading my doubt. “A week ago, Silas set a curfew for all of Isjord. The guards do ground checks on the city all night after it.”

Hells, my father was losing his plot.

We reached a bungalow right outside the city line, hidden away by the forest, snow and the shadow of Highwall.

“She is inside,” Sebastian said, opening the door for Cai and I to enter.

The air was grave and frosted inside the small space lit by the fireplace and odd candles. The energy was all so severe and dramatic.

“Hello, Gara,” I said, going round the table and taking a seat before her.

Her hair was still neatly pulled back, her clothing ironed and prim, not a thread in sight, and it somehow annoyed me. “You will come to regret this, Olympian bitch,” she snarled.

My, my. “Oh, will I?”

She banged a tight fist on the table. “Using another Lord to call me here with lies and threats was your first mistake.”

“What was my second?”

She bared her neat teeth at me. “Messing with me.”

I looked past her and signalled Cai to let my leverage step in. All dirtied and beaten, Reuben stood with his head hung low by my friend's side.

The Grasmere Lady shot up from her seat attempting to reach her bound lover when Cai lifted a sword to her neck. “Down,” he said, motioning his sword to the seat and she sat. “That’s it. Good dog. I’d make you apologise, but she likes apologies with screams and Isjordian bitches bark a little too loud.”

Gara bristled and Cai’s grin turned vile.

Not a beat after, she turned to me. “You will let him go. He is the heir of Isjord. You better pray your father does not find out.”

All the delusionality was starting to wear on me. Did they truly think my father cared? “Father had sent him back to Comnhall. To his mother. He had no intention of bringing him back. Especially not when father is expecting a child and presuming many more once he resumes his plague over the realm. He is no heir. Never was. Though father liked to entertain the idea just to keep the spoiled batch looking like a real happy family. You know how important image is to you Isjordians.” I lifted my attention to Reuben. “I am only taking care of discarded rabble. But it seems that one’s trash is another’s treasure. Am I right, Gara?”

The Grasmere Lady remained silent. “If you think I will betray your father and Isjord under any circumstance, you are wrong. If you hurt us or kill us, much worse will come your way. He is the heir, and I am to be his wife! You cannot kill us so spare me my time.”

Twas my first choice, but then the endless cycle of choosing a Lord or a Lady was too time consuming. I needed Grasmere now. And by now, I meant today.

I stood, fisted Reuben’s blond locks and dragged the little worm all across the room while he squirmed away with tears and boogers hanging off of him. The whole time I watched Gara’s reactions crack to surface and her sweet little face morph to terror.

I sat back in my chair, the half breed kneeling before me. “Have you ever been struck by lightning?” I asked and the two held their breath. “No?” Leaning forward, I stuffed Reuben’s mouth with a piece of cloth and let electricity skitter around my fingers. “There is always a first time.” When I rested my hand on the half breed, the Grasmere Lady shot up from her seat and screamed my eardrum out.

The little rat started smelling of burnt hair and flesh and cried like a babe. Probably shat himself like one, too.

The woman shook, eyes wide on me. “You’re…you’re—”

I stood and reached her. “Your worst nightmare. And do you know what nightmares do best? They don’t kill, dear, they haunt.”

Her frightened bright blue eyes drifted to Reuben. “What do you want?”

She flinched when I trailed a finger around her face. “What do you think I want? It isn’t all so difficult to guess what I could want from a stuffed doll with a title. I want to play.”