Page 86 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

“It isn’t,” I reassured, hoping she didn’t think people could come so close to her without repercussions.

“That so? Why is your whore running in and out like she pleases? I gathered you spared them some different quarters. The castle is big.”

Mal glanced at me and then stood. “I should go.”

Snow shut the book and spun to us, resting on the shelf. “Sit, Princeling. Perhaps you can be of assistance to your brother. Help him choose a better one.”

“Get out, Mal,” I said, standing.

“Stay,” Snow said.

My brother looked between the two of us, confused. “The power balance is totally throwing me off right now.”

Driada chose that moment to peek her head inside my room. “Son, are you feeling better?” Her smile was wide when she turned to Snow. “Snow, I didn't hear you arrive.”

Mal shot to his feet and wrapped an arm around his mother’s shoulders. “My mother is in need of me. I’m afraid she wins above both of you.”

Driada looked confused as Mal dragged the both of them out. “What need—”

Once they left, I reached close to her, resting a hand over her head on the shelf. I couldn’t help it, my attention travelled down her body. “I like it when you’re bossy.” With a finger, I traced the shape of her jaw. “What I don’t like is when you make assumptions without considering facts.”

“What facts?”

“That the only woman I’ll ever touch is you. The only woman I love is you. And the only woman I want is you. And I’d rather not call you a whore.” Leaning in to get washed in her flowery perfume that I’d missed, I said, “Unless you want me to. And still, you wouldn’t be any whore, you would be mine.”

Her shoulders lifted a bit as if she was cold. “I asked for no explanation, Your Majesty. You may do as you please.”

“You were jealous.”

Her eyes were amber ice. “No, you like to think that I was jealous.”

“Don’t worry, my heart, you know I love it. Also,” I said, pushing back from her and reaching for a shirt, “it is some petty revenge for all the fucking times I’ve lost my mind over you. The way men leer at you makes me rethink my boundaries for murder.”

“Women leer at you, too.”

That made me smile just the slightest and I glanced at her over my shoulder. “Do you leer at me?”

“Why would I leer at you?” Her head tilted to the side and her gaze slid down on me. “Do you leer at me?”

“Why would I leer at you, my missus? You’re all for me to stare at. And when I get the chance to look at you, I might as well look good. And hard. Not leer.” Something was oddly quiet in her—her quietness worried me. The Snow I know was a tumultuous storm. “How did you leave Myrdur?”

She dropped her head back on the shelf. “The soldier had been right. Isjordians were trying to sneak in a Crafter. We presume it was to study the zgahna. Ancient magic is strong, but like all magic there are weak points and leeways.”

“How have you kept your kingdom hidden from anyone curious enough to test that?”

She sat on my desk chair, fiddling with a few of my pens. “With an old method rhyming with ill and will. You know—that one bad word.”

“All this time?”

“All this time.”

“And no one has had a single doubt where everyone is disappearing?”

“Have you heard of the tales about the ruins? How the dead drive you mad and lure you to jump the cliffs?”

“Yes.” She smiled and I gaped a little. “They were made up?”

“Nothing a bit of fog, some ugly noises and a few wild boars and crows cannot fabricate. When I was younger, I would call on the mist and go scare a few myself—an old hobby of mine. Olympian spirits are haunted, not the opposite. They loom over Myrdur, but they are quiet, almost serene, and only seek to remain in their home. If anything, the intruders scare them.”