Page 61 of Veil of Blood and Bone

“I’m uncertain how the courts are functioning without you,” I reply. “You are the pillar of their gossip and dreams.”

Sabine and I have known each other for longer than most history can recognize. I wouldn’t label her a big player at court. Moreover, her ego has inflated, too oversized to fit through the majority of doorways, and she considers herself more important than she’s worth.

The mist parts for her, then curls around her ankles, up the slice of thigh. Her dress is water, the color of violets, designed to show off every ample access, weapons in an always changing arsenal.

“Come on, Wren, what are you doing out here?”

“You?”

Fire pulses in her eyes. “Only if you say please.”

“You know what I mean, Sabine.”

The words are a purr, and she shivers. For each step she takes toward me, I circle her, maintaining equal distance.

“Draven is going crazy. He barely leaves his palace anymore. Always planning and scheming...” She lifts a hand, her fingers spectral, then lets it fall, twining the mist around her knuckles. “It’s boring.”

“Why not use it as an excuse to throw a party?”

“Come home and entertain us. You know things aren’t the same without you. And with Draven⁠—”

“Careful,” I interrupt. “I didn’t realize you were on a first name basis with the King.”

She blows me off. “Dökkálfar are concerned. No one wants to say anything, but the tremor has spread throughout our world. Wren.” She pouts prettily. “Please.”

“Please what?”

My shadows lift and twine with the mist, casting the clearing into an unnatural dark.

“You know, Sabine, if you’re going to beg, at least make it interesting.” I grin when her pulse jumps. “You’re starting to sound desperate.”

Her expression flickers.

Mean of me? Probably.

Sabine licks her lips, softening, reaching for me with intent.

I sidestep her and paint it as a game.

“Is that what you want?” she presses. “You want to see me beg for you? I’ll think about it if you come back to court.”

She lifts a delicate shoulder high.

Hard pass. I smirk. “You’re boring me.”

I’ll only ever want one person. Which is unfortunate for Helene, really.

The bit about the King, though...

Interesting. Has he holed himself up somewhere to plan for war? Once again my foresight is astounding.

I tuck the information into my metaphorical bag of tricks. If Sabine is telling the truth, and some new existential crisis has swept through our world, reaching the creature at the pinnacle⁠—

Does it have anything to do with Odin’s heavy hand?

She huffs. “You’re not listening to me.”

I feign a yawn. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”