Page 12 of The Stolen Crown

With the back of my palm, I wiped blood away from my lips, grinning with a new idea of how to deal with Filib.

A white linen towel struck the side of my head.

Nightseer lit a new herb smoke between his stained teeth. “Got a lady approachin’. Clean your damn face.”

The man had been a crewman who’d taken to ferrying earth fae to and from the Ever since peace was restored. First with the alver clans during Prince Jonas’s alliance with the elven, now Nightseer seemed interested in learning more about the glamour folk.

I looked out the misted windows of the ship.

True enough, half a dozen fae guards stood at the back of a woman on the dock. Her hair was dark and intricately braided around a black circlet shaped into dainty raven wings.

“Shit.” I let out a hissing breath through my teeth. “That’s the queen.”

“Seems to be waitin’ for the captain.” Nightseer glanced at his dirty fingernails as though bored.

“Oh? Is that what you think? Here I thought she might be waiting for you.” I tossed the bloody linen at the man’s face, cursing about stupid sods under my breath, and strode out onto the main deck.

With a swift glance at the face of my pocket watch—hands still peacefully ticking the time—I made quick work of preparing to meet a royal.

Blood stained my features, but the queen of the glamour fae would need to accept it. I’d never spoken to the woman, not since the banishments after the war. I remembered her from those days, sitting beside her king, gaze locked on me, as they sent me beneath the tides.

I’d not said a word. Not shown a flicker of emotion.

Inside, I’d never forget the strange relief at her words. She sent me to a home where the pain of childhood no longer lived.

Now, so many turns later, I hardly knew how to stand in the presence of the woman.

I strode down the gangplank with a steady pace—sure, determined. Slowly, I removed a paper smoke from my pocket and lifted it to my lips with one hand, a fire stick with the other. I kept my stride as I lit the tip, then flicked the fire stick into the tides, puffing out a long draw of smoke between my bared teeth.

“Highness.” I dipped my chin in a greeting.

The glamour fae queen was small in stature. Her eyes were sharp, but there was warmth buried beneath the bright shade of blue. Though she had darker hair than her daughter, I could still see the resemblance in the cunning way the queen scrutinized me, like she could read my every lie beneath the surface.

I did not know her exact glamour magic, but her actions during the Great War left me certain she could kill powerful men well enough.

Chin lifted, the queen clasped her hands in front of her body. “Heartwalker. Lord Gorm of the Blood Court arrived at the Borough Palace with the most unusual report.”

I blew out another puff of smoke. “I’m sure he did. If your man said I had anything to do with it, he’s—”

“One thing you ought to know about Gorm is he does not lie. I very much doubt the man knows how. He speaks in absolutes and rarely grasps a jest. The tales he tells, I always believe wholeheartedly.” The queen took a step nearer. “Which is why I’ve come to invite you to the High Court tomorrow evening.”

My eyes narrowed. “And why would I be going to the palace, Highness?”

“We’re not looking to kill you if that’s what you think, though I understand if that was your suspicion.”

She studied me with a new intensity, as though the woman could break through my skull and read my every thought of unease, as though she could see the shameful torture that went on before the battle and after. Perhaps when she looked at me, all she saw was the son of Harald, the man who led armies against her people.

A wash of heat burned from my shoulders down to my damn legs, and I fought the urge to retreat to the ship.

The queen cleared her throat. “I am here to invite you to the Borough as an honored guest. We are expecting a few visiting royals. And Shelba, our lady of the Court of Serpents, is set to have her little one any day.”

Glamour fae divided their kingdom a great deal like the Ever Seas. Smaller territories led by noble houses all surrounded the royal court, where the king and queen lived. I knew Shelba. She was the wife of an alver who was in the inner circle of the royal house of his clan.

“Thought the little had already arrived,” I said, taking another draw from my smoke.

“Not quite. As thanks for what you did, Heartwalker, we do hope you’ll join us.”

“Queen, it was nothing.”