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“The same consort you had Galen steal?” I have to know, have to be sure.
Moria whistles. “What else do you know?”
Enough. Too much. I hug my arms around myself.
“It’s not like that.” Sigurd runs his hand through his hair. Some of it stands on end.
“Not like what? You giving another woman jewelry?”
“Yes, I gave it to her.”
“You wanted her away from the forest king, so you thought to… What? Seduce her away from him?”Tell me it’s not true. Tell me. Tell me!
But he doesn’t. Every second of silence that ticks by squeezes my chest tighter. Somehow, no matter how much of the story I get, there are still enough tricky details left to cut me up anew.
“We need to go.” Moria’s words are a death knell for my heart. The ring has vanished—slipped into one of her pockets or tossed off the balcony, who knows.
I look to her, only her. “Don’t leave me here.”
“I’ll take you to your uncle,” she says, but her eyes say much more important things.I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.
I’m glad she did. Even though it hurts so much more than it should. Maybe she doesn’t understand the words buried in my look, but that’s fine.
Moria takes my hand. Over my shoulder, she says to Sigurd, “I’ll meet you at the front.”
“Wait,” he says.
The word tugs at me, begging me to look back over my shoulder. Eventually, I do.
Sigurd’s shoulders are hunched, his expression troubled. “I didn’t care for her.” Then he amends, “I don’t care for her.”
It doesn’t ease the heaviness within me. It should. I want it to, but it doesn’t.
“You’re important to me, Wren. I can’t change my past, but I can do better in the future. I’ve been a villain in so many stories, even my own.” He swallows, his gaze never leaving mine. “And yours. But I don’t want to be. I want a new story, Wren. Don’t forget that.”
Chapter 27
Thefourtheventofthe competition arrives before Sigurd and Moria return. It’s not just the Court of the Forest keeping them away. The tug on our bond has been a tangible force the whole time they’ve been gone, like a string around my wrist that someone keeps a tight leash on. Sometimes, the tug is strong enough to nearly pull me down, bordering on painful.
Trouble with the Unseelie, Hawke said. Apparently, the enemy has been testing the wards at the borders in random places—no pattern to it. A distraction, he’s sure, but for what, no one knows. I’d hoped to ask the Unseelie woman if I saw her again, but she’s also been curiously absent. Probably for the best.
If the rest of the Court of Air knows of these troubles, you can’t tell from how they cram into the stands, wave colorful pennants, and cheer loud enough that I wouldn’t be surprised if half of them are hoarse tomorrow.
My heart races. A trickle of sweat runs down my neck. But it’s not hot, and the game hasn’t even begun.
The arena where we were first introduced is packed to the gills. How Galen and Lysandir manage to appear so calm and at ease is beyond me. It’s a comfort having them at my sides, but it’s not enough to keep me from bouncing on my toes and shifting from foot to foot as the finishing touches of the contest are set up in the large, grassy field before us.
We won’t be able to help each other today if the setup is any indication. Tables are arranged in a broad circle. Cloths of varied, shimmering colors are tented above each, hiding whatever contents lie below.
Poisons, if I had to guess, or something related to them.Please don’t be weapons.
A fae stands behind each table on the inside of the ring. Simple, flowing robes of gray and blue adorn their bodies.
I can’t quite see into the royal box on the far side of the arena, but the little bits I can make out are empty. No Sigurd. No Moria. However, Uncle Mark and Hawke should be taking their places there soon, now that their obligation to deliver me safely to the game has been fulfilled.
I reach into my pocket and rub the little slip of paper I stuffed there this morning. A note from Sigurd, one of several his eagle, Zale, delivered on his behalf over the last two days. Apologies, mostly. Appreciated but unnecessary. I was jealous at first and caught off guard, but whatever he did with whoever before he met me is none of my concern. Even though that revelation may have taken a whole day to really sink in. The forest king’s consort doesn’t hold a special place in his heart? Cool, one less rival.
Not that we’re anything.
