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“Petter, you’re acquainted with Jytte?” Riot asked.
“Yes,” my father said quickly. “I mean, our houses both hail from the farmlands.”
“Ah. Well, I am a fortunate king to know two houses of such honor and skill.” The king gave a slight smile, returning his attention to the blade.
“Why does he wear that look?” I asked. “He’s keeping something in.”
“Watch,” was all Wraith said.
A narrow door creaked on the hinges in the back. The boy who’d long ago grown bored spluttered and hissed, an attempt to whisper, I supposed. “My King. King Riot.”
The burn in my chest scorched like a hot dagger. In the doorway, Saga wobbled on unsteady feet. Beneath a thin nightdress, dark bruises marred her beautiful face, and bandages wrapped gashes across her limbs. All of it had faded, but it was wretched proof of the abuse and betrayal she’d survived.
“Riot?” her voice cracked.
My menace, my bleeding queen, looked so damn small. A girl whose innocence had been robbed.
Riot’s face paled. He abandoned the blade with Lars and rushed to his sister. “Skugga. You should be resting.”
“I . . . I was looking for Nel,” Saga said, wincing. “Bevan sent her elixirs for pain.” Tears brimmed over her eyes. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, but . . . it just aches.”
Riot’s face remained soft, purely for the sake of his sister, if his clenched fists were evidence of how he truly felt. “Wait for me, I’ll take you.”
Saga’s battered face heated once she took in the stunned expressions of the others in the room. Pressure built in the back of my throat when the truth of the moment struck. My folk, my parents, they’d met my wife.
Truth be told, they both looked rather murderous.
“It’s true what he did,” my mother said, voice low. Her father warned her to hush, but the king heard.
Riot stepped closer. “I do not know what rumors you’ve been told, but you all will keep talk of your princess quiet.”
Lars was the only one who bowed his head in submission. My parents wore hard expressions.
“I will bring more blades, My King,” my mother finally broke. “If they are for her, I will see to it she is never unarmed if you ask it of me.”
“My King,” my father said, a new bite in his voice. “As I said, should you need us, we will fight with you.”
Riot hesitated. “Your loyalty is inspiring. Thank you.” One side of his lips turned up in a grin. “Hear this: whatever you face someday, I hope you will always stand for your people. Raise any future children to stand for their folk. Do so, and you will leave a legacy that will play a mighty role in the fate of our kingdom.”
A few moments passed before my parents left. I was torn between watching their faces fade and wanting to stand wherever the broken version of Saga stood.
“You felt it, didn’t you?” the king’s ward asked.
Saga hugged her middle. “Felt what?”
Riot studied the door where his guests had gone, a shadow in his eyes. “A heart’s song. Two souls destined to unite.”
Saga hung her head. “A song you never found for me, true?”
“Untrue.” He clasped her cheeks gently in his palms. “Your song is becoming clearer with every step I take, Skugga.”
Riot kissed her forehead and shadows swallowed the room whole. Wraith spun me away. I didn’t fight this time. I let the vision of Saga fade, a heaviness on my heart.
“The song he spoke of,” I whispered. “It was the union of my parents, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Wraith said. “Two bloodlines of Night Folk with honor and loyalty the fate king would come to depend upon. Their song lives on in you. It was the final song of love the king would sing. We must hurry, our time is running short.”
Before he finished speaking, shouts and screams rang in my ears. When the shadows fell, I stood in a room. The sight of it chilled my blood.
