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“That’ll help, I suppose,” Gavyn said. “Fione will be devastated and likely force the whole House of Mists to curse you.”
I smirked. “Fione wants my cock for no other reason than growing her own title. The same as all those women you say surround you.”
He laughed and rocked back on two legs of his chair. “We’d be fools to think it meant anything more. Although, I’m not convinced it’s the same for you and the earth fae. I had a moment to speak with Tait upon your return.” Gavyn righted on his chair, and leaned over the table, a shadow in his gaze. “Enjoy your fight with the sea singer?”
My jaw pulsed. “Seems my cousin has a big mouth.”
“Tait has the smallest mouth in the entire kingdom and would not speak of you unless he had concern or reason.” Gavyn hesitated. “I ask if she is only a source of magic to you since you know as well as I do, a sea singer’s trance will attract the victim to thetruedesire of the heart.”
“Sea singers lure folk through lust.”
“Erik. She would lust after anyone, but she desired you. Tait saw it.” Gavyn studied his hands for a few breaths. “It can’t be helped, and you know it; the song reveals the truth.”
“What is the point of you saying this?”
“I speak as a friend.” A rare admission. Men like us could not afford to have friends. “A new fate seems to be at play for the Ever with the mark, but perhaps there is more than one purpose the Chasm drew you to her.”
Part of me wanted to agree, another wanted to stab Gavyn to get him to shut his damn mouth. Lust was physical, but a sea singer’s voice amplified a heart’s desire. I refused to see Livia’s behavior as anything other than the physical draw for a warm body in hers.
In my silence, Gavyn let out a long breath. “It’s not my place to offer conjectures, merely something to consider. Tell me what I am to do. It’s been too long since you’ve utilized my more remarkable qualities, and I was beginning to think you’d forgotten me.”
Needy bastard. “I will guard against threats here, but I need you to dull the threats on the other side of the Chasm.”
Gavyn’s brows arched. “A visit to the earth fae again?”
“A subtle one, and it must be done by you alone. Understand?”
“Ah. You wish violence upon me, I see.” With a grin, Gavyn tried to shield the unease in his eyes, but there was hesitation there.
“Can you manage it?”
“I’ll manage just fine.”
I wasn’t certain if he said it for my assurances or his own. “Bring the Night Folk clans word that their princess belongs to the Ever, she cannot be taken, then see to it they cannot find their own way through the barriers.”
Gavyn tilted his head, bemused. “You think they’d risk so many lives by attempting to cross through?”
I lowered my voice. “I think her father would burn every bleeding world to the ground to get her back.”
By taking Livia, I’d dug a blade into the earth bender’s heart—a deep, gaping wound. He’d owned my father’s power for two decades. He’d fight to take my Songbird back with even more ferocity.
Now that I had her as mine, I’d never allow it.
“As you say,” Gavyn said. “I’ll prepare to leave as soon as possible.”
“You’re certain you can do this without your ship?” I watched for any hint of deception or false bravado.
Gavyn’s jaw flinched. “It will be taxing to attempt the Chasm after so many turns, but I’ve done it before as you know. Hopefully, this time I’ll do so with fewer shattered bones.”
Gavyn traipsed the Chasm last during the war. An attempt that nearly cost him his life. Nearly cost us both our lives.
“If you cannot, then pull back,” I said. “We’ll find another way.”
No one knew Gavyn’s true ability. I called him by the name of Seeker, but to the kingdom he was known as Gavyn Bonerotter, thought to have an ability where he could crush bones with a touch. He couldn’t, yet he served as the lord to the House of Bones. It was a ruse to keep him breathing. True sea seekers didn’t live long before they were killed by blade or their own reckless magic.
A man like Gavyn didn’t merely use the tides to carry his voice like Celine. He could become as mist and slip through any body of water in an instant to wherever he desired. Be it from one isle to another across the sea, or perhaps a pond in the private courtyard of another lord. Perhaps he might materialize in a washroom, knife in hand, ready to plunge it through a rival’s throat.
Seekers, to most high-ranking nobles, were too great a risk to keep alive.
