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I watch a female Were leaning against the fireplace mantel and sipping her tea. She has long chestnut-brown hair and is dressed in a tight leather catsuit. She keeps eyeing Nathaniel, and I am not impressed.
He’s mine.
Instinctively, I snuggle closer to him before glaring at the female. She steps back, a feat in a room the size of a walk-in closet.
Sitting across from us is a Winter Fae male with ice-blond hair who I vaguely recognize as a low-level politician in my mother's court, and a Daemon whose black horns stick up from above his mop of curly red hair. His only contribution to the conversation thus far has been to point out that it’s “freaking cold,” and we should hurry things along so he can leave.
Calitha is hurrying through the room, stepping over limbs and offering little tea sandwiches to everyone.
Their eyes bore into me.
It’s not like I haven’t been the center of attention before, but this is different.
"So," the Were says, putting her teacup down with a clink, "here you are, Princess. Very muchnotdead." She stares at Nathaniel, assessing him before raising a brown brow. "And this is your husband?"
Incredulity rings in her voice as she quirks a brow. Nathan stiffens beside me.
"He is," I reply with finality. "He will not be going anywhere, so working with me is working with both of us. I won't tolerate any disrespect towards him."
The Were bows her head and steps back. “I meant no disrespect, Princess.”
I snort, but the other Winter Fae nods before I can retort. “That won’t be a problem, Princess.” He clears his throat. “I wasn’t at the Winter Arena, but everyone has heard of your... death. It’s quite an interesting turn of events to find you here. I must say, this is exactly what we’ve been waiting for.”
I nod and say, “Thank you.”
Sighing, I place my teacup on the side table before looking around the room and straightening my back. “I was telling the truth earlier. My mother is a tyrant, and I will no longer allow her rule to go unchecked.” I grow cold as the memories of everything she has run through me.
Nathan squeezes my thigh, warming me, giving me the strength to continue. “She is too old and has lost touch with her emotions long ago. I plan to force her off the throne and take my rightful place as Queen. I would have done it if I hadn’t been a youngling when my father died.”
The daemon cleared his throat, glancing at Jeremiah before nodding. “About that... your father—he’s not exactly dead,” he spits out quickly.
I freeze. Flurries of snow appear as icicles start forming in the room. The temperature drops so quickly that Nathaniel’s cup’s tea freezes. Shouts are coming from all around me, but I barely hear them through the ringing in my ears.
“What do you mean?” I say, my voice frosty as panic edges into it. “Of course, he’s dead. I went to his funeral. My mother told me...”
My voice trails off as a tear freezes on my cheek. Nathaniel starts to shiver next to me. “Elva,” he whispers, creating a fireball before us. Its heat is barely noticeable through the cold, and a strange clicking sound fills my ears. It takes a moment, but I realize that the sound I’m hearing comes from Nathaniel’s teeth as they chatter. “Elva,” he says more insistently, “darling, it’s freezing in here.”
I shift in my seat, my eyes widening as I take in his blue lips. “Dammit,” I choke out, cutting off all my magic.
I am the worst wife in the world.
Instantly, the heat returns to the room as I press my hands to his cheek. “Oh gods, I’m so sorry, my love.”
He blinks a few times as color returns to his cheeks. “Don’t worry about me,” he says, forcing a small smile before pulling me in for a hug. He turns in his seat, his arm still over my shoulder, as he looks around the room. Nathan’s face hardens as he studies the Daemon. “What do you mean, her father is not exactly dead? I was in that wretched palace and didn’t see a trace of him.”
Jeremiah clears his throat from his perch against the back wall. “The resistance has sources inside the palace. We have it on good authority that the King is... unwell. We believe he is being held in the Southern Tower, as the Queen is often seen going in there, but only her most trusted servants are allowed in or out.”
“You mean... he really could be alive?” Hope tinges my every word as I stare at the resistance members sitting around us. They nod, but their faces are grim. “Why is everyone looking at me like that?” I say. “This is good news! If my father’s alive, it will make getting rid of my mother even easier.”
The daemon shakes his head. “If he’s been under this... whatever it is, for decades, chances are his mind is addled. He might not even be the Fae you knew anymore.”
“You don’t know him like I do,” I say, refusing to believe him. “Father loves me. He will help us!” I turn to Nathan, grinning. “You can meet him.” Excitement fills my words, and I squeeze my husband’s hand. “He will love you so much.”
He smiles at me, but there is a tinge of sadness in his eyes as he reaches up to brush my hair away from my face. “I’d love nothing more, darling,” he murmurs.
Pure, unadulterated joy is running through me. “So, what’s the plan?” I ask.
* * *
