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“No, My Lady,” said Eldirard. “Queens have filled our histories since ice and fire first collided in the Ginnungagap void.”
They spoke of old lore regarding the creations of the realms of folk. Elven culture was strange, yet familiar.
“Then why is your granddaughter not the heir?” Mira was the one to ask.
“She is not my blood,” Eldirard said. He placed a loving hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Skadinia was orphaned as a wee girl. I found her rummaging the market streets, took to her spirit, and brought her to the palace where she has lived as a royal ever since.” The old man dropped his chin. “More than Natthaven, Arion seeks my granddaughter.”
“You don’t inherit granddaughters,” I said.
“Skadinia belongs to Natthaven. She will belong to Arion.”
“That’s barbaric,” Livia insisted. “Skadi, it’s true?”
The woman lifted her eyes, blue pools of . . . cold. “The king of the light clan arranged betrothal agreements the firstturn I was brought to the palace. I’ve grown knowing one day my life would be bound to the Ljosalfar.”
“As I said, he needs her clearheaded. If Skadinia has no heart, she would not care to agree to the vows he wishes to make—her, as his wife,” the old man explained. “Another binding agreement I made with his father. The boy inherits my clan, but he does not simply get Skadinia as his wife unless she agrees.”
“He cares that much about making her his wife?” I shook my head, there was more to it.
“Yes.” The old man sneered. “He wants to control her affinity. With enough strength, Skadinia can devour lands, steal them away. Arion wishes to conquer, expand his kingdom, and he cannot do it without her.”
The woman was a damn weapon.
I narrowed my eyes. “How can you be so certain he won’t return for her?”
“I hope his father will hold him to account, at least for a time. But there is only one guarantee that my granddaughter’s affinity will never belong to Arion.”
“Explain,” I snapped.
There was little trust to be had between these elven and my house. Livia, her goodness, wanted a chance for these folk. If it were up to me, they would be holed away beneath the palace and forgotten.
Heartless by choice or not, I was not a forgiving man. The woman had nearly killed Sander, and all I could think was if the prince had died, it would’ve shattered Livia’s heart.
Eldirard cleared his throat, one hand still protectively on Skadi’s shoulder. “As I said, our abilities are loyal to our kin. To take vows would make her his kin, and her affinity would never fight against him. In fact, it might even bow to his demands.”
That drew my attention. “Yet you said there was a way to prevent this.”
The elven woman let out a sigh and turned away.
Her grandfather did not share her despondency and nodded. “If she takes on different kin before he has the chance.” The old elven crossed one leg over his knee, fingers drumming along the handles of his chair. “Not a simple solution, since the betrothal bond was already written. It would need to be a marital vow of equal title. A royal vow.”
“I don’t care for how you’re looking at me, old man.”
“I am looking at the king. A royal,” Eldirard said.
Livia sat straighter, dropped one hand to my leg, squeezing possessively. “The Ever King has aqueen.”
Gods, the dark, silky threat in her voice. Never would I tire of being the desire of Livia Ferus. To know, after so many turns of being unwanted, she would go to bleeding war to keep me? I leaned over and pressed my mouth to the side of her neck. A promise, a threat, a need, that spoke of how I would devour her later.
I rose from my throne and approached the two elven. “I have no answer for your dilemma. But, despite the woman nearly killing one of our own, she also protected my queen, so here is what I can offer her—refuge until that frosty heart starts beating again. Refuge from this bastard of a prince. You, King, of course, will also sign a treaty of peace that your clan will never rise against the Ever.”
“Refuge?” Eldirard looked uneasy. “You mean for her to remain here?”
“If you mean what you say, I doubt this prince will accept defeat for long. We can offer refuge. I don’t trust her, so she’ll be ordered to wear the herbs and dull her affinity until we find we do trust her.Ifwe find we trust her.”
The king stood, half a head shorter than me, but formidable all the same. “She is a lady of Natthaven, a princess, and you would have me leave her here like a caged hound?”
“No one said anything about cages, but if you wish to, I certainly will.” I curled my lip. “Let us not forget what I said—she nearly killed one of our own. If it were up to me, I’d cage her. Good thing for you, my queen is more forgiving.”
