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I leaned forward, voice low. “Tell me, when you fought for change in your courts, how swiftly did it come?”
Valen’s eyes burned to the color of scorched coals. He said nothing when he faced the sea, jaw so tight I could make out every tendon, every pulsing muscle.
“You keep seeking out my shortcomings as king to make me out as a cruel bastard, undeserving of your daughter. I will never disagree that I am undeserving, nor will I disagree that I am cruel. I am not a good man, Earth Bender. But I am no threat to her.”
“You are the greatest threat to her, Erik.”
It was the first time he’d addressed me by my given name. I turned my focus onto curling white waves against the hull. “If you think I consider anything above her, my kingdom included, you are wrong. I care for nothing but getting her back.”
“That is why you are a threat,” Valen said, less venom in his tone than before. “You have her heart, and that is a priceless treasure I vowed to protect from her first breaths. Now, I am forced to trust that the same man who stole my girl from me will care for her in a way that is worthy of her.”
Perhaps, I did not understand the love of a father to his child, but I had enough sense to recognize the violence in Valen Ferus’s eyes to speak with care. “I will never give you a reason not to trust me with her heart.”
“If that is true”—the earth bender pierced me with a dark glare—“then hear me clearly, Ever King: break it, no matter what the reason, and I will not hesitate as I did at the fort to scatter your bones.”
“I break her heart, then I will offer you my blade.”
Valen’s cheek twitched. “So long as we understand each other.”
Sewell emerged from the hatch. He’d coated his body in black, top to boots, and it looked as though one of the earth fae had gotten to his thick hair—a braid ridged down the center of his skull.
He paused, grinning at Valen. “Sire to sire, Wolf. Little eel lights in his heart with our fox. I would place me Thunderfish in his hands if tides were turned.”
Valen likely did not grasp what Sewell was proclaiming, yet there was a horrid thickening in the back of my throat. A swell of something wretched like whimpering affection for the man who’d been at my side for the whole of my memories.
“You mean that?” Valen said, a smirk on his battle-painted face. “If it were your daughter, you would be at ease after what he did?”
“You knew what he was saying?” I asked before I could think better of interrupting.
Valen eyed me for a breath. “I’ve had many conversations withSewell since setting sail. I’ll ask again—if he took your girl, you’d be at ease? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Aye. If I saw what be seen, I’d rest easy.” Sewell barked a laugh. “Not telling that a little eel would not eat a bit of me knuckles on his tongue.”
Valen smiled, a sincere smile that reminded me of his daughter too fiercely. Sewell laughed again, clapped Valen on the shoulder, and gave me a wink before they left my side—together.
“Believe it or not, Valen stands by you because he already trusts you with her heart, Erik,” Stieg whispered.
“He will always despise me, Warrior,” I said. “And I cannot even blame him.”
“What you see as hatred is a father terrified he will not see his girl again. Get her back, let him hear her tale from her mouth, and you will have the fiercest ally in the Night Folk king.”
“I have survived long enough without anyone to call a father. I do not need the support of one now. If we can come to an understanding that he and I both love her, that is enough.”
“You will get more,” Stieg said with a knowing grin. “I’ve known Valen Ferus since the days before he was a king. Never have I met a man who fights for his family so fiercely. Like it or not, boy, you are now part of his house.”
Like the others, Stieg abandoned my side.
I doubted Valen would care for me, but I trusted he would fight to the brutal end until we found Livia, and that was all I truly wanted.
“The House of Blades!” Scar called from the crow’s nest.
Mists firm enough to slice into pieces, rolled over the deck of the ship like ghostly fingers trying to take hold of our ankles. When the bow carved through, the light of a warm dawn brightened the distant, fiery peaks of the House of Blades.
My fingernails dug into the wood of the rail.
“Divide the spear crews,” I shouted, limping up the stairs toward the helm. “At the ready with the cinder stones.”
An echo of my command filtered across the deck. Men split into their pairs and manned their spear. The crew moved around their posts like a brutal waltz, every man at the ready near the sails, the rigging, the ember spears. Every blade at the ready to draw blood.
