She flashes me a brief smirk. “I do believe I understand your difficulty now.”
We walk around the room, and she gestures to various men, naming them, giving their ranks, and sharing a bit of information about each. Now I can begin to match faces to the names and other details that Kenric has made me memorize about each of them. Finally, we reach a corner where three young men are harassing a serving girl and drinking heavily.
I see the queen stiffen slightly. “Allow me to introduce you to my sons.”
The serving girl curtseys and takes the opportunity to dash away. She reaches out and grabs the oldest boy by the arm, pinching him subtly but quite hard.
“This is my eldest son, Jannick. Jannick should have been part of that trade delegation.” The queen releases him and grabs the next boy, with another subtle pinch. “This is my middle son, Mattias. Mattias refused to take his elder brother’s place.”
The queen releases this boy and reaches for the third, who deftly side-steps her, before bowing to me. “I am the youngest and the troublemaker, Bastian.”
The three boys look at Queen Grethe, clearly curious. “This is the lovely princess Lord Kenric brought back. They are to wed in a month.”
Her heavy emphasis on “Lord” isn’t lost on the boys.
Bastian eyes his mother and shrugs, “You must be Princess Víl? of the Fey.
We have heard the strangest tales about you.”
I smile at him. “You’ll have to tell me what they are so I can tell you if they are true or not.”
Bastian glances at the hallway where the girl disappeared.”Saloma was one of our childhood playmates. Whenever some of these lordlings get too forward with her, we pretend to harass her until they back off, and she can run away. We can’t be seen protecting a commoner. Pick on one, yes. Protect her, no. How does that work where you’re from?”
I shrug. “Where I’m from, rank is earned. Harassing a serving girl in Ellisar’s palace might get you more than a little trouble afterwards, and often from the girl herself.”
Bastian considers this for a moment and shrugs.”I am a prince. I can’t complain about our system. Tell me, is it true that you’re in trouble with your king for dueling? With swords?”
I nod.”That much is true.”
Mattias grins at me.”Is it true that all Fey get their magic by dancing naked under the full moon?”
I laugh.”No one ever got magic that way. Those who have it are born with it. For the rest, we stick with swords.”
Snorting, Jannick asks if any of my ladies might be available. Smirking, I suggest that if he wishes to have that question answered, he should ask them himself, knowing full well that he’s likely to end up stuffed into the garderobe, the wardrobe, or some other embarrassing place by those three.
Jannick starts to move toward me, but Mattias pushes him back.
I nod at Mattias. “I’ve already admitted to my history of dueling.”
Bastian shakes his head. “Jannick thinks that since he’s the heir, he can have whatever he wants. Mostly, he’s right, but somehow with you, I think that might not be the case.”
Clever boy. Ellisar is going to burn this place to the ground. If it's meant to kick off because Jannick tries to put his hands on me, then so be it. I’m not looking forward to carving my way out of this palace after dueling with a prince, but I’m not terribly afraid of it either.
I chuckle. “Any one of those three is likely to shove him into the garderobe and slam the lid down. They’re here to watch over me. They are supposed to make sure that I stay out of trouble. If they get any inkling that he’s trying to cause me trouble, it won’t go well for him. In his current state, I’m unsure whether they’d treat him too gently as prince and heir. I’d hate for him to wake up, tied naked to the back of a horse that’s been let loose in the city or drawn on with indelible ink or any of the other things that those three have done to drunken troublemakers in the past.”
Sighing and nodding, Mattias smiles at me. “He’s not like this when he’s sober. I’d love to see him get a little comeuppance, but maybe not too much. Maybe then Father would make him stay away from the wine.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Spotting Kenric, I wave him over and introduce him to the princes. Jannick wanders off, apparently looking for more wine. We chat with Mattias and Bastian for a bit before they start introducing us to their friends, whom they jokingly call “the spares.”It seems there’s a large group of younger sons who all seem to be close friends.
They’re more than willing to dish out gossip about their families. More than a few of them aren’t well treated at home, and they’re happy to share dirt, not just gossip. Duchess Ina was right. They’re lovely and helpful. I’ve learned more about the inner workings of this court in the last thirty minutes than Kenric, who grew up around here and spent weeks at a time here. I now know which dukes and lords are rivals, which ones tolerate each other, which ones cooperate, and which ones despise each other so much they wouldn’t even spit.
I’ve also observed some of the lords and their constantly shifting alliances as they compete for higher ranks. There is no absolute truth or loyalty in this place. As rough as the Fey court can be, there’s a certain honesty in fighting for dominance through physical strength and magic. We acknowledge what we’re doing, and we don’t pretend otherwise. These humans try to pretend they’re not jockeying for dominance. It must be hard to be born into a particular path and not be allowed to leave it because of your parents' and their ancestors' background.
That seems endless and frustrating. It keeps superior males like Kenric subservient to inferior males, such as those from the trade delegation. He had to prove to them repeatedly that he was correct. Even then, they still messed up the trade deal. That whole situation is an untenable nightmare, things they have to pay for, but no delivery is even guaranteed. Things they have to buy, but no fixed prices. I pointed this out to Kenric. I know Kenric told those fools. Ellisar has them over a barrel. They’re entirely dependent on his good graces.
I don’t believe Ellisar has any good graces. I definitely haven’t experienced them. I would swear he knew he planned to burn this place down before that trade agreement was signed. He could have phrased the clause about the second marriage differently so that it only applied if we came here. If Kenric gets hurt over this, I don’t know what I’ll do. Kenric stops before a man he knows and snaps me out of my thoughts.
Kenric grins at him. “Lord Eldert Krull, I would like to present my Lady wife, Princess Víl? of the Fey.”
He’s a much older man, but he appears kind. I sniff, and suddenly I realize why he’s here. He believes this might be the last time he’s healthy enough to make the trip to see Kenric. I feel a pang of sadness. If I had crossed his path a few months ago, I might have been able to do something about the darkness that spreads through his organs. Now, his organs are more darkness than anything else. Any attempt by me to heal him would almost certainly be deadly. Other than Kenric’s time and attention, there is only one kindness left I can offer him.
We call it Final Mercy. It is a small bottle of liquid that causes the person who drinks it to sleep and never wake again. It seems to be painless, and its reserved for the most severe cases where there is no healing, no getting better, no learning to manage, only screaming. The two of them are having a friendly chat.
Lord Eldert and Kenric seem to be some of the few genuine friends here. “When my father died, Lord Eldert fostered me until I was old enough to assume the estate on my own.”
I recall my happiest memory and let it bring a smile to my face. “I’m so pleased to meet you, Lord Eldert. I’ve heard so much about you from Kenric. Now, tell me what he was like when he was younger.”
Lord Eldert laughs and begins sharing stories of Kenric’s boyhood, telling me about Kenric doing the silly things boys do, like frogs in the spring house or the beds, falling out of trees, or trying to ride his father’s destrier. It sounds wonderful and charming.
I whisper to Kenric in Fey, “Spend some time with him. He may not be here in midwinter.”
Kenric gives me a strange look, and I subtly tap my nose. He nods and leads the older man to some chairs, where they sit talking. I stand watching Kenric and Lord Eldert, and Queen Grethe steps back to stand beside me. “Lord Eldert looks thinner each time I see him. I like him quite a bit, and it saddens me to see him like this.”
I glance at her out of the corner of my eye, still watching Kenric and Eldert. “I suspect he’s come to say his goodbyes, Your Royal Highness. My mother is one of our healers. I recognize this wasting sickness. I don’t know if even she could fix this,” I say.
Queen Grethe nods. “Speaking of things that can or can’t be healed, what do you think of my sons?”
I shrug and glance at her again. “Truth as I see it or what you’d like me to say, Your Royal Highness?”
A short, bitter laugh escapes from Queen Grethe’s lips. “By all the Gods! Truth. It’s a rare enough commodity here.”
I incline my head. “My assessment, as things stand now, based on what little I’ve seen of them, is straightforward. Jannick should stop drinking, as it might improve his attitude. Put him to work, keep him too busy to drink. Mattias would benefit from military training and discipline. Bastian might be the most capable. Start training him in statecraft. They are all young and may change as they grow older, and life takes its toll, but this is what I see in this moment, with limited knowledge of them.”
Queen Grethe nods slowly. “Sometimes outsiders have the clearest view.”
I nod in agreement. “We stand outside the storm, watching through a window as it rages inside its teapot. But sometimes, that storm hides things from us, crucial things, because the window isn’t large enough, and our view is limited.”
Queen Grethe looks around, and no one is near. “Are you planning to bed Oskar?”
I shake my head and smile at her. “One stubborn male to complicate my life is more than enough, Your Royal Highness. I truly do not want a second one, and most especially do not want yours. I just want to fulfill the terms of this contract so we can leave this place as quickly as possible. I don’t think the hidden harms of that scheme are clear, which is why it continues.”
Queen Grethe frowns at me. “Hidden harms? Tell me what you mean by that.”
Sighing, I gesture toward Lady Isiline and Lord Geil. Their postures show that they despise each other. The smell from them is full of hurt, betrayal, rage, sadness, bitterness, resentment, and much more. I have only met them briefly, and I pity them.
- What do you think happens next? Who’s walking away—and who’s not?
- If you could write the next line, what would it be?