Pointing to the dark scribbles that denoted the water mage fortress, Mihai explained how Filip would become a leader in the Lore forces, training both water mages and those without magic to fight like mountain elves.
“They believe we’re mages,” Costel whispered, smiling and coming out of the shadows.
Sorina touched Filip’s ring. “They do,” she whispered. “And we’ll keep it that way, Son. They don’t need to know it is simply our inborn speed and agility that makes us the finest warriors.”
Finally, the reality of what Filip had to do for his people broke through the ice of shock. A weight pressed into his chest, and his feet felt nailed to the floor.
He met his parents’ eyes. “I will marry the spoiled Princess Aurora and leave my beautiful homeland. But first, I will enjoy tonight like it is my last night alive.”
A shout rose in the corridor, then the earl, Ivan’s father, burst through the doors. “I demand justice!”
Filip’s uncle had spittle on his dark beard, and his face was as red as Ivan’s had been. “He shamed Ivan!”
Mihai and Sorina stared at Filip, mouths open.
Filip held out his hands. “I knocked him out near the sparring rings. He is fine. Ask Costel.” Of course, his friend hadn’t been there, but Costel always backed up Filip.
“I don’t trust your lap dog!” The earl sneered at Costel, then marched up to Mihai. “Brother, Filip must be whipped. Privately, yes, but it must be done. We cannot allow him to go around beating people on a whim!”
Mihai closed his eyes briefly, then glared at his brother. “I would bet all that Ivan was acting less than civilized.” Then Mihai looked to Filip. “Did he raise a hand to you first?”
“Yes.”
“Ten lashes,” the earl said, his voice like the barbed end of a whip. “I know well how you envy him. You must keep your power in check, boy.”
Sorina gasped. “Do not call him boy.”
Filip snorted. “What do I envy exactly, dear Uncle? The way your son beats innocent women and animals, or the way he can’t hold his drink?”
The earl howled and flew at Filip, but Costel bumped his way between them, and the earl took Costel down with a flurry of sloppy punches. Filip and Mihai grabbed the back of the earl’s doublet and yanked him away from Costel even as the man shrieked obscenities.
“You will stand down, brother,” Mihai ordered, releasing him as Filip did.
The earl’s chest heaved as he fought to control his rage. Finally, he ran a hand through his damp hair and bowed shallowly.
“Accept my judgment on this, Earl,” Mihai said.
The earl turned his head to glance at Filip. The look he gave him was pure hatred. “Fine,” he said straightening. “I accept.” He tugged his doublet back into place and started for the door. “But know, Prince Filip, that you have made yourself an enemy in your homeland. I will not forgive this.”
Sorina pointed a finger. “Nor will you act on your anger. Swear it.”
The earl huffed and heaved another breath. Was he going to lunge at Filip again?
“Swear it.” Sorina’s voice was an axe on a chopping block.
“I swear it.” With a feeble excuse for a bow, the earl strode out of the throne room.
Mihai sighed. “Filip, Ivan is a monster, but did you truly have to shame him in front of the crowds?”
“It was him or an innocent subject beaten. He needed a reminder of who rules here.”
Sorina took Filip’s hand. “Such acts show a confidence one needs to rule.”
Mihai turned his attention back to the map of Lore. “It’s acts like these that show you need a steadying influence in your life.”
“You think a princess of Lore will help me rule someday? The lowlanders know nothing of suffering, of sacrifice.”
“They suffered at the hand of the Wylfen too,” Sorina said.
“Mother. Not like us.”
“No, not as we did. But still, she will know the horrors of war.”
“How? Because she had to skip dinner once at Loreton Palace?”
“She was raised at the fae court. They lost many to the invaders. She will have lost someone.”
Filip shoved his tangled black hair out of his face and studied the map. “Perhaps.” He turned to face the Lore messenger, who was acting like he hadn’t heard or seen a thing. “Stop pretending you’re deaf, man. What is your Princess Aurora like? What is my fate with this marriage?”
The messenger shuffled his feet. “I…I haven’t met the princess.”
“But surely you’ve heard talk.”
“No, your majesty. Nothing at all. We at the palace didn’t know of her existence until now. The head cook told me all the others there the day the Matchweaver cursed her were sent away to the far reaches of the kingdom so the secret would be kept.”
“It was a frightful day.” Sorina fidgeted with the gold loop in her ear. “Poor little babe.”
Mihai kissed her temple.
“If she’s like our queen,” the messenger said, “she’ll be practical and even tempered.”
“See?” Mihai said. “That will do nicely for you. Perhaps she’ll calm that hot head of yours.”
A grin tugged at Filip’s lips, and the spark of a challenge warmed his blood. “We’ll see if she can tame me, then. I doubt it.” If marriage was non-negotiable, he might as well have a good time with the courting.
“Son…” Sorina narrowed her eyes. “You will behave.”
Filip smiled and bowed. “As always.”
Chapter 5
The next morning, the riding party of Aury, her parents, and the royal guard left the enchanted forest of Illumahrah with little difficulty. But they clomped onward and into the countryside at a snail’s pace, stopping for water and rest every few hours and sleeping far too long when they found inns each night.
According to the map Hilda had shown Aury, they weren’t far from the meadows that led to the Silver River. Lifting herself in her stirrups, she craned her neck, trying to see past the crowns, banners—the endless parade of ridiculousness. Absolutely boiling with the need to get to the Order’s castle, Darkfleot, and find out just what it meant to be a water mage, she nudged the lovely, golden mare the horrible king and queen had given her. She wouldn’t be swayed, all for a gift, into forgetting years upon years of torment at the fae court while they pretended she didn’t exist. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the fine horse. The mare took off at a nice canter, and Aury urged her to veer around all the guards and her parents.
Gods above, it was madness to think that King Athellore and Queen Gwinnith were her parents!
Ignoring their shouts of caution, Aury leaned close to the mare’s ear, its pale mane tickling her face. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?” The mare took off down the king’s road, stirring up the snowy mud. “You don’t actually like the name Flower, do you?” Aury winced, and the horse nickered, obviously agreeing that it was sadly bereft of any honor. “How about Goldheart?”
The mare galloped faster, which Aury took as a yes.