Thane placed the back of his hand against Glencora’s cheek. She was cold to the touch, though clearly breathing. Her eyes open wide, she stared up at him, unseeing. Lorcan had been right. Reyna was a great beauty, but Glencora had the composed, refined air of the nobility, even in her current state. Her smooth silver hair spread across the white pillow like long strands of glistening silk. She had an upturned, button nose, rosy cheeks, and plump lips.
“Can she hear me?” he asked, twisting to face Reyna who stood quietly in the center of Glencora’s bedchambers. Blue light glowed from sconces on the stone walls, highlighting the neat and orderly state of the room. There were no extra touches, no added refinement. There was a coldness to these chambers that reflected the landscape outside.
“She is asleep,” Reyna said quietly. “It is difficult to tell.”
“And she is blind?” he asked.
“Yes. For now.”
Thane sat heavily on the chair beside the bed. “I wish to marry Glencora. My mother will not be pleased, but—”
“She may be permanently blinded,” she said, voice growing hoarse. “She is weak. She can hardly eat. Try as she might, she has not been able to leave that bed.”
Thane glanced up to see Reyna giving him a very frank look. “Perhaps she will improve quickly.”
“I wish for that more than anyone,” Reyna said. “It is my fault she is in this state. However, we must be practical. She is unlikely to recover on her own accord. She needs a cure, one that has never been discovered. We may yet be able to find one. Eislyn is very determined to find the answer herself. But it may be months. Or years. The sun will turn around Tir Na Nog far sooner than Glencora’s eyesight will return.”
Thane let out a heavy sigh. Even if the strength returned to Glencora’s bones, he could not wed her if she remained blind. The laws of the Dagda forbade it. A king and queen must be whole and unblemished to be fit to rule. He sometimes questioned his god’s laws, even if only silently, within the safety of his own mind. If a ruler was good and strong, why should it matter if they were blemished?
“I aim to fulfill my promise to the Ice Court. I want nothing more than to end the fighting between our realms,” Thane finally said after several moments of silence. He glanced up at Reyna, who had moved to stand over her sister, staring down at her with a pained, pinched expression on her face. “But how am I to do that with one princess ill, one defiantly opposed to marrying me, and one no longer a princess at all?”
Reyna lifted her eyes to meet Thane’s. The anger had gone from them now, her mind too focused on her ailing sister. “You must understand my younger sister’s situation. All she knows of you are the stories she has heard.”
“Stories you yourself have told her, I suppose.”
The former princess pressed her lips together and nodded. “You have been our enemy, Prince Thane. For a very long time. And I saw you kill those I loved with my own eyes.”
Thane knew that better than anyone. He had fought on the battlefield against the ice fae during the bloodiest slaughter in their shared history: The Battle for the Shard—the small strip of land that separated their courts. He’d seen Reyna through the clashing of swords, wielding her own as if it weighed little more than a twig, her silver hair a tornado of power around her. The two had never come to blows, even if his father had ordered Thane to seek her out. It had been the first time he had ever refused to do his father’s bidding.
So many souls had died that day. Hundreds of air and ice fae had been slaughtered. As Thane had stepped through the blood-drenched snow, corpses piled up waist-high, he had made a vow to himself. The war with the Ice Court had to end. He and his army had not tried to take the Shard ever again, though it had taken him six years to convince his mother of a full alliance. In the end, she had agreed. His father never had.
Even now, the High King of the Air Court sat on his throne, angrily shouting about his son’s decision to extend a hand to their northern neighbors.
And Thane had then risked it all—the time, the effort, the pleading, the safety of his people—by stepping foot inside that inn, The Sapphire Axe. His stomach twisted at the thought, memories churning through his mind. The blood and guts splattered on the cheery wooden walls. The moans of pain before the survivors had succumbed to the flames.
Thane had only been trying to prove a point at first. He was their new ally, and he would not run away, weak and afraid. And then, he’d only been trying to protect himself. That cook had appeared from nowhere. Thane hadn’t meant to kill him.
With a sigh, he stood and turned his thoughts back onto the present. “We will never become allies if we cannot put the past behind us.”
Reyna gave him an odd look. “Eislyn is special. She is unlike you and me. What kind of assurances can you give to me? The tales say that you are wicked, cruel, and revelrous even off the battlefield. And I have seen you fight.”
Thane lifted a brow. “You speak like a father.”
“I speak like an older sister.”
He smiled. “I’m here so that our two realms can become one. No more killing. No more death. If that is my aim, why would I be cruel to my wife?”
“You haven’t answered the question,” Reyna said quietly.
The truth may be twisted but never false. With the inability to lie, fae were often clever with their words, and there were unspoken rules on what could and could not be asked. Yes and no questions were often refused. If one always responded to questions when the answer was a yes, then it became clear when the answer was a no. It was the only way to protect one’s deepest secrets from a harsh world where lies were as uncommon as magic now was.
“I will not be cruel to Eislyn. You have my word.”
Reyna sighed and closed her eyes. “I cannot lie. I do not want you to marry my sister, but my kingdom needs peace. I will speak with her and make her understand why this alliance is as important as it truly is. I’ll have her sit next to you at your welcome feast this evening. Be charming. And kind. We may be able to salvage this yet.”
Hope flared in Thane’s chest. Rising from the chair, he smiled. “Thank you, Reyna.”
She held up a finger to stop him. “But I must warn you, if you are ever cruel to my sister, ever, then I—”
“You’ll be forced to put me in my place? I would expect nothing less,” he said, still smiling.
“No. I will kill you.”
4
Reyna
Thane Selkirk was everything that Reyna did not like about courtly life. He wore an air of superiority like a cloak, and he peered down his very sharp nose at everyone beneath him. The low fae who served his food were nothing more than objects who would scurry around, doing whatever he pleased.
Unfortunately, Reyna had been seated directly beside him at the head table when Eislyn had not appeared for the feast. Reyna had spent the afternoon urging her sister toward the betrothal, as much as the conversation had pained her. Her younger sister was not suited to this task, and she deserved far better than this enemy of a prince. But Eislyn was their only option.
And she had made her position very clear.
“What have you studied?” Thane tried as he took a long gulp of wine from a chalice that matched his sleek golden hair.