“We can’t get to him through violence.” Cutting our way through the Asturian delegation will only bring the fury of the entire Seelie alliance down upon my head. The queensmoot is sacred. The ruins of Hammerdale are neutral ground. To go against that ancient pledge means spitting on everything I’ve spent years cultivating. “And Adaia won’t give him back to me, unless I beg. She wants me on my knees. She wants Mistmere. And I don’t dare give it to her.”
“There is… some leverage we might be able to wield against her. Adaia has both her daughters with her this year,” Thalia murmurs.
I wince. I met the eldest daughter last year. Andraste is the spitting image of her mother, and from the haughty arrogance she greeted me with, I daresay she’s inherited her mother’s mean streak and air of privilege.
“What’s the name of the youngest?”
“Iskvien,” Thalia replies. “I don’t know a lot about her. My resources say she’s not as favored as the eldest. Adaia hasn’t announced an heir yet, but Andraste is the frontrunner. There’s rumor that the youngest daughter’s magic is weak.”
Adaia will hate that.
Strength is power in this world, and she’s spent centuries building a stronghold out of her alliances and magic. To have birthed a daughter with barely any magic will be an embarrassment for her. No wonder I’ve never seen this Iskvien before.
She’s probably another little clone of her mother. Blonde. Cruel.
Unimportant.
Or… is she?
I prowl around the table, unable to sit. “Right now, Adaia has a hostage. We could even the playing field.”
Lysander leans forward, the front legs of his chair hitting the ground. “You want to kidnap a princess of Asturia?”
“Without bloodshed?” Even Eris’s eyebrows arch. “Here?”
“Mmm.” It’s dangerous. Reckless. It could cost me everything. But it could also neutralize Adaia before she can make a single demand of me. “I want eyes on her daughters. Don’t be seen. Don’t harm them. I just want to know where they are and who they talk to.”
“They could be innocent,” Thalia retorts.
“Adaia’s daughter?” Maybe I believed in innocence once upon a time, but years of strife and bloodshed have burned such notions from my heart. There’s no innocence left in this world.
And certainly not within the heart of the Asturian court.
“I’ll take the eldest,” Baylor says.
Lysander scowls. “Fine. I’ll track down the youngest daughter.”
“It’s one thing for Adaia to take Finn hostage in the ruins of Mistmere,” Thalia points out as if we’ve all lost our minds. “Quite another to kidnap a royal princess right in the heart of the queensmoot.”
“I think it’s perfect,” Lysander replies. “Everyone will be wearing masks. They’ll all be mingling and drinking. Nobody is even going to know if we take her.”
Thalia leans forward. “She arrived with Adaia. Even Prince Kyrian is going to arch a brow in surprise if she suddenly appears in our encampment, and he’s our ally.”
“Then someone ‘seduces’ her,” Lysander suggests. “Maybe she’s enjoying our hospitality? The only one who needs to know the truth is Adaia.”
“Are you volunteering?” Thalia asks.
“As handsome as I am,” he retorts, “everyone knows my preferences lie elsewhere. Someone… else….” He scans the room, his gaze drifting between me and Baylor.
Baylor gruffly folds his arms over his chest and glares at his brother. “Have you been drinking already?”
“That’s a no. Nobody would believe it.” Lysander steadies his focus upon me.
“I don’t do seduction.” Somehow the words come out a little roughly. “Particularly not with the enemy’s daughter.” I snap my fingers at Thalia. “Eyes on her only. For now. But she might be a bargaining chip we can use. What else do we have?”
“Well, there’s the matter of the Ravenal alliance.”
The words near take my feet out from under me. This was a private matter discussed between the two of us—and I certainly never gave her permission to reveal it to the others.
“Ravenal alliance?” Eris asks.
“The queen of Ravenal has a granddaughter,” Thalia explains to the others. “Her name is Lucere and—”
“And this was supposed to be a consideration only,” I snap. “What in the name of Maia have you done?”
“Princess Lucere is of marriageable age,” Thalia continues to the others, as if I haven’t spoken. “She is also interested in meeting our prince at the queensmoot.” She gives me a stern look. “You said you would consider the alliance. Lucere only wants to meet you to see if you would suit.”
“Marriage is the last thing on my mind right now,” I growl out. “Finn must be our first priority—”
“Finn is our first priority,” Thalia snaps. “But if he’s the only hand of cards we’re playing right now, then Adaia will have us backed into a corner quicker than you can say, ‘Yes, Adaia. No, Adaia. How high would you like me to jump, Adaia?’ Let’s open negotiations with Adaia and see what she wants in exchange for him, which means we must relay this through the Seelie Alliance. Everything we do to get him back must be played out in the open, or she’ll kill him and have perfect justification to do so.”
Her voice softens. “Prince Kyrian is our only ally. The other queens think you’re an upstart prince who stole his throne. You need allies. More allies. You need someone to back you when Adaia comes for your throat. You need someone who might vote your way if Adaia pushes the issue. With Queen Maren of Aska in bed with Adaia, that only leaves Lucidia of Ravenal. The old bitch is cunning. She knows she’s no powerhouse, but she also knows we need her. With Evernight to the north of Asturia, and Ravenal to the south, Adaia will barely dare to breathe. It’s our only hope. Meet with Lucere. Marriage to her could be the means with which we get Finn back without bloodshed.”
“I know, but….”
She’s out there. The woman I’m meant to marry.
Maia wouldn’t have granted me a glimpse of her face all those years ago, if she meant me to be bound to another.
Something softens in Thalia’s eyes. She alone knows the truth of what I saw. “It’s been five hundred years since you were granted that vision, Thi. If she was out there—”
“If she’s out there,” I grind out, “then I can’t bind myself to another. I can’t.” Not even for my country.
Not even for Finn?
My breath catches. I know the answer to that. He’s my brother-at-arms. My ally. My friend. Five hundred years ago he saved my life on the battlefield and I can never repay that.
“I will… meet with Lucere.” Even saying those words feels like dying a little on the inside.
For five hundred years I’ve been holding onto a dream, clinging to it at times with the desperate need of a man hanging from the edge of a cliff by his fingertips.
I can’t give up.
The woman I saw has to be out there somewhere.
But if this is the cost of Finn’s freedom….