“Some.” He held out an orange slice to me. “Want some?”
“No, thanks.” I shook my head. “How much is ‘some’?”
“I meant like a slice or two, but you can have the rest if you really want.” He extended the orange to me, but I politely waved him off.
“No, I meant tell me what you know about the Vittra,” I said.
“That’s too vague.” Tove took another bite, then grimaced and tossed the remainder of it into the fireplace. He rubbed his hands on his pants, drying the juice from them, and looked about the room.
He seemed distracted today, and I wondered if the palace was too much for him. Too many people with too many thoughts trapped in one space. He normally only visited for a few hours at a time.
“Do you know why the Vittra and the Trylle are fighting?” I asked.
“No.” He shook his head. “I think it’s about a girl, though.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Isn’t it always?” He sighed and got up. He went over to the mantel and pushed around the few ivory and wood figurines that rested on it. Sometimes he used his fingers, sometimes he used his mind to move them. “I heard once that Helen of Troy was Trylle.”
“I thought Helen of Troy was a myth,” I said.
“And so are trolls.” He picked up a figurine depicting an ivory swan intertwined with wooden ivy, and he touched it delicately, as if afraid of damaging the intricate design. “Who’s to say what’s real or not?”
“Then, what? Troy and Vittra are the same thing? Or what are you saying here?”
“I don’t know.” Tove shrugged and put the figurine back on the mantel. “I don’t put much stock in Greek mythology.”
“Great.” I leaned on the couch. “What do you know?”
“I know that their King is your father.” He paced the room, looking around at everything while looking at nothing. “And he’s ruthless, so he won’t stop until he gets you.”
“You knew he was my father?” I asked, gaping at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It wasn’t my place.” He looked out the window at the sleet. He went right up to it and pressed his palm to the glass, so it left a steamy print from the warmth of his skin.
“You should’ve told me,” I insisted.
“They won’t kill him,” Tove said absently. He leaned forward, breathing on the glass and fogging it up.
“Who?” I asked.
“Loki. The Markis.” He traced a design in the fog, then rubbed it away with his elbow.
“Elora says she’s going to try to—”
“No, they can’t kill him,” Tove assured me and turned to face me. “Your mother is the only one powerful enough to hold him, aside from me and you.”
“Wait, wait.” I held up my hand. “What do you mean, nobody’s strong enough to hold him? I saw the guards contain him in the hall when he was captured. Duncan even helped bring him down.”
“No, Vittra work differently from us.” Tove shook his head and sat down on the opposite end of the couch. “Our abilities lie in here.” He tapped the side of his head. “We can move objects with our minds or control the wind.”
“Loki can knock people out with his mind, and the Vittra Queen can heal them,” I said.
“The Vittra Queen has Trylle blood in her, back a generation or two in order for her to be Queen. Loki has our blood, actually. His father used to be Trylle.”
“Now he’s Vittra?” I asked, remembering what Elora had said about knowing Loki’s father.
“He was for a while. Now he’s dead,” Tove said matter-of-factly.
“What? Why?” I asked.
“Treason.” Tove leaned forward, and using his mind, he lifted a vase up off a nearby table. I wanted to snap at him and tell him to pay attention, but I knew that was actually what he was trying to do.
“We killed him?” I asked.
“No. I believe he tried to defect back to F?rening.” He bit his lip, concentrating as the vase floated in the air. “The Vittra killed him.”
“Oh, my gosh.” I leaned back on the couch. “Why would Loki support the Vittra still?”
“I don’t know Loki, nor did I know his father.” The vase floated down, landing gently on the table. “I can’t tell you their reasoning for anything.”
“How do you know this stuff?” I asked.
“You would know it too, if it weren’t for the state of things.” Tove exhaled deeply, seeming calmer after moving the vase. “It’s part of the training you’d be undergoing now, learning our history. But because of the attacks, it’s more important that you be prepared for battle.”
“How do Vittra powers differ?” I asked, returning to the topic.
“Strength.” He flexed his arm to demonstrate. “Physically, they’re unmatched. Even their minds are more impenetrable, which makes it harder for people like you and Elora to control them. It even makes it more difficult for me to move them. And like us, the more powerful the Vittra, the higher the ranking, so a Markis like Loki is awfully strong.”